January Event: Setting Fire to the Sky

[lifeaftr_mods]

JANUARY EVENT: SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY

Who: Everyone!
What: The sun dies, and the creatures of the night emerge from the depths
When: January 21st - January 28th
Where: Everywhere! Ensō, Monsun, Chol, and the Islets
Warnings: Character death, possible body horror and violence. Please mark any additional warnings as needed!

So We Can Take the World Back From the Heart-Attacked

The night of the 21st, the sun begins to dim. It dips in the horizon, sinks to nestle itself in the center of Chol like a star falling in slow motion, where it begins to smolder quietly - massive, smoking, and hot, like a massive egg. The night grows colder, the sky reduced to an inky black. The surface of the surrounding water is still but for the occasional ripple, the odd, strangely subdued wave, with not even the hollow lights of distant stars to glint off its reflective waves.

The Jormun gather around the sunken, dying sun with their scaled hands on their weapons, their expressions grim. They fan out across the island of Chol with arms in hand. Their fortifications have settled around the island's center in a dense ball of bristling weapons. They have been preparing for this. They are ready to fight.

Are you? No island is safe. From the well-trodden mainland of Ensō and its islets to the stark dichotomy of Monsun to the craggy shores of Chol, all manner of strange things have begun to haul themselves, dripping, from the watery dark.

No more preparation. No more running.

From here on out, it is fight or die.

One Maniac At a Time, We Will Take It Back

As the Storyteller has promised, there is sanctuary in their temple on Ensō, which will keep out the worst of the creatures. It will not, however, protect characters from the cold and dark, and so they will have to keep themselves warm some other way.

The Jormun fight fiercely, but they do not fight alone. Aside from the help that the willing of your number have offered, you may glimpse the Storyteller battling alongside the rest in a flurry of strange, shifting animal shapes: a heavy-antlered reindeer, a shrieking owl with outstretched talons, a slavering grizzly bear with the Storyteller's signature tome strapped across a broad, furry back, to name but a few. Those creatures that the Storyteller defeats will burst into a flurry of paper and dark, spattering ink, rather than being felled in the conventional manner. How odd.

As this is an event with a high risk of death, the Storyteller will impose death penalties for one week only. However, deaths succumbed during the event will count towards the character's total.

Then I'll Raise You Like a Phoenix

Come the sunrise on the 28th, the sun will launch itself into the air with a victorious shriek, its wings trailing plumes of fire behind it. The phoenix takes flight, reborn from the ashes. The shores of Chol are littered with corpses, both shadowy and scaled, along with an even smattering of crumpled paper and splotched inkstains. Despite the triumph of the fight, it did not come without its costs. The Jormun gather their dead and prepare to mourn them quietly. Those who perished in the fight will not see the sunrise from this unique perspective, watching the murk of the night tint to soft, milky yellow and pink, and then to a glorious new day.

Munin will greet the survivors with a mixture of solemnity and relief, thanking them profusely for their help. There is not much more that her people can offer you, at this point - they must grieve their dead, and she must return to the sea to prove that she has cemented her worth as a leader in the eyes of the other Jormun - but that does not mean that your stories will part forever.

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] January 20th: Monthly Storytelling occurs as usual
[ ♆ ] January 21st: The dark arrives, the temperature drops further, and the first hostile creatures begin their assault
[ ♆ ] January 28th: The dark ends and the sun rises
[ ♆ ] January 30th: Those who perished are revived, suffering from a reduced death penalty

Event Specifics

[ ♆ ] If you have any questions, feel free to look over our OOC Info Post.
[ ♆ ] Feel free to make your own logs if necessary!
[ ♆ ] If your character perishes in this event, please let us know!
[ ♆ ] Item trades with the Jormun can be found on the OOC plotting post here! Even if you were only recently accepted, you are free to participate!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

Gobbet | OTA | Will Match Formats

[ratsinadaze]

21st | Chol; Rathm | rage, brutal, without mercy

[In hindsight, it was fucking stupid.]

[They'd been on a scouting mission. On their way up a rocky cliffside path to a vantage point where they could strike from above as the beasts funneled in towards the camp. She'd heard the wailing and...and thought of that kid. Kidwun, they'd called themselves. Gobbet almost ignored it. Almost managed to drown it out.]

