♥ November Event Log

[hugtopiamods]

November (Malom) Event Log
The chaos of Lasohm's invasion is still fresh in the mind, but it's over. The ugly scar of the hole in Havenwell's wall is a jarring reminder that this world is dying and nothing goes quietly into that dark night. The phantom is gone as Malom overtakes Lasohm, the weather turning colder and chillier with each passing day. Still, the city of Havenwell has all of you offworlders to thank for its survival, and the fearful citizens make sure you know just how much they appreciate you by stopping you on the street to say their thanks. Your new home still needs your help to recover from their ordeal though, so will you lend them your strength once more?

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❥ PROMPT I: Rebuilding Effort

The magic barrier over the hole that unknown monster punched through Havenwell's wall is repaired, stopping the onslaught and encouraging any other nightmares that lurk outside to move on and away, but the hole itself remains. Throughout the month of Malom, robot natives are working tirelessly to gather bricks and stone and patch the breach, but they could use some help. Work together with other offworlders and natives alike to repair the wall and be rewarded with a handsome bump to the Dora in your bank account. They need all sorts of help, from clearing away the dead bodies of the spider-like creatures for cremation, to retrieving and hauling stone for the wall, to actually slotting the heavy blocks into place to cement them back together.

Outside the barrier, now clearly visible through the hole, a storm rages on, obscuring the view of the world beyond it. Gray and black clouds whip against the invisible barrier, and occasional debris slams into it, causing the impact site to light up with silver, pink, blue, or white hues before it fades away again. It seems even without monsters, the world outside is as inhospitable as was rumored.

Work together or take a break along the base of the wall and get to know your fellow offworlders a little better. It's going to take a while before this mess is cleaned up.

❥ PROMPT II: Air Sickness

Those who worked at or were near the breach in the wall for any extended period of time will notice that, over time, it gets harder to breathe. Then they begin to feel feverish, even if they don't have flesh bodies or are immune to disease. Their bodies ache and groan and it gets harder to move about without help. Once the natives notice, they set up a recovery area away from where the breach occurred: a giant tent with cots and pillows, thick rugs and blankets to keep the chill away. Unfortunately, they don't have medicines available to treat flesh bodied people, so they're at a loss of what to do otherwise. The priests gather anyone who is ill and brings them here...which is when a curious thing occurs.

While conventional medicines and healing spells seem to have no effect on the illness, staying in contact with another person alleviates the symptoms. After a period of contact with another person or persons, the fever breaks and it's like you were never sick at all.

Return to the wall, however, and you'll notice your symptoms coming back with a vengeance after a few days. It seems that making regular trips between the wall and this recovery tent is the only way to keep working. At least it's an easy fix so long as you're not a germaphobe.

❥ PROMPT III: A Tasty(?) Reward

Toward the end of the month as the hole in the wall is completely repaired and the risk of illness declines, a message is sent to all the offworlders' communication devices. Those who choose to open it will find a very official looking message from The Havenwell Council that reads:

Greetings, Saviours of Havenwell!
We of the Havenwell Council greet you and wish to express our eternal gratitude for your valiant efforts to keep our wonderful home safe. Without you, we would not have survived this terrible onslaught. As such, we wish to express our gratitude in a more concrete form. Your emissary, Magolor, has been in contact with this venerable Council and has brought to our attention that your greatest concern is for the food available. We apologize that due to our inability to taste we have been unable to supply you with satisfactory meals.

To that end, we invite you to work with our scientists to improve upon the taste of currently available offerings from our replicators. Please come to the Northern Research Tower (map included) at any time this month to sample what our replicators can produce and give us feedback on their flavour and textures. We ask that you be as specific as possible in your criticisms so we may improve upon your general quality of life. Please feel free to bring as many friends as you wish.

May the Gods Protect You,
Havenwell Council, Community Liaisons

Those who take the invitation will arrive at the Northern Research Tower and be taken directly to the 40th floor, where a large banquet hall has been laid out. Five rectangular tables, over 5 meters long each, stretch down the room, creating aisles for people to walk down. At the far end are several high round tables, covered in white cloth, and high round stools for those who wish them. The tables are overflowing with food, much like the welcome dinner, but at each table and scattered throughout the room are scientist robots with arm bands that read "Experiment 73" in that peculiar Aellyn script you saw during your time at the Archives. They invite you to taste the foods - both raw and cooked - and to give your very honest opinions.

