Something in the air...

[polymods]

✖ The Isle That Blooms

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
This is the first isle you can smell before you see it rising on the island. It starts with the faint hint of growing things that blossoms into a floral scent that teases you with the combination of familiarity and the unknown. The next breeze seems to carry you closer even as it coats everything in a delicate wash of golden pollen that only the Ferryman seems to be able to avoid.

Do you like your lips to taste the gritty sweetness? Or are you already starting to sniffle? Either way, the island starts as a smudge then turns into a riot of color as it reveals itself.

The Isle that Blooms lives up to its name as flowers vie in a silent war of roots and strangling vines to cover every viable surface with sprays of color and vibrant pulsing life. There are signs of human life in the form of a village built on stilts and full of little anachronisms like a glowing neon sign that hint that the island sees a large number of Travelers come through this place.

And who wouldn’t be drawn to the abundant flora, brightly painted houses, and lively locals?

Everyone seems to be glowing with health as the locals gather near the dock to welcome the latest set of tourists. They come with arms full of flower wreaths and friendly smiles, clearly in control of their faculties and interested in trade. Their clothing is as bright as the paintings on their buildings, as the flowers that surround them, and perfect for the warmth of the day.

Do you notice, though, the absence of any babies or prepubescent children? Or that while there are old people, no one shows signs of the infirmities that come with age? It might be easy to miss, especially as the Isle starts to affect you, too.

The ache in your back from that terrible fall, the craving for that next drink, the trauma that’s too close to the surface, all the petty hurts the build up in a lifetime start to fade as you, too, start to bloom.

Notes:
1. NO GUNS are allowed on this island. The Ferryman will keep them safe for you.

2. These residents of the island are normal humans. Killing them is possible and may affect the color of your Scrywatch.

3. Any type of flower could exist on the island, blooming somewhere, regardless of its real world requirements. Rare ones are difficult to find and magical ones need a check in with the mods.

4. There is nothing preadolescent of any animal species on the entire island, including insects.

5. The island’s ability leaves people as the healthiest, most energetic version of their current selves. Examples: A blind person in otherwise good mental and emotional health would notice minimal changes. A person with a disorder would find themselves having a string of good days. A 50 year old probably hasn’t felt this good since their thirties.

---

Ⅱ. THE TEMPLE
Orchids in shades of yellow and pink so bright they glow have been trained to grow along the walkways and bridges of the elevated village to guide Travelers to this island’s Temple. The building stands alone at the edge of the Village, extending out in the ocean of flowers that fill most of the isle.


The temple is made of simple stout wood that has been carved and painted in patterns ornate and lovely in a way that speaks of hundreds of hours of creation and maintenance. The same orchids that guided you here gild building and act as camouflage the sleeping porches ring the outside. They are kept private and safe from insects by fine netting, and you will find the bedding soft and fine.

This Temple’s Guardians are a pair of lazing cats with strange spots and scaly wings that regard you with affectionate disinterest as you explore the facilities. There are toilets and sinks, but no baths or showers. The pantries are stocked with edible flowers and fresh fish and the space and tools to cook. If you are brave enough, the Guardians will probably give you practical advice on how to use those supplies. There are new clothes and sandals better suited to the heat, and even practical machetes.

Notes:
1. The Main Temple is still open to those who are brand new to PM.

2. There are paints and carving tools if you want to add to the temple decorations. (Maybe mention it during the Oracle Event if you do.)

3. All fabric items are ridiculously bright and vaguely tie dyed.

4. The marker orchids have a distinctly strong smell of vanilla with a hint of lime.

---

Ⅲ. THE LOTUS BATHS
CW: fantasy setting drugs.
There’s only so long a person can stand to be covered in pollen, and when you ask the locals, they grin. Oh, you want a bath? There’s a path back to the ground and through the tall flowers to a natural spring. Make sure to head out early, they warn.

It’s always better to be in the village before nightfall, and you are clearly going to take a while.

As you walk the winding path to the baths, the everpresent flowers seem to thin out and even disappear as ground warms and rock rises from rich soil. You can smell the mineral richness of the bright blue pools that form waterfalls over a series of rising ledges. There is life, though, even here, in the form of delicate lily pads that float in rafts around vivid lotus flowers.

If you test the water, you’ll find it’s warm enough to melt the knots out of muscles and make it easy to understand why the few bathers seem to be so languid and relaxed. If you sink all the way in, well, not only will you manage to get clean, but you might find yourself mellowing out even more. So mellow you’ll hardly notice when the pleasant hallucinations start.

You’ll find yourself drawn into visions of your most private joys and of the pleasures you keep to yourself. Maybe it’s a matter of shame or maybe it’s because they’re too precious. There’s one small problem, though. If someone else gets in the same pool, not only will they start to share the same vision, but you’ll start to see theirs too.

Will the fantasies become a nightmare or will you manage to navigate them together? Will you ever be able to look at each other the same way again?

Notes:
1. The hallucinations will end when you leave the water, but only once you and your bathing partner are both out.

2. The flowers are magical and will affect everyone, even robots or super powered people.

---

Ⅳ. NIGHTBLOOMING
CW: abduction, violence.
You are warned to stay in the elevated village at night. The flower fields are safe enough during the day, but things happen at night. It’s hard to imagine during the day when stingless bees that glitter in jewel colors bumble along and hummingbirds the size of chihuahuas