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

[pallidscops]

[ Otus blinks, looking around-- that...voice? He'd never heard the Knight speak verbally, and...he never really needed to. Content to respect and appreciate his small friend however the Knight wanted to be. If...he wanted to speak? He absolutely could. Otus cracks a smile and scoots closer to his friend, legs dangling off the bench.

To be completely honest, Otus has never known what his own voice sounded like, either, so Knight's voice is not as peculiar to his ears as one might think.

The owl looks around. It's dark...what is this place? ]

[lightlessfuture]

[ The Knight studies Otus' face, reads the confusion in his movements. They look around, too, at the familiar darkness, and gesture encompassingly. ]

Home. Born.

[ There's a hint of authority in those soft murmurs; the voice of someone they have only heard in dreams. No cost too great.

Where there was an endless plane of darkness, there's now masks upon masks. All broken, all cracked. Different shapes, but the same size.

They make another gesture at the great egg, at the broken masks underfoot. Their head droops in apparent sadness. ]

Family.