Enjoy the food, help them improve the flavours, and walk the room to talk with the others who have come. Those who participate will receive a small synthetic fruit basket to take home with them on their first visit. Feel free to come back as often as you like, however! Each time, they'll be changing and adjusting the food available so your first and last visit may be very different. Perhaps that strawberry actually even tastes sweet, finally.

❥ PROMPT IV: A Virtual Spa

The VR cafes are uncharacteristically quiet while the rebuilding effort goes on, but there are still those who come to plug in to unwind after a day of intensive labor. And what better way to unwind than with a hot bath, right? Since the people of Havenwell can't actually submerge themselves in water, they're doing the next best thing: going to a virtual hot spring. There are several types to choose from and despite being digital, their calming and soothing effects on the body seem very real. Choose from:

• The Classic Outdoors: a rock lined hot spring with natural rock floors and steamy mineral infused waters nestled in the mountains. All around you is beautiful greenery like a sweeping pine and low fragrant bushes. The serene air and the calm forest is only occasionally broken by the sound of a wooden pipe thudding hollowly against a rock at a steady interval or the sound of birdsong off in the trees. The relaxing atmosphere is enough to set even the tightest wound nerves at ease.
  
  
• The Marbled Columns: white and painted marble columns lead to a series of different shaped baths with statues of the gods pouring water into them. Each bath has a different healing property, which is clearly marked with a plaque at the rim of each: good for your circulation, your bones, your aches and pains, even acne and metabolic rate. The columns support a beautiful open ceiling that shows the perfectly blue sky overhead dotted with the occasional cloud.
  
  
• The Steamy Sauna: though seemingly austere in their white tile and deep blue bath basins, the air here is thick and steamy and the baths are deep with hand-rails leading down steps to help you enter. All around the basins are stone or wooden benches with towels laid down for those who wish to simply sit and let the warm air open their lungs. If you get too hot? Grab a bucketful of cold water from one of the freestanding tubs and douse yourself to get a shock and cool off.
  
  
• The Milk-and-Honey: a beautifully tiled bath with a large shallow rectangular basin. The surrounding walls and ceilings have blue, white, and gold geometric designs laid out with loving care in pleasant designs that ease the mind. The bath water here is filled with a concoction of milk and honey to soothe and smooth the skin, filling the air with a pleasing sweet scent. The effects of these baths on a person's skin is said to make them glow from the inside out for at least a day after bathing.
  
  
• The Theme Park: the first thing to greet you is the comically oversized bottle of red wine tipped to pour a continuous stream of red liquid into the large crystalline bath basin. The smell of wine is heavy but pleasant in the air and the crystalline basin is round and shaped like a wine glass. Climb up the glass steps and give yourself a good old soak in the red water. You might even find that taking a dip here gives you a heady happiness that lasts all day. And if it feels like you're a little drunk while there? That has to be your imagination! ...Maybe.

Hot springs are great to experience with friends to deepen that feeling of skinship you have with each other, and several Havenwell natives are doing just that. But what about those who don't have a friend to log in with? Don't worry! The game will randomly select another player from this or another facility and match you together. Isn't that nice? We're sure it is! Who doesn't want to talk to someone else while naked, right?

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This event will run from November 14th to the 31st. 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 here.

Comments

[unsunderworld]

To my knowledge, no; I'm afraid I must admit to being asleep at the time.

[Naps are good for the soul and the body.]

Perhaps a difference of our worlds, but I hardly expect the divine to be flawless. Possessed of less flaws than man, perhaps, but perfection is a heavy burden.

[iustaegis]

[ At that-- she blinks. The divine... with flaws? Or perhaps just the way in which their power manifests in this realm. Yes, that must be it. Pyra is certainly not flawless or infallible; ergo, she is no god. If anything, she is corrupted with humanity.

