WEEK 5

[killerwaves]

WEEK FIVE

21 Vacationers

The weekend sure was something, wasn't it? Tempers flared, explosions burst, and some were treated to an immersive sand bath experience. Come Monday at least, things seem quieter though not in the unnatural still way—the distortions on the islands have receded sometime in the night (with some impressive firework-like booms that may have stirred your sleep, at that; and the waves seem a little higher this morning) and the various amenities on the island have been made orderly again. Though, as always, some traces remain in the landscape; the waterfall looks like it has seen better days, though it's no longer in danger of coughing up debris on your head if looked at wrong.

This week like the rest brings new locations for you to explore, on Kakapo's Nest though it seems like only one of them really fits the vacation vibe. Hope you like snow!

!

WEATHER ALERT:

Bulletin:
Starting Monday morning and continuing throughout the week, pollen counts will be elevated. This is expected to last until late Thursday

!

TASKS:

Breathe Freely:
Enjoy the great outdoors with a fellow vacationer! It's never too late to appreciate nature.
(REWARD: RARE!)

(( Yes, only one task this week which is memshare with someone else. Have fun!
REMINDER: Task submissions are due Friday by 9 PM EST/6 PM PST. ))

(( OOC: Murder proposals are due by Tuesday at 4 PM EST / 1 PM PST, for the current week's murder, which is the last week of standard murder, week 6 being endgame!!

Also, as always, your admins can be contacted for a chat. ))

MONDAY • TUESDAY • WEDNESDAY • THURSDAY

Locations Proposals PCs Check-in Submissions Profiles Network Main Nav

code

Comments

morb memshare request + containment zone for the entire week

[microtransactions]

open memory options

[ ooc note: a small selection, for your perusal. if tagging in, just note which one you want in the subject header, and whether or not you want magolor to have been physically present beforehand like they were hanging out or something, and i'll set the scene with a starter! feel free to jump in even if we haven't discussed anything, just note any cws and anything else i need to know in your initial reply. most of these will probably be in second person non-interactive, but there's one memory or two i will do as a sort of limited interactable second-person choose your own adventure instead for uh, fun thematic reasons. don't worry about it?

if you've already contacted me in private to discuss something specific or ask me to yeet at you whatever, feel free to tag in here without specifying a scene and i'll set it up (or, if you prefer, swing by my pc catchalls if you/your character would rather that)! for those people i will probably give you a memory NOT in this list. but again please do tell me whether you want magolor there or not. 👍

oh yeah, and the links are just music tracks rather than memory videos or anything. feel free to put them on as vibe music or something. ★ ]

four buddies and the wayfarer - this is more going to be a sort of montage and collection of various interactions with a couple of other characters rather than a single continuous memory. a slow building friendship, close saves here and there, assistance in rebuilding his crashed ship, magolor exposition dumping, that's all here.

let me explain everything - a plan long in the making come to fruition. ... you don't have any regrets about the whole thing, do you? oh well. too late for that now.

C R O W N E D - limited-interactable. hey, why does magolor dislike the crown so much anyway? sure knows a lot about it, huh? potential cws: body horror (eyes where eyes shouldn't), mental manipulation/dissociation/unrealization/the usual mental variety pack for possession, you know.

mistilteinn, tree crown without a ruler - is this what it really was, in the end? the one eyed wreath grants power, but swallows the soul. mistletoe's a parasite, remember? now featuring biblically accurate trees, Significant Apples, and a room called Eden. also, the fall of a civilization, maybe? and, if we dare to hope, a way home?

castle village - another world, another place ... familiar faces. some people just really don't change, no matter where or when it is, do they...?

Four Buddies

[butcherspice]

[make it as wholesome as possible. Make this edgy old man ill.]

[microtransactions]

[ the story goes something like this:

you've been alone for a very long time, and that's fine. it's taught you that you have to rely on yourself, that's all.

your ship needs fixing. there's so much work to be done. ah, your poor lor ... if you had the choice, you would've done things in a way that didn't end with her becoming such a wreck. regardless, regardless. there's nothing to be done for it now but work to fix it. it wouldn't do to look like you were slacking. after all, they're doing all the hard work, so kindly and generously adventuring and retrieving all the energy cores and parts of your ship from the far corners of the world where they'd scattered, even when you're a complete stranger to them. you have to have progress to show them for when they get back. there's a room you were thinking about renovating, when you had a chance, when you have the parts, to provide a bit of a distraction during moments of downtime...

you blink your eyes open, and don't remember having closed them. you especially don't remember having been moved somewhere more comfortable, a simple blue blanket with a star pattern falling off of you as you shift. you think you've seen it before. it belongs to one of them, doesn't it?

huh?

or perhaps, if you turn a few old, dusty, yellowing pages, something like this:

you've gotten pretty used to the sound of the lor's doors activating now and the familiar sets of footsteps that follow, so you don't even need to look up before calling out a cheery,

"welcome back! everything going okay?"

you expect they're just here to return their latest haul of energy spheres before going back to doing whatever it is the four of them do when left to their own devices (there's at least some stories that have reached even you, though, out in the remote depths of space, some more outlandish and unbelievable than the others); any of the larger parts radiate enough energy that you suspect they've attracted bigger problems to them, the way the smaller spheres still lure sphere doomers looking for a tasty snack.

you're not wrong, per se, but also, what's with the entire picnic spread? there's a perfectly good field right outside? wait, you too? but you're...

is everyone here just like this? is this place really just that peaceful and idyllic? is everyone really so friendly?

