Exploration Event: Neverwere

[lifeaftr_mods]

EXPLORATION EVENT: NEVERWERE

Who: Everyone!
What: Your wildest dreams come true!
When: May 15th to May 18th
Where: Ziziphus, those still on Ensō...and Mu
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Then Know That My Life Was Just a Killer Dream
You can find most of the information you need in the OOC info post! In the meantime, feel free to use this log as a catch-all for your dream worlds, as well as detailing your efforts to free one another. Whether they're on Ziziphus or Ensō at the time of the dreams' capture, your character is free to access as many dreams as you like, as the interlocking mental landscape allows for that sort of crossing over apropos of nothing. And time, of course, is very fluid in dreams - many days, months, and years can transpire in a matter of mere minutes.

Will you fight your way free from Ziziphus's vines or Mu's thrall, or are you content to die in your sleep?

Remember to let us know if your character dies during this event!

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] May 15th: The vines make their move, ensnaring characters in ideal fantasy worlds
[ ♆ ] May 17th: The Storyteller will make contact with those they can, as well as issue information and a potential solution
[ ♆ ] May 18th: Those that have not freed themselves from the vines or from Mu will suffer a death

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

bliss | open to those willing to travel to E3

[thankgods]

[You will undoubtedly smell them before you see them, and when you see them, it is the eye of the storm in the very heart of their nexus of sprawling, clinging, curling plant matter. The ground under your feet is soft and spongey - the remnants of long dead, partially decayed vines pooling into a pudding-like mulch that has never been cleared away.]

[The dense woodland and soft hiss of slithering, climbing vines opens into a clearing. The cloying stink of rot is beyond omnipresent. At the heart sits something vast and round, nearly six feet in height and just as wide in diameter. One would not be remiss to liken it to a large bulb, particularly if one examines the ground at its base, where the pale slivers of roots sink into the dirt - doubtless to flower into the network of vines encompassing every inch of this island.]

[Rapid-fire images blitz through your mind's eye in a sporadic flash, should you draw close: a bluebird, wings folded at its side; a sprig of flowers varying in tint from bloodred to pastel violet, perhaps recognizable to some as sweet pea; an ingot of warm gold.]

[This is Bliss.]

[If you peer closer, you'll be able to pick out subtle intricacies in the grimed, bulblike texture of their skin. Dark, wrinkled divots in their verdurous flesh that resemble sleepily squint-shut eyes, and a wide, wide curve along their center - folds of plant matter forming a sagging, smiling face that manages to look both tiredly deep-set and utterly, eerily content. They are living in the squalor of their own decaying flesh. Grotesquely large, sitting flabbily in a mess of long-shed, dead plant matter, they are the very picture of overindulgence and gluttony.]

[They are Bliss. They are happiness at everything and everyone else's expense.]

[But if you come close enough, they will briefly turn away from their self-absorption, one of their droop-shut eyes peeks ever so slightly open.]

[How you choose to act next may decide how they elect to respond...at least for a time. They are, after all, rather uninterested in anything that does not immediately contribute to their own contentment.]`

i'm really sorry in advance

[scourgingstars]

[Ardyn Lucis Caelum had been a selfless person who knew only compassion and kindness. Perhaps, if he had persisted beyond the world of dreams, then this would be a different situation entirely.]

[Unfortunately for most, he had not.]

[Ardyn Izunia knew only hatred and fury, all of which was amplified by what the daemon within him saw as humiliation. To have a fragment of humanity again drawn out and taunted with all he had once desired was toying with him in a way the avatar of destruction could not tolerate. It made him angry, truly enraged in a way that turned the underlying fury of his eternal background noise to a deafening roar that could not be ignored.]

[Or restrained, judging by the blackened scourge on his face and neck staining pallid skin. Destroy, screamed the malice within him, and the will animating the unliving corpse agreed. The thing that was responsible would die, whether at Ardyn's hands or another.]

[And that was how he came to find the god of the idyllic dream. For once, there was no long grandiloquent speech; only seething hatred from the human-shaped monster with the blackened eyes and corpselike appearance, bringing flames to his hands at a thought. Now as ever he wore an empty smile on his face--but today it was less a hollow gesture and more as if he was reveling in the idea of what the god of this island was about to suffer through.]

Burn.

[And with no more than that, he threw a Fire spell directly at the creature itself.]

=)

[thankgods]

[Oh, Ardyn.]

[They remember you. A Lucian King with scarlet hair wild as wind, with a patient smile and a soul-deep ache to live in the world they built for you. You were so happy there, Ardyn. You were happier, by far, than you are here and now.]