Yet he's saying that the divine can have flaws, and he's breaking her brain because if a god is everything then that means they must be perfect and imperfect all at once and-- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

She blinks again. ] Eh?

[ And again. ]

I never... [ She starts slowly, as if attempting to gather her thoughts. ] thought of it that way, but I suppose it makes sense. In my world, the Praetorium says that the Architect created mankind in His image. [ Well, eventually they came to reflect His image a bit, but only after billions of years; she knows this to be true, so the Praetorium is not technically incorrect. ] And... it is true, mankind has flaws. [ Therefore god has flaws too!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this was easier when she never had to think about this stuff ]

[unsunderworld]

[Ah, such is the nature of creatures of faith. He waits all too patiently for her to finish her train of thought, and then smiles faintly.]

Upon my world, it is quite so the other way around - from the very power of prayers and wishes were the gods born, even the eldest. I know not of the gods of this world; I daresay no one has yet thought to ask.

[Nor, he supposes, would they likely get a straight answer if they did. Gods are ever an enigma, even to their creators.]

If you find the variety of gods here overwhelming, I cannot begin to imagine your reaction to those of the Source.

[It is no small amount amused at the thought, sorry, Pyra.]

[iustaegis]

[ At the height of her power, unbound and without this humanity imprinted upon her-- she is able to make gods... but it does not come from prayers or wishes. Such is what Ontos has done, off in his own world.

But that people in Emet's own world have the power to make gods out of desires, out of wishes, out of their hopes is-- why, isn't that better? If a world like that could be made-- if she could make a world like that instead, where the power to create gods lies within the wishes within the hearts of men...

She is no so naive to believe that all hopes are lovely and benevolent; some are wretched and wrathful, others are envious and malicious, and many still are born from desperation. Yet--

She could cry, she's so moved to hear that a world like that already exists out in the great expanse that is the multiverse. ] Your world... [ Her voice drops to a whispers, bringing a hand up to her chest. ] A world in which gods are created from hopes... This "Source", too...

It sounds beautiful.

[ Maybe, she thinks, that is why the golden hue of his own eyes are beautiful, too; did someone before him wish for such a wisened color to exist, and thus a god was born to make it happen, to breathe into his soul with that hue? Does he himself have hopes and wishes, did he create gods with those hopes and wishes from his heart, and if so, what sort of being manifested from such personal desires? ]

[unsunderworld]

Perhaps. But do not forget that one man's hope might be for another man's doom, one man's salvation in another's ruin - I'm afraid that even beyond the way they steal the life of the land, man's little gods are more wont to war than not.

[The primals are not such a blessing as she might think. Increasingly, he has his suspicion that her relationship to the god of her own world is not so distant as she might like to pretend, for whatever else could make her gleam so?]

'Be careful what you wish for, for you may well receive it.' A phrase with its roots buried deep within the truth, I'm afraid.

[iustaegis]

[ She is certain that many here wished for immortality, and they found it in the form of destroying their original forms. She wonders if then, afterwards, any of the people wished for this barrier to shield them as their world continued to perish...

BUT MORE TO THE POINT.... She must look silly, tearing up at someone's description of the mechanics of their world. She lifts a finger to wipe at the corner of an eye, looking away as she presses her lips together. Yes, yes, she knows that one person's desire might be the bane of another's, but that that is the way his world work is no less... magnificent.

Except for one thing.

I'm afraid that even beyond the way they steal the life of the land-- ]

Why would... beings created from the hearts of men... take from the land that those mankind lives upon?

[unsunderworld]

Well, they must have the power to sustain themselves from somewhere, no? The energy required for an act of god to take place does not come from nowhere; if not from the worshippers, then they drink deep of the aether of the land.

[An oddity that she might notice, paying attention, is that as he speaks, while the word 'aether' is foreign, there is no doubt to what it means, both magical energy and life energy, the two effectively synonymous.]

There is a continent in the southern part of the Source called Meracydia which still today bears the scars of warring gods from three millennia ago. Little grows there save in isolated regions; much of it is a wasteland, uninhabitable.

[iustaegis]

[ ....Sounds a lot like the ether of her world, which comprises of both traditional elements and, well, actual physical particle elements.