(would it be that bad of an idea to maybe stay here, more than the brief stop and stepping stone you'd meant for it to be?)

let's skip a few chapters—

"but i'm so glad to have met someone as kind as you, Kirby!
i just can't say it enough, Kirby. it's been such a pleasure meeting you.
you're such a stand-up dude. i'm honored to call you my friend."

it's another beautiful day, and you, surprisingly enough, are as done as you can be in regards to working on your ship for now. there's nothing more you can do until more of your ship's parts are retrieved, so perhaps you can step out and check in on the ones who've decided to help you (friends? really?). you can bring them things, like snacks, or a potion you've brewed to help with stamina and energy— little things, to help them out in helping you. that's fair, right?

they said they'd be in this area today, so you know that if you just follow the signs and sounds of any possible commotions, you'll find them sooner rather than later. part of you recognizes when they come into view, taking in the current situation before you actually realize it. before you realize it consciously you're moving, opening a rift just in time to reappear on the other end and grab their hand, hauling them back up from what would have been a long, steep drop otherwise.

honestly, you decide to leave your ship just this once, and this is what you see... are they always this careless? like you don't have enough things to worry about already!

"one last thing. there's something i want to ask you.
why did you decide to help me? i mean, i was a complete stranger to you at the time, right?
what is it, Kirby? why are you making that face? is it really that silly of a question?
hm. i suppose if someone else was in trouble, i'd help them out too...
i mean, if YOU were in trouble somehow, i'd be the first one to come help you out!
...
can you guess why? it's because we're friends!
let's keep on being great friends to each other, Kirby... okay?"

... so the story goes.

so the story keeps going, on and on, weaving itself together from countless more small moments such as these, until a conclusion its author hadn't expected to write knits itself into being, somewhere beyond the reach of these glimpses of memory. ]

[butcherspice]

[So it goes, the charming story of five little creatures becoming friends, full of warm fuzzy feelings and newly inspired loyalty.

...where the fuck did this come from? Not his head, that's for sure! He looks at Magolor with mild confusion for a moment. It's weird to be feeling even the residuals of concern for another person--not that he's never had it, but he won't openly admit that.

Though 'person' is a bit...]

Was that a fuckin' penguin?

[microtransactions]

Oh, you recognize the species? Huh! Color me surprised.

Guess some things are familiar even way out somewhere else in the universe. I suppose you could say there's truly some interesting things out there, couldn't you?

[ is magolor laying it on a little thick today? hmm! ]

CROWNED

[hearnoplague]

[ Kallamar said that was the wrong crown! But let's subject him to this anyway since he missed last week's trial! ]

cw: possession/dissociation mental grab bag

[microtransactions]

[ you open your eyes. (part of you is surprised you did?)

everything is ... hazy. dreamlike and distant, rather. disconnected. a perspective that feels strange, somehow. you observe and take in your surroundings with a dissonant unquiet in your being, seeing without really seeing. the ground is a glimmering pale blue, insubstantial and ethereal. your surroundings are awash in light. you yet feel surrounded by darkness regardless.

there's a pain singing through you that doesn't feel like it belongs to you. (it hurts this isn't right it hurts) it, too, is faraway. these wings are yours. this crown is yours. these thorns are yours. this pain is yours. these shackles are yours.

there are four beings before and below you, where they belong, though they seem not to have made any move yet.

> what do you do? ]

[hearnoplague]

[ Where... Was he?

For a moment, he wondered if he had gotten stuck in one of his own memories again, but none of these creatures below him looked familiar. And since when did he ever have wings...? ]

Begone... Beasts... [ No, where are his weapons? Is he even armed? Surely some ritual must have granted him some extra strength to fight them. Defend himself from them. If he is trapped here, if this pain is his prison, then these four must surely be here to send him to death.

It's too late to beg. He has no choice, does he? ]

Ggh! You... You four shall learn your place! Heed my warning and stay away!

[ Is he able to summon anything? The jumping attack crabs of Anchordeep are the first things that comes to mind, followed closely by the exploding jellyfish. Is that what comes to attack the four? ]

cw: general mindfuckery cont, vague body horror

[microtransactions]

[ you open your mouth to speak—

and your perspective opens up. it's not all so hazy, now. (wait) all of a sudden the world rushes in with a terrifying clarity. that's right. that's better. you have two eyes, unnecessary things that they are, and a mouth to see with. the world becomes clear. (this isn't right)

you open your mouth your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. no words, no pleads, no warnings, and certainly no threats. you are not armed. you have no weapons. you don't need them. you possess a power greater than what they could offer. as you gaze down at the creatures, your understanding of the situation slowly slots back into place, one facet at a time.

these four are in your way. they sought to stop you here, at the culmination of your ambitions. they are enemies (wait), and they will surely move to attack you if you do not strike them down first.

you call for your servants to come hasten to your aid. none will answer. they don't exist here.

a clap of your hands sends out a wave that leaves them reeling, scrambling to prepare a defense. another short gesture, and a void tears open, drawing them towards it and keeping them from fleeing or attacking you... for now.