[Almost.]

[You can find her now barely holding back a wiry figure, snarling and screeching with rage, with the broad side of her spear. It has her pinned down and it's clear her strength is waning. In between labored grunts, Gobbet laughs. What a way to go. This is what she gets for caring. A whole lot of death.]

22nd | Chol; Uskal | but you will be worse

[Gobbet is crouched low on the ridge overlooking the beach and mana pool. She holds a torch in one hand and a wicked-looking spear, grown by the Jormun themselves, in the other. It's a simple mission she has in mind: wait for the next surge of enemies, use the cliff as cover to reach camp and warn of their approach.]

[After the Rathm incident she's wary of any strange sounds she hears. The eerie singing from the water's edge is an annoyance at first. She's certain it's a trap. It has to be. Isn't it? The louder it grows and the longer she listens, the more she finds herself scooting down the steep path to the beach, torch flickering wildly as she stumbles along. Until finally, she sees it. A...horse. It's singing, that eerie anthem of the night, and she can't resist. She can't stop herself from dropping the torch in the snowy sand where it quickly sputters and dims. Can't stop herself from reaching...]

[Reaching out...]

23rd | Chol; Grimlings | rip and tear

[It's a swarm, plain and simple.]

[The Grimlings surround her and the Jormun with her. Before she knows what's going on, she's alone, separated in the darkness and surrounded.]

[This is how she dies. She can feel it in her chest. Where's Shepard when you need her?]

[She drives her spear deep into one's flank, whips around to rake it across the snout of another one. They bite at her legs and claw at her arms. They fall, one after another, but...They're endless, a shifting mass of inky black fur and gnashing teeth, howling and snarling and-]

[And she slips. Down into the roiling sea of shadows.]

24th-26th | Chol; Back at Camp | until it is done

[Gobbet has injuries to tend to.]

[She sits by the fire side, rats curled up in her lap, a cup of hot liquid in her hands. She looks bedraggled and exhausted, drained of her usual spry energy. Her face is set in a firm frown, eyes half-lidded as if she's going to fall asleep on the spot.]

[Bandages adorn her arms and legs, even one around her neck where a Grimling vied for dominance. She doesn't acknowledge anyone who approaches. Doesn't protest if they sit by the fire with her.]

27th-28th | Anywhere; Anything | wildcard

[Hit me.]

21st

[lightlessfuture]

[ The Rathm is entirely preoccupied with Gobbet, and that allows the Knight plenty of time to leap onto its back and climb it swiftly.

(It reminds them of Nosk, this one; all limbs and crying voices, luring bugs to their deaths.

Perhaps it's the memory of those lifeless bodies, strung up carelessly - the bodies of their siblings, lured by their own faces - that makes their attacks...different, this time.)

Instead of slashing, the Knight grips the handle of their nail tightly with one hand and drives it hard into the Rathm's neck, holding on with their other three limbs. (Perks of being buglike - feet and hands were a flexible definition.) Again. And again. And again.

When the Rathm stops struggling, the knight's mask is splattered with gore. They don't seem to care or notice, but they do hurry over to Gobbet, looking her over. Is she hurt? ]

[ratsinadaze]

[The brutality of the Knight's outburst is...surprising. Gobbet stares, wide-eyed as the little creature plunges it's sword into the Rathm's neck over and over and over and good lord, kid, it's dead, it's dead. She senses something personal behind it. That kind of ferocity only comes from either desperation or bitter memories.]

Huh. Didn't know you had it in ya, little buddy.

[She shoves the Rathm's body to the side, sitting up slowly. There's a sharp pain in her shoulder as she pushes herself up. A set of claw marks, jagged and deep. Now that the adrenaline of imminent death is wearing off, she's starting to feel the sting of the wound.]

...ah, hell. You okay?

[In other words: Who's she spending this heal on?]

[lightlessfuture]

[ They lack an outlet to express their feelings in any other way;

You are free of such blemishes. You could contain that thing inside.

in fact, feelings are what they're not supposed to have.

They can't speak of these things, of course, nor express them with that blank face. But Gobbet is more right than she knows, about memories.

They shiver a little, as if waking from a bad dream, at the sound of Gobbet's voice; they wipe their face free of the murky blood the Rathm had produced.

