December Event: No Rest for the Wicked

[lifeaftr_mods]

DECEMBER EVENT: NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Who: Anyone and everyone
What: Your trials by fire
When: December 15th - 18th
Where: On Maati and Ensō
Warnings: Character deaths and violence are both likely - please mark as you go!

The Trials: Only Then Can We Begin

As noted in the OOC info post, your Trials will all begin on December 15th. As many of you will not be deposited into your trials with food and water (or any items of your own at all, in most cases), the Trials will last only as long as December 18th. If you've failed to complete your Trial by this deadline but have not used up all the deaths allotted to you, you will awaken by Maati's mana pool at the event's conclusion. If you have not failed your Trial by using up all your deaths, this will not count as a character death, and you will not need to submit for a penalty; you simply won't be able to obtain the reward you would get if you had succeeded! When your character wakes in their allotted Trial, they will discover that their starting chamber has been inscribed with the name of the Trial, the names of those participating, and the number of deaths they have remaining - though the latter aren't labeled in any way. You'll simply have to learn it the hard way; every time your character suffers a death, the number will go down by one. If it wasn't obvious what those numbers stood for at first, by the time the dying starts properly, it certainly will be. And you probably don't want to see it go all the way down to zero...

Should you reach the end of your Trial, you will step out onto the rocky cliffs of Maati, exiting from one of the seven doors set into the cliffs at the seven points of the island's star shape. You see, those doors you discovered earlier weren't the entrances to the Trials at all. They were the exits. And set into the towering cliffs...why, those house the winding mazes that comprise the Trials themselves.

There will be a top-level below for each Trial. Remember to plan with your groups and communicate with your thread partners! Whether you choose to do mingle-style threads or lengthier group threads is up to you.

Once you know the outcome of your Trial, success OR failure, please do let us know so that we can ensure your character gets the reward that befits their triumph...or lackthereof.

Remember also to let us know if your character uses up ALL their deaths during this event. While death penalties will not be inflicted during Trial deaths, if you use up all the deaths allotted to you and die for real, your death penalty will NOT be reduced.

The Water: Don't Let Them Get Away

The rest of you have plenty to contend with as well, of course. If you've opted out of this month's event, be advise that the waters creeping across shores of Ensō, along with the rest of the island, aren't going to take evasion kindly. They'll seek you out, spread along every inch of the island if they can, until they can find you. There is a top-level below, if you're intrigued! Though if you end up top-leveling yourself, we may very well reach out and find you anyway...

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] December 15th: The Trials on Maati begin, and the water begins to rise.
[ ♆ ] December 18th: The Trials reach their end.
[ ♆ ] December 19th: Those who have "perma"-died in their Trials are revived.
[ ♆ ] December 20th: The monthly Storytelling occurs.

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[lightlessfuture]

[ Rain pounds relentlessly against the window. Outside, only darkness.

They have seen this before in their long journey. The sick and the dying; someone else's grief, rendering them mute.

So they sit by the Guardian's side, and tilt their head up inquisitively.

They listen, even if it's only to the rain right now.

What else can they do? ]

[smallkindness]

[The Guardian turns slightly to look at the small child who has taken a seat beside them. Their partner holds their child close but both of their eyes are on the Knight rather then the Guardian.

They are not 'here'. They did not arrive back home in time to see them pass on.

The pink-clad drifter remains silent even in the face of the Vessel's unasked question. It is not as though they are refusing to speak of it however, as they have not asked the Knight to leave.

In their grief, in their loss, how do they begin to speak of what has come to pass? The Guardian had shared their story with the Drifter as so those memories of warmth would not die with them.

But now...how could they begin?

(Outside the darkness is breathing.

Outside the darkness is moving.)]

[lightlessfuture]

[ This isn't their memory, but maybe something can be done, all the same.

They ignore the darkness for now. (It breathes, it moves; something lurking at the window, creeping close.

If this is the same illness that plagues the Drifter, then they have some idea about what that lingering darkness is.)

Instead of sitting there and waiting, they decide on something more proactive. They climb onto the bed, careful not to disturb anything, and crawl a little bit until they can find a small corner of pillow to sit on.

It's not their memory, so the room responds to them as if they were really there. They carefully find the child's hand and clasp it in both of theirs, silent as always, and wait.

(They look like a toy, sitting there. Some token of affection, given as a gift in some happier time.) ]

[smallkindness]

[The Knight's actions do not help the Guardian forget what will come of this event, this test. They already know how this memory will end.

But they do smile a little when they see the Knight take their child's hand to offer some form of comfort. Not a shield against the oncoming storm but someone to weather it with them together.

The child holds on tightly as they cough more blood, as their parent grows more and more cold. The Guardian bows their head and then finally, finally, speaks.]

A memory...my family.

[It is not enough of an explanation to pass. But it is a start.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ Against sickness, there is no defense. A formless enemy, an isolating struggle; it's not something they really know how to deal with. They prefer to act; they prefer something they can fight (they are like the Drifter, in that way), but...