> what will you do? ]

cw: panic attack

[hearnoplague]

[ What the?! Has he gone completely deaf? Why isn't he hearing anything he says?

Why is nothing working like it should?!?

Panic rises again. If he has enough power here, shouldn't he be able to cast offensive spells of some sort? Like a torrent of fireballs cast upon them?

Why is he getting conflicting feelings about these threats? He knows they will surely kill him, he knows full well he must strike them down.

Why does a part of him feel terrible for this?

More importantly, why would he ever need his mouth to see? He has two functional eyes, and if he ever lost those too for some damnable reason the crown should make up for his sight as it has been making up for his hearing--

But what is this power he weilds? He should be casting a violent plague upon these fools, not voids! What is going on?! ]

mistilteinn, tree crown [that has lost] its ruler (aka dante's- i mean magolor's inferno)

[microtransactions]

[ set the stage. you stand above an ethereal altar in a room called eden, in a place not within time, not within space. twisted reaches of the dimensional crossroads stretch out in all directions. here is in between and nowhere at all, and so far away from anywhere else, anywhere anyone's ever been.

an apple at the altar. pristine and resplendent, but for the few moments it is complete— before the shattered fragments of something else claim its form. the resultant struggle with the creature temporarily birthed by this ends up destroying the altar, but it all goes by in a flash.

what's more important is that once the creature is defeated, darkness coalesces upon the apple (until 7:40 only if you let it play), and space begins to warp. the world goes white.

the fruit sprouts. grows roots. grows wings. the apple tree descends from the heavens, poisonous mistletoe ensnaring it from root to haloed crown.

when vision returns, the world has shifted. gone is the dizzying, twisted space from before; seared into reality now is the image of a city in flames, light streaming down from above. the sky is falling. the world is ending. the one-eyed wreath declares its judgment.

on the altar, a battle takes place. a much smaller creature dodges around the remnants of the ruined altar, wearing a worn cloak reminiscent of what a certain someone at the resort dons, if in much poorer condition.

another magolor, this one more familiar, sits perched on nothing in particular, somewhere overlooking the destruction not far from you. rather than pay attention to a battle he's already lived once, he seems to be more engrossed in taking in the sights surrounding of a city crumbling apart, the points of his hood where his ears are hidden laying flat.

around them, as backdrop, the memory of a lost civilization takes its last breaths.

> have a chat? ]

finally gets to this

[immortalpoet]

[what the fuckity fuck]






[Anyways, wouldn't that be funny if that was the tag! Regardless, Vergilius. Blinks. Trying to understand all of this. The symbolism sings with a poet's heart, but it doesn't mean that he actually comprehends what is happening.]


Is that....you, Magolor?

[microtransactions]

[ magolor blinks over at him, gaze faraway and with no real sense of recognition in his eyes, but does respond easily enough: ]

Hm? Is that me down there, you mean?

[immortalpoet]

Well, you and...that you, I suppose, yes. Unless your kind are clones of one another.

[microtransactions]

No, no, nothing like that. I think ... we're just watching. When this happened, I definitely wasn't split in two, or anything like that.

And I'm pretty one of a kind, hee hee. But yes, it's me.

[ despite his word choice seeming like normal, his demeanor is pretty sedate.

he seems unconcerned with the struggle playing out, but his ears are still pinned flat. ]

[immortalpoet]

...

[He's idly watching, red eyes flitting between the two combatants.]

What....are you doing? Fighting a tree?

[microtransactions]

Less the tree, more what made it. I mean, that was an apple a moment ago. Plants don't grow that fast, normally, even if they're magic.

[ he'll gesture, a bit, meaning to indicate the choking gold entwined from root to crown. ]

Mistletoe's poisonous and parasitic, you know. And that grew from what was left of something that was pretty bad news.

It all looks pretty wild from here, I know! It happened pretty fast for me too. I didn't have much chance to really take in what was happening in the background when it did.

[ not like he is now, looking around at the landscape like he recognizes it. ]

[immortalpoet]

So you're saying you were facing off against some kind of plant parasite? What an interesting life you lead for just a simple average traveler of the stars.

[Yes, he's sarcastic.]

What happened after this? Did you win?

[microtransactions]

That's me. Just a humble wayfarer of the stars...

[ at the question though, he blinks slowly at vergilius. in the background, as the factories and spires have now well and truly been razed, the traveler does his best to fight back against the tree.

and it seems to be working. ]

I won, yeah. Don't think I'd be here before you if I didn't. I just didn't get what I was looking for.