Him talking of the Source peaks her interest; she had envisioned it to be some sort of great pulsar of energy, somewhere within a distant realm. He speaks of it as if it is physical place. A world-- with continents at that. ]

...And they were at war because of the wishes born from humans? [ Is she following this correctly. ]

[unsunderworld]

[Look, Final Fantasy referring to their worlds as 'stars' is just a thing the localization team has done this console generation.

But 'the Source' does indeed seem to be the name of the world, such as it is.]

One nation becomes an empire, brings magitek weapons far more advanced than anything the world has ever seen - to those they would conquer, what recourse is there but to beg aid from the gods? And so do even gods otherwise held to be peaceful go to war.

Usually, if the god so summoned is destroyed, the land will restore itself over time. Meracydia is the very most extreme of what can happen when primals run rampant through the land.

[iustaegis]

[ She can't help but recall--

How three Titan-continents sunk into the cloud-sea at the end of the War. Then another, cracked and left to decay at the maelstrom by the World Tree. One more, too, wrecked and charred all the way to the tips of her wings. This, all done by powers beyond that of humans, powers that should have never touched the earth.

He's beginning to paint a dangerous picture of these gods and primals when they are used as weapons at the behest of human desires. ]

....Should these... gods... have stayed unborn within the hearts of mankind or remained in their heavens instead?

[unsunderworld]

I suppose that is the crux of the matter, isn't it? If the potential for such destruction is a worthwhile risk to those with no other hope of salvation.

[It is not an answer he will give her - as a summoner himself, of the very most ancient of gods, it is not an answer he can give her. She will have to come to that answer for herself.

From how naive she seems to be, it will be good practice for her, he thinks. Critical thinking with little stake to her personally, about a world she will never visit and gods she will never know. A chance to feel out her own values and opinions about the matter.]

[iustaegis]

[ Suddenly, she feels ill, numb. Is it the wall? Is it something else?

She already has her answer. But he-- he is wise. A part of her seeks his as well, as if she might still have doubts of her own. ]

You... It is your world. What is your opinion, [ Slowly, her eyes raise to meet his. ] Emet-Selch?

[unsunderworld]

...A question with no easy answer, I'm afraid. For I was among those who summoned the first of such gods, and in the end, the world we sought to save faced perhaps a worse fate for our actions.

[While she might meet his gaze, it's clear that he is not meeting hers - not out of any intent not to, but simply because his eyes are too distant, focused on a far-distant past.]

For in the wake of Zodiark's summoning was called forth a counterpart, Hydaelyn - and by Her hand was the world split into fourteen. And whether this was salvation or destruction is perhaps the oldest war of all.

[iustaegis]

[ A god was born from his heart, then, for "the world we sought to save". Yet from that wish the world was eventually wrecked.

She gathers a few things from this. One: that Emet-Selch must be... old. Very old, to speak of such things. His eyes are distant, he's caught in the past in a world that is not her own. He has seen much, he has seen ages and death and life anew and war and war and war and war. Two: Hydaelyn, whose name she knows from Era, who is Her daughter. Three, what he does not say.

And as she attempts to wrap her mind around this, she takes a step towards him, as if she might step within the past and his world into which he is looking. It's intrusive; focus, back to the present, Emet-Selch, and answer. She presses, because he has not given his. Her voice is hollow. ]

Do you regret it? Your wish.

[unsunderworld]

...I have not the capability.

[It is quiet, and simple, but in a way, it is neither a yes nor a no.]

Those who summon are touched by the will of what they summon forever after, like fabrics dipped in dye. I could give you an answer, but it is not the honest answer I believe you seek, because I am no more capable of giving you that than the waves of the sea are of breathing fire.

[iustaegis]

[ How was he changed, she wonders, if the god he summoned was born from his very heart? If all gods in his world are born from desires?

At last, however, she seems satisfied for the moment. If she's truly curious, she might ask this question upon the network to gain further insight. Thus Pyra takes a step back, although she appears far more tired than she had been before. ]

Then, the god you created from your wish.... tell me about them.