They pat the child's forehead, adjust the blanket a little more to give them some comfort. Hold their hand, for what good that will do.

They've rarely felt so helpless, but this is the Guardian's family, so for them it must be worse. So they sit, and turn their head a little, to show they're listening. ]

[smallkindness]

[No, there is no defense. The only thing that could be done was to follow the Jackal. Find the modules, defeat the Immortal Cell.

But now...the Guardian had passed on their final offer of help to the Drifter. They are not bitter they died. As the days passed, they could feel Judgement creeping closer and closer. Truly, the only thing they feel is confusion to be resurrected as they were on this island.

It is very clear from the way they bow their head and fall silent yet again, that they find this topic difficult. They normally do not speak of their personal feelings, never mind digging this deep within the scars upon their heart that will not heal. When their child's spirit appeared on the shores of Lifeaftr, they focused on others.

They did not wish to speak of it. They do not want to see this again, even if the Guardian ever dared to wish to see their family.

(Something shifts in the darkness outside, a streak of sickly purple. As the Guardian does not speak something is coming closer.

It is at the front door. The smell of blood and rot is beginning to seep into the house.)

The Guardian coughs. They can taste iron and bile in the back of their throat.

(Something must give. The Guardian's silence or the memory will become contaminated by the sickness that took their family away.)]

[lightlessfuture]

[ They turn their head to watch that looming, shifting darkness. It reminds them of something similar, something the Guardian had been lucky enough to miss; flowers born from unspoken words.

It isn't the same, but it's similar enough that they feel...reminded. The darkness hadn't come closer, that cough hadn't started, until the person this room belongs to had stopped speaking, feeling unable to.

They let go and shuffle off the bed, taking the Guardian's hand and patting it gently. Attempting to coax them to speak in the only way they really know, through comfort.

Though there's a bit of urgency in those gestures, too. ]

...and that too.

[smallkindness]

[As the Guardian's silence drags on the room becomes darker, smaller. It is being consumed by something that did nothing but take and take and take. The Immortal Cell took the lives of their family and eventually their own, was dragging the Drifter under the poisonous water.

A drifter does not give into anger so easily but the Guardian could not deny it made them angry. This trial as well. They understand the point of it.

That does not mean they wished for this memory dragged out of their mind and used when they did not wish to speak of it.]

I only told one person. [On their deathbed, the Guardian wished to pass on the memory of a tiny family. That was all they wanted to leave behind.] I do not wish to speak of it now.

[Their shadow stretches and the air reeks of rot and familiar sickness. A clicking noise fills the silence that the Guardian is reluctant to speak in, the sound of pincers not unlike some of the bugs the Knight has met.

But they reach up and rest their hand on their partner's, even if they are a ghost to the Guardian. Even if this memory was not theirs to interact with, they...

They want to. A drifter does what must be done.]

...my family. They died from the Immortal Cell's sickness. They are...why I became a drifter.

[The Guardian's sickness was not their motivation to follow the Jackal's holy visions. They just...did not want others to suffer.

That was all they wanted. To guard the future of others even if they themself could not be saved.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ They understand that. The events of the past year have dragged many things out of them; not all of them are things they really understood, or wanted to ever think about. But still, they are here; the secrets and wounds of their past, dragged out into the open for all to see.

They look up at that clicking, that looming shadow. They don't fear darkness, but they know the silhouette of illness, of a monster that

cannot be fought.

They clasp the memory of a child's hand, watching the Guardian anxiously; they are the only one who can stop it, in the end.

What are they supposed to say? What can they say? Should they try to make themselves invisible as possible, like before? Would the Guardian appreciate their sympathy?

But...

They remember. Broken masks and wayward spirits and chained, lonely siblings. ]

losing family is hard

i am sorry

[smallkindness]

[The shadow of the Immortal Cell shrinks a little, drawing its shape back into the Guardian's true shadow. There is no feelings of resentment that the drifter was able to speak of their pain, no amusement nor anything involving human emotion.

It was sickness. It took and took without feeling a single thing. Death was an inevitably and it was not something that the Guardian could fight against and they had accepted that.

But not like this. Not in the way that their child and partner suffered a slow death. Not in the way that the Guardian had arrived hope too late with flowers in hand. They did not even get a chance to say good-bye.

The Guardian does not respond to the Knight's words for a moment but they are smiling a little even if the Vessel cannot see it.]

It is. There are...things I have forgotten of them. I do not want their memories to die.

[They told the Drifter of the family that they lost and only that on their deathbed. The Guardian did not mind if they personally would no longer be remembered in the world. Leaving behind the memory of who they loved was enough.

This memory is one that the Knight can touch and the child is growing cold, their breathing slowing. The Guardian rests their forehead against the edge of the bed, still trying to hold the hand of their partner as they close their eyes for the last time.

There is only one way this memory will end and everyone here should know what that ending is.]

...thank you. For loving someone like me.

[It will not make the pain go away. Not completely and not for a long time.

But to say that, at least...was something they always wished they had a chance to say.]