[When Bliss speaks, the words ooze out in a sleepy mumble, spoken slowly, as though issuing them aloud is a difficult, dreary task.]

Lucis...Caelum...mmm...

[A curtain of vines swells up to try and counter the infernal blast. It singes through easily, and the god's eyes crease into deeper furrows in apparent agony.]

Were you not...happy...

[scourgingstars]

Izunia.

[The name came out viciously, snapped like the jaws of a starving havocfang. White crystals flashed, bringing a scarlet greatsword to his hands. He'd like to see it block with no vines left to raise.]

I rather thought that went without saying. Do I look happy?

[hellawrath]

Oh holy fucking shitballs. This stinks, literally and also every other -ally on the board. Lup definitely needs to take a moment here to appreciate just how fucking gross this thing is, swollen and rotting like a whale cadaver, smelling like the cabbage you forgot in the back of the fridge for a month. This is horrible and grotesque and she's not gonna feel a shred of remorse for burning it all down, if she has to.

But that's not what she's gonna do, just yet. For all that the fires of vengeance are burning hotly in her heart, she wants to believe there's a chance for this all to not end in flames. For those still trapped, who might get hurt if the blaze spreads fast through the roots, and for the Storyteller.

She narrows her eyes at the images sparking in her mind, pretty, inviting, and completely worthless from where she's standing. Looks like she's got somebody's attention, though. She steps across the decaying mush on the ground, Umbra Staff in hand but not raised, and willing everybody at her back to just be cool for like one second here.

"Rapsho! We're here under your old buddy the Storyteller's protection, and they'd really love it if you picked up the Stone once in a while!" Look, she's been too busy fighting dragons and huge fuckoff praying mantises on the way here to prepare a speech, alright? She thinks very hard of a bunny with antlers, and the happiness of hearing from family separated for too long. "I get that our minds are super delicious, but you can't keep doing this!"

[yourattention]

"Yeah, mom says it's my turn on the Xbox, asshole!"

. . . Like many things Connor says, this statement definitely makes more sense to him, but he hopes the sentiment is universal. Is he here because Gabe gave him a bomb and he's about to get rid of it in the most satisfying way possible? Probably. Don't worry about it.

[thankgods]

Use of the name Rapsho gains very little response, a slow cracking of those eyes until both are semi-focused on Lup- or not at all, really. Looking in her direction whilst looking beyond her, exhaling contentedly.

"Why... speak with them..? One who...has nothing... to offer me..?"

From the mush around her feet, the vines slither upwards, lazily coiling in the air. Spirals upon spirals. The one closest to Connor doesn't even bother with that much, sliding across the ground in an attempt to snare his ankles.

"Happiness... is all. You... cannot deny that..."

[meredream]

[In the world of dreams a nameless man walked an endless path until the eyes turned inwards.

In reality the Hunter walked a path of blood and countless deaths. A world where he sought a cure in the city of Yharnam and became what he did just to survive it. Where the Hunter wandered into a nightmare and sought answers to the past of the Hunters and the blood curse laid upon them. He slaughtered thousands and was slaughtered in turn.

Bliss had given him the only way someone like him could be happy and it was an idle fantasy at best. And it's not something that makes him angry. His ability to tell the difference between dreams and reality was not normal to begin with.

It's just the danger this God presents to others. And so a Hunter will hunt.

The Hunter has no fancy magic like others and he wouldn't be good at it even if he had a crash course on the way here. All he has is the Saw Cleaver and the Blunderbuss. Snapping the blade open with a swing of his arm, the Hunter charges directly at Bliss. He's aware of the vines so that's on his mind, but the sooner they kill Bliss the better.

There's no more time for words, after all.]

[piercetheheart]

Magic has never been his forte and once he'd parted ways with Ignis it became something he was unused to in battle. There was fire here, flames from Ardyn and that was unsettling enough to almost make him hesitate. Flames just like Ardyn's beast Cerberus, like all the damage Ifrit had wrought. The entirety of Insomnia burning to ash and there's just enough similarity that it's hard to remember exactly where he is. It doesn't matter though, Cerberus or Ifrit or Bliss.

They're a threat, to him, to his King, to his friends.

So Gladio does what he's always done best, he charges in with a shout, doing his best to draw the attention of their foes. He's already battered and bleeding from tromping through nests of monsters to find their way here but he's paced himself. This is what he's been doing for years now. When it comes to Bliss he pulls out the power blows.