[ A pause, as she gathers more of her thoughts. ] Was this god splendorous, like your soul? [ Rather, like she pretended to describe his soul, after observing the color of his eyes. ]

[unsunderworld]

[It is a moment before he begins, because he must first settle on where. The tale of Zodiark and Hydaelyn is incomplete without an understanding of what came before, after all.]

The city in which I lived, called Amaurot, was home to people of far greater strength of soul than the people of now, or any I have yet seen on this world. We were creators - even the youngest of children could use their aether to form whatever they might imagine. Sometimes these things went awry, but in general, 'twas as peaceful and blissful an existence as one might imagine, all living together in harmony.

Until the Sound. We first heard of it in other cities, far from ours, but it came too to Amaurot as inevitability. And once it had sounded, every hell one could imagine broke loose, for any creation became a monster. Being a peaceful people, the vast majority of Amaurot knew of no way to defend themselves but to Create a protector, and thus did the problem compound, and compound, unto our very destruction.

[Somber, quiet. For all that he speaks of a time of utmost chaos, there is a stillness in him. Grief for what has been lost, never to return.]

The world itself was dying. And so in our desperation did we seek to create a will for the planet itself, who could restore the order we had lost, and make the world whole once more. half of their survivors gave of their very lives in this endeavor, and from that aether was born Zodiark.

[iustaegis]

[ She listens quietly, attentively, a picturesque audience in one: her expression shifts from sorrow to sympathy to surprise to sorrow again. For him, for the people he knew, for his world. His grief isn't quite palpable, especially for someone whose expressions are a subtle as his, yet...

From the way he describes his once-home, she imagines there remains a bit of longing for what once was, a feeling of loss.

So. He was a... creator of sorts. She does not know what that means, exactly, but it sounds fascinating.  Many questions remain from him-- from of his home called Amaurot, to what it means to be a creator, to even why he only wears one earring-- but she saves those for later, nodding slightly with a swallow.

She whispers, ] 

Zodiark.

[ A god that he created-- with others, born of sacrifices and a desire for restoring their world. A being that embodied the will of the planet, of his own heart. What does Zodiark look like. What does Zodiark's power feel like. What would it be like to observe this Zodiark's might for herself, to know how a god born of someone's heart is.... ]

[unsunderworld]

[A simple nod, as she repeats the name. The origins of it are beyond mattering now.]

What we sought to create was a will for the star itself, to preserve it beyond even ourselves. Many more sacrificed themselves that the lifeblood of the land might be restored; that growing things would once more grow, that birds and beasts walk again.

And the land grew and blossomed once more under our care. And with this accomplished did we hope to restore our fallen, to tend the land that it might in turn allow us to restore those who had given their souls to His keeping, and it was to this that Hydaelyn's summoners objected. And from their desire to hold Zodiark in check came Hydaelyn, whose blow shattered Him, and thus the world itself and all who dwelled within, unto fourteen reflections.

[He will not speak to the dream that lived in the hearts of those who summoned Hydaelyn. Even much as he hates them, he cannot believe that it was this, the destruction that followed salvation that followed destruction. He cannot believe that any of them truly desired the Sundering, as it would play out.

Perhaps that is his own last remaining naivety.]

[iustaegis]

[ His story weaves an image as epic as myths, except she takes his as true— if albeit artistically put. There is more to this story, as he is collapsing ages and the destruction and reformation of worlds into mere sentences.  The lives that were lost, the lives that were gained since then... she wonders about them all, of their future.

How can she know of the magnificence of the god born from his and his people’s wishes by mere story? She can’t, but she realizes she wishes she could to feel that sort of power it held. No matter what destruction came of the gods, that they had been born of others is... wonderful, she thinks. (Fleetingly, she wonders what power penned the fundamental laws of a world like that.) She feels for him, in his loss and sacrifice for his role in this tale, she understands the destruction that has happened; she weeps for who have fallen, who he was unable to restore. Yet he continues to live and tell this story for those, ignorant like her, to hear, to listen, to honor.

She's exceptionally grateful for it, and that grace dances in her eyes. ]

Your heart... 