Then they gingerly brush themselves off, nod to show that they're okay, and give her hand a pat. It seems like they're fine, at least for now, and she can concentrate on healing herself. ]

[ratsinadaze]

[It's getting easier to interpret the Knight's actions as words. Without facial expressions or vocals, she assumes everything is a sentence in one way or another. Nodding or shaking your head is simple enough, for example, but little things like touches or the shiver that she caught even in the darkness, took a little more interpretation.]

[For example, she could tell she was right about the memories - there was no desperation in the attack, just brutal efficiency and a little overkill. And she could tell the Knight was unharmed. Which she was grateful for because the wound on her shoulder was staining her armor and stinging like a son of bitch.]

Could have been much worse if you hadn't bailed me out, I'll tell you that much for free.

[Gobbet lays down her spear, summoning a small ball of red light in her hand. She holds it up to the wound and the glow washes over it, exaggerating the crimson blood with its own red tint. The wound knits together seamlessly, the blood on her armor simply disappears. It's as if she sent the wound back in time to a point where it did not exist. The glow fades and Gobbet gets to her feet.]

Seriously, thanks for that.

[It's kind of funny. She thought the little bug creature might be the one to need her protection. Oh how the tables have turned.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ The knight watches in wonder as Gobbet makes her wound simply disappear. They've seen magic, before, in a way - at the very least, the channeling of SOUL, which was a kind of magic - but nothing like this.

They'd try to touch the light, but they have an irrational little fear that they might make it disappear, or something. So they simply watch, entranced.

As for the thanks, they pat her hand again. It wasn't a problem; they saw she needed help, and helped her. That's what they do, or part of what they do, anyway.

They look up at her again; at her face, this time. An inquisitive little headtilt accompanies the action. What is she planning to do next? ]

26th, camp

[prettypurpleparlor]

Here, dearie- I think you could use this.

[Muffet greets Gobbet by way of holding out a seaweed roll for her to take as she sits down beside her, looking just as weary but thankfully less injured. The healing effects of monster food likely are helping her on that front, hence the offer.]

[ratsinadaze]

Hey, muffin. [It's devoid of her usual cheer.] Thanks, I haven't eaten in a while, I guess.

[Gobbet accepts the roll gratefully. When was the last time she stopped to eat? A few days ago, maybe? It's hard to keep track of time when the sun never rises or sets. It tastes like heaven in her dry, stale mouth. She breaks a small piece off to give to her rats, who have spent the past several days tucked away in her knapsack, feeding off of nuts and dried oats. Not the best diet for them, but it would be okay for a bit.]

[The animals seem to think very highly of Muffet's cooking.]

It's nasty out there.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[The corners of Muffet's lips twitch at the nickname- a little too tired to be a smile, but still amused.]

Certainly one of the more unpleasant evenings I've had, if only by sheer length. The line seems to be holding, at least.

[If she pays attention to her wounds, Gobbet will find that the roll isn't just tasty- it's also healed a few of them for her. The benefits of magic cooking.]

[ratsinadaze]

[Gobbet definitely is paying attention to her wounds - she's used to not getting hit. That's her strategy. Don't get hit. But in close quarters with limited spell casts, being overrun by dog-shadow-things? That was not an option.]

[So as she feels some of the bruises and minor cuts fade, she sighs in relief. The aches subsiding is the best thing that's happened to her all night. Gobbet extends the cup in her hands to Muffet as a thank you.]

Here, it's that stuff I can't pronounce that they give to people to warm them up. You look pretty beat.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet takes the cup with an appreciative smile, sipping delicately from it. Good thing she doesn't mind spicy food.]

Thank you. Mm, it's a shame I never got around to asking them for the recipe... I'm well enough, just a bit tired.

[Okay, maybe more than a bit, but whatever.]

23rd!!!! SHEPPER COMIN'

[tenthstreetbred]

[When Gobbet falls, she doesn't fall for long. There's the sound of rapid gunfire and some of the shadows turn away from each other, heads twisting at the smell of carnage as bullets tear one of their numbers into pieces. A hand, armored and bristling with a blue and white energy reaches out and grabs her arm, pulling Gobbet upright again. Shepard's helmet is open, the Storyteller's necklace bright and shining around her neck and she cocks her gun and sets off another small burst of fire. The Grimlings scatter and some of them turn off to feast upon their fallen comrades. The others circle warily around this newcomer to the battlefield.