He charges in, swings his sword, slashing away any vines that would trip him up, circles once, uses the momentum to lift him into the air and bring the blade down in a wide arc straight toward Bliss' face.

[thankgods]

It is, perhaps, the fastest the vines have ever moved. Surging up from the ground in a tidal wave until his blade slashes that wide arc through several feet of them- a sight, most certainly, but accompanied by a soft, almost distracted chuckle at his expense.

"It is... foolish. You... could be happy... you have seen it..."

They will not burn him. It is not their way, to feed his temper, fuel his fears. No. They have already seen you, Gladiolus. You have seen them.

It is tempting, isn't it..? It is human nature, to want what they provide.

Happiness.

[piercetheheart]

He'll find rest and happiness when he's dead. It's what he's destined for.

Lies, it's all lies. Prompto's world was lies and so was everything else Bliss promised. And what would he have seen in that dream? Could he have seen his sister again, one last time?

It didn't matter. What mattered now was killing the thing responsible.

"Too bad it's all bullshit!" He only answers at all to try to draw their attention more firmly to himself, giving the others a chance to do more damage. Still he's doing all he can to keep the vines off him as well, sweeping arcs of Hyperion, slashing down as many vines as he can get to, especially if he sees them going for someone else.

[thisisourfuture]

It's disgusting. Hinata steps smoothly into the open, his axe held low. Despite everything he still wants to try to talk to the god. Looking at this now reminds him horribly of the TigerLily. His own friend, who he really should name, has been gentle. At least as far as predators go. He walks slowly, still carrying with him the threads of what he once was and the despair of letting himself be the destruction of dreams.

He plants himself squarely before that eye, watching it watch him. "Are you actually happy like this? It looks like you're dying."

[thankgods]

"Was it not... better? Hinata..."

You've been here before, haven't you? You've been here. Awoken on sunny shores, surrounded by friends. You've been here. And you very well could have been happy then.

"This time... there is no Despair... to haunt you...

All is well... You can be... happy."

[thisisourfuture]

A cold empty weight settles in his chest and spreads out like a virus through a program. Hinata narrows his eyes. "It would be walking away from everything I stand for." His voice comes out harsher than he'd like it to. A nerve had been tripped. He'd walked dreams and destroyed them with the very despair that Bliss brought up.

Being haunted by despair... "And everything I've done." As much as he is haunted though...he can't say he hasn't found bright spots. His voice is gentler at the end. "I am happy with who I am now and what I've found at home." A place to belong and friends to stand with.

He can hold his head high despite all that had happened. "People can be happy and still feel despair and grief. We're many things. I don't need your dreams. ...and I think you need to stop this while you still can." He has a feeling they can't.

Storyteller has all of his faith these days. They never say what needs done unless they know it has to be. He hefts the axe to his shoulder and sighs. "If you can."

[thermalwind]

[A firebird sweeps in, circling once and screeching to mask the approach of its friend. Keith walks out of the dark as if he was made from it. His face is terrible, his violet eyes dark with rage and his jaw set. He moves lightly as if his joints are liquid. The stride of a trained swordsman moving through enemy territory.

His hand is wrapped tightly about the hilt of his knife. It transforms into the sword in a wash of purple light and he sweeps it out warming up his wrist. He doesn't want to talk. He wants to vent all the agony and rage inside him. Killing the god would fix this situation.

The stench only furthers his rage and his vision starts to narrow down. It's only a question that has howled in him for so long that stays his hand. The bird sweeps about to land on his outstretched arm. His voice comes out harsh and rough with his anger.]

Why, [He sweeps the blade again. Screw up. Give him the wrong answer. He'll cure all their ills.]

did you do it? What purpose did that serve?! [So he can know before his chain snaps.]

[thankgods]

[Keith's rage crackles up against their warm, contented bubble like waves against rock. Their heavy slits for eyes crease and darken as though pained. He's spoiling it - disrupting their lazy euphoria.]

You were...happy...were you not...?

[That is what they made certain of - his happiness. The happiness of all others who entered their domain.]

[thermalwind]

It was fake! [He hisses, the blade coming down but only to be ready to be moved. Likely in a violent manner at this rate.]

It was some lie meant to make me ripe for feeding on. [Like a drug induced high. His rage reaches new heights thinking of every person that had to go into dreams and shatter them. The bird takes flight and he sweeps his free hand out.]

Look at it. Look at what you've done! How many people? How many are now hurting personally because you are forcing them to live a lie?