[ And the god that had been born from it. ]

One day, I wish to see Him. [ Not that... she's entirely sure it would be possible in this world. But there, she said it. As if to emphasize her point, she lifts a hand to bring it up between them, placing her fingers upon the slight left side of his chest. ] And know Him.

[ She smiles. ] Because that would be like knowing you, yes?

[unsunderworld]

[Such a straightforward young woman. It has been such a very long time since he encountered one who was so earnest, in a way that is so surprisingly, so likely to catch him without reply. Most mortals have long since become predictable to him.

But then, he has his doubts, that Pyra is anything that might be called mortal, at least any moreso than he is. He has very many questions, and eventually he will turn to seeking his answers.

For now, he hardly reacts to the hand on his chest. While she may not be able to feel much of the warmth of him or his heartbeat through the layers of fabric, it does indisputably rise and fall with purely natural breathing, a slightly higher rise just before he speaks.]

Perhaps, perhaps not. I was hardly the only one who gave shape to that summoning, after all. If there is a piece of me in Him, then it is surely no more or less a piece than there is of Lahabrea and all the others. If anything, the piece of Elidibus might be largest, considering that he speaks for Zodiark in His slumber.

[Strangely, for all that there might normally be confusion about which pronouns belong to which in that sentence, the meaning is perfectly clear, almost as though the capital letters could be heard.

A quirk of his lips, into an amused line.]

If it is me you wish to know, then I confess the best source remains in front of you.

1/2

[iustaegis]

[ Lahabrea, Elidibus; more names-- more like him, perhaps, who collectively birthed this Zodiark? More like him, as in, more who desired so much for his world, and lost it all save for a lingering hope, she thinks. She, too, is hopeful to be able to see this Zodiark at some point in the future...

Her hand falls from him, as does the warmth. He is so much more than he seems, a captivating presence. He's an orator, the way he speaks betraying a refined practice of telling stories, histories, legends. And that certainly sounds like an invitation to ask more, like he's been waiting for an audience to tell.

She has a great many questions from which she might choose to ask. ]

Mm... Then, to start with... [ She peers at him for a moment, as if mulling over the question. ]

[iustaegis]

[ Then, straightening, she smiles inquisitively. ]

So. You are a creator.

What was your favorite thing to create?

[ ICE CREAM? ]

[unsunderworld]

[Ah, at last, a simple question on which he need not guard his response. She is young, yet, and even as he is, the old fragments of Amaurot that remain within him require him to allow children that place to grow into themselves and their own thoughts, without shaping them too closely.

But this? This he might speak passionately of for hours, without needing censor himself. It is an easy subject.]

Why - architecture. From Amaurot's skyline to the more pedestrian designs of one's own home to the towering space of a throne room or a temple, my love has always been most for building. It was always among the most challenging sorts of creation, and not only for the size of it.

[His smile is genuine, too, as he gestures at the wall above them.]

Take this wall, for example. One must keep in mind the very practical purpose, of course, of separating the city from the beyond - but also one must keep in mind that the residents shall look upon it every day. It must be high enough to be protective, but not so much that it is obtrusive, overshadowing the sky. It must not be bland to look upon, lest it feel more like prison than protection, and yet it must also not be so overwrought that one notices it upon every glance skyward. And then there is the balance of the height of the wall against the view of the taller buildings within the city, both from the outside looking in that those tallest rooftops might be seen, and the inside looking out, that one can stand upon a balcony or look out a window and see something other than the wall itself.

[A pause.]

Though the latter, I suppose, matters little in this circumstance. A pity.

[iustaegis]

[ He may speak of the wall and its features, but she keeps her eyes on him instead. Emet-Selch describes creating, and he does seemingly enthusiastically. Architecture is indeed is passion, from the way he describes making entire skylines. ] Purposeful and beautiful.... and sacrificing neither one for the other.

[ Now that takes profound skill. She smiles. ] Objects can only hope to be both.

[ It makes her wonder what his opinion of this wall and this city is, and what changes he'd made or recommend to the council. The wall is one thing, however, while the barrier is another; she's always thought of the sun and moon above as an illusion, unless of course the barrier itself may filter out the haze of the storm outside. ]

If... you could envision this wall differently, would you be able to create it here for them?