Shepard looks to Gobbet, giving her a quick once over with her eyes.]

You all right?

[It's good to see her. Even if it's in the middle of a war zone.]

!

[ratsinadaze]

[Where's Shep when you need her? Right there, apparently.]

[Gobbet feels the hand around her arm and redoubles her efforts to stand, kicking out at the teeth snapping at her legs and elbowing her way into an upright position. The dogs - or Grimlings, or whatever these godforsaken nightmares are called - separate and regroup around their fallen in a orgy of bloodlust and hate. Gobbet can't tear her eyes away. It's just like that night on the docks, really.]

[But she's upright again and Shepard's words cause her to shake herself off and do a quick stock of her wounds.]

[Neck, bloodied. Not bad enough to bleed out, but after this she would get it treated back at camp just to make sure it doesn't get infected. Arms, covered in minor bites and scratches. Sides, bruised but unharmed thanks to the body armor. Legs, similar - they'd had trouble getting through the thick fabric of her pants.]

I'm...fine. Fine enough. Thanks.

[Gobbet grabs her spear from where it clattered to the snowy ground and readies herself. Already, those who realized they weren't getting in on the morbid meal have turned their attention back to the two. She seems more comfortable with another person at her side, even if she is tense and bristling with dull pain and bright anger. Nobody and nothing almost kills her without getting as good as they gave.]

sorry for the late reply yikes

[tenthstreetbred]

You're welcome. Don't want you kicking the bucket a second time. It's far too soon for that.

[Any time before Gobbet is 99 years old is too young in Shepard's opinion, but she doesn't really have time to say that before she's throwing back a particularly brave Grimling that leaps out at her.]

Do you need to get back to the temple? I can give you some cover.

lmao it's fine, i'm behind too

[ratsinadaze]

Temple? Nah, I've got scores to settle.

[One Grimling tests her reflexes, snapping at her heel and receiving a backwards kick to the snout for its troubles.]

Thanks, though. What're you doing out here? Besides saving my sorry ass.

[Casual conversation? In the middle of a pack of man-eating dog beasts? Sure, why not. Sounds like her brand of cocky assholery. The pendent around her neck casts an eerie glow over the grimlings closest to her and they shy away from it. Gobbet makes a point of moving in ways that make it swing wide and cast the glow farther. Like brandishing a torch.]

[tenthstreetbred]

[That earns a wicked smile out of the commander and she swings her gun around violently, the butt of her assault rifle slamming and cracking the face of a nearby Grimling that got too close.]

Who am I to stop you from settling them then.

[After all, other than being knocked over Gobbet looks pretty put together.]

Helping the Jormun defend the sun. I've been out here punching every godforsaken shadow that so much as sneezes in its direction.

[She feels a Grimling try to bite through her armor on her leg and she kicks it back, turning around to set off a Shockwave that sends it and a couple of friends flying into the air.]

24th

[growingpains]

[At first it had been difficult to believe what the Jormun had said about the sun dying but the moment it had proved out to be true he did the smart thing and withdrew to the temple. So far he's stayed inside for most part, trying to find ways to be helpful for others, but once in a while it got to his nerves to loom within four walls and he had to step outside into the fresh air.

Just like now.

He walks towards the fire, tail curled carefully against his leg, seeking for that comforting warmth and light. There are few others who seems to have same idea as him near the campfire. He doesn't recognize the majority of them, which unfortunately isn't anything new to him, but his attention is caught by rough looking woman who's trying to patch herself up.

That doesn't look practical or comfortable.]

Do you need any help with that?

[ratsinadaze]

[Gobbet looks up from her struggles with her neck bandage. It's hard to wrap something you can't really see, especially when it's so tender. She offers the stranger a tired grin and opens her mouth to crack a joke. But her heart's not in it, and all that comes out is a sigh.]

Sure, kid. Thanks.

[She's definitely eyeing the ears. Staring is probably rude, but like. Ears.]

[growingpains]

Ok.

[Oh, he can definitely feel the stare. It's become apparent to him that the concept of "having ears" isn't familiar to anyone else but him on this island -- a fact that he's not sure what to think about. He can feel the back of his neck burning a little under her stare and his fingers itch as he pulls out a fresh bandages. His bandaged wrists peeks out from underneath of his sleeves.]

Give me your hand, miss.

[ratsinadaze]

[Gobbet muses on the fact that she's seen horns, tusks, and pointed elf ears - hell she's met a spider lady - so cat ears shouldn't really surprise her. Still, it's an oddity and she's interested in knowing what leads to one having cat ears. Surely that's not like. A birth trait, right? Those are attachments or implants of some sort?]

[She extends her hand for Ritsuka's inspection. It, like the rest of her, is covered in partially healed cuts and bruises. The Jormun had done their best to apply healing salves and bandage the worst of it, but she'd insisted they focus on the fight and not her. Not, contrary to popular belief, out of selflessness, but because she desperately wanted some alone time.]

You a medic?

[growingpains]

[Yikes. Luckily it looks like she's gotten some first-aid to her injuries already but that doesn't mean they're pretty to look at. Guess it's good thing that he's already somewhat used to sight of cuts and bruises that he doesn't wince.]

Not really. I just think some things are useful to know.

[He replies gently and starts wrapping the bandage around her hand. He makes sure to tie the bandage firmly so that it wont get loose.]

What about you? Did you fight the monsters?

22nd

[proficienciesouttheass]

[ Here's the thing: Magnus is used to a lot of battles. He's been through a lot of insane shit for far longer than most people would imagine, looking at him. Sure, he's a large burly dude with a lot of scars, but there's a lot more to his life than people would assume of a normal human.

Having to hold guard for so many days isn't really something he's used to. And he's never fought monsters like these, but he has fought some similar to it.


He's walking about the cliffs, ax in hand, when he notices a torch light heading down to the beach. Most people stick close to the camp, which is why this catches his attention, specially as the light moves towards the water.

He steps down a path, idly following the light, more curious than anything else. He notices the torch fall, and it's dark, but he sees the person walk away from it. For something. What's happening?

He hops over a rock, and two, and is soon by the sand, crouched down and quiet, making good use of his rogue training to try and track this person. But, then, he sees it, he catches a glimpse of something in the water. ]

Hey--hey!

What are you doing?

[ratsinadaze]

[At first, she's almost angry at the voice for interrupting the singing of the Uskal. But when her eyes start to focus and she sees the monstrosity before her, her hand recoils close to her body and she dances several steps backwards.]

[The Uskal is not pleased to lose its meal.]

[The thing brays and bucks, kicking up a spray of icy water that completely douses the discarded torch and leaves Gobbet damp and chilled. Her first instinct is to mute its lure - its voice - and, as a result, her spear tip searches the dark for the thing's throat.]

[She needs light.]

Shit! Bring a torch or something, please!

[proficienciesouttheass]

Oh shit!

[ Shit shit shit. Huh, light. He didn't bring a torch! Shit, what can he-

Then he remembers the necklace he found in his backpack, back at the beginning of the month, which he kept with him since. He pulls it out from under his best, a small drop-shaped ..charm? Something with a glowing liquid inside of it, that casts a light impossibly strong for something so small.

He runs over to her side, pendant bouncing on his chest but still casting enough light on the creature, and he takes out his ax from his back.]

Go!

cw: neck trauma, blood

[ratsinadaze]

["Go"? Go where? There's a wall of rocky cliffside behind them and ocean in front of them, with fields of dark beach stretching to either side. No, Gobbet doesn't see any option but to kill this thing before it kills them or the noise draws worse enemies.]

[When the pendant's light touches the horse-creature it recoils and makes a hoarse, rasping noise. A far cry from the beautiful song Gobbet was hearing just moments ago. But the light tells her where she needs to aim and-]

[She drives the spear deep into its throat, wrenching to the left as hard as she can to really bring the point home. There's a spray of reddish-black goo that she assumes is blood and adhesive, a gurgling yell, and it tumbles forward unsteadily. Not quite dead, but gravely injured.]

[Unfortunately Gobbet can't free her spear from its flesh, between the sticky goo covering it and the awkward twisting motion she used to try and kill it. She's basically attached to the stupid creature.]

[This is a hell of a grisly scene.]