[crosslaced]

[Through this Mess Laurent is just there, picking his way through the vines with an expression of supreme indifference. ]

You know, there's a state happier than this. Have you tried dying?

[thankgods]

[Let's see how he favors dodging, then.]

[Because they'll come swarming out at him in droves, apparently quite eager to wind their way around his ankles and legs to bind him to the spot, streaming from all angles.]

[The god has nothing to say to him, it seems.]

cw: kinda body horror?

[crosslaced]

I'm serious.

[He doesn't appear to resist as the vines wrap around his calves. But Bliss might feel pinpricks of weirdness within those roots, that turn into pain the longer they hold on- the pain of ice crystals rapidly forming under skin, eventually tearing through the plant matter.

The blonde’s expression is guileless as he unhooks his flare gun from his belt and fires at the god's drooping face.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ They don't like plants. They're starting to like plants even less. Not even Unn was like this, this strangling, choking thing. Not like the other gods they have known, burning like the sun, holding a heart of fire within.

But they are rotting away. Their only strength is the same thing that keeps them sick, like a plague.

They can't help but feel pity; it's the only thing in their heart (as much as they have one). Bliss had tried to give them a dream of a perfect world, but for an empty child like them, what would make that world had been confused and scattered.

Their small nail could cut the vines away, but it would take much more endurance and patience than they have. Much more time, that others don't. Bliss is stealing away others' lives, through their dreams.

They lack the words to speak, so they walk up to the bulb, simply touching it for a moment. They wonder if it would even speak to them at all, or if they could hear its voice.

What had they been like, the Knight wonders. The Storyteller had mentioned that they weren't supposed to get so large. What had they been, then?

Can Bliss read their thoughts? They tilt their head, waiting for any answer. ]

[thankgods]

[They can. Though they cannot see the Knight, so very small at their side, their eye drifts downwards as if to acknowledge them in some, small manner, lips still stretched in a sedate, self-satisfied smile.]

I have... been as I have... always been... Bliss. It is... my nature...

[There is little point in considering what they were. They are, as was always intended. If they had desired to be as they once were, they would have remained so.

They did not.]

You... they... are not all-knowing... foolish...

[savedbyasong]

"Bliss" Shion had survived the journey to this place to find the god they had been sent to destroy. The god that had tried to kill his friends, kill him. Kill them with happiness of all things. A perfect world, a fake perfect world. Shion had been born in a false perfect city and lived their until he had escaped, he had lived in a place where everything was not as it first seemed.

He would always rather know reality. However painful. This god... this god was happiness at the expense of everything. This god had tried to kill Aster. Amazingly though, Shion was calm, the anger was mixed with a lot of sadness. Aster was okay, she was out. He drove his knife into the nearest vine.

"A world with no suffering, no pain, is not real. People can't live like that. Your dreams are false."

He's not got much in the way of physical weapons, but he's hoping that the same tactics that poisoned the dreams would work here as well.

[thankgods]

The use of their name seems to garner little recognition. The curtains of decaying material draped over their face shifts, their muddied, squinted eyes swirling in a lethargic haze until Shion seems to come into their focus.

Even the injured vine, slashed open and weeping pale strips of fibrous matter, only gives a cursory twitch before slinking back into the dense brush like a drunken serpent.

"Reality... is cold... suffering... why endure it... ? Is happiness... not vastly preferable... ?"

[savedbyasong]

It was almost cruel, to destroy something that seemed so... lethargic. Different than going up against something that was all rage and fire, fighting them every step. But this was the god that held Aster in their grasp, in danger. They would die today, Aster would be saved.

The words... reality was cold, there was suffering but it was real. Shion understood, understood the temptation of a perfect world, after all if Rat had not rescued him from No.6 he would have never known suffering, never known reality. What it was like to starve, to struggle. If he had not been kidnapped out of his world he would never known such fear, such horror as clawed itself into his mind whenever he stopped distracting himself. He would not have known hatred, despair, pain.

But he would also have not known love, family, hope. "False happiness is nothing. It has no value, without reality, without suffering then there is no such thing as true happiness."

He stared at Bliss, lethargic and sated with pure happiness, soft and worthless, much like Shion had once been.

"If you never suffer and never endure anything then any happiness is worth nothing, how do you even know it is happiness if you can never feel sadness? How can you know what it is to hope if you have not fallen into despair? In those fantasies you spin people are just... mindless. They cannot make real choices, there is no conflict. They cannot know what it is to love or feel because you are dictating to them only one emotion and it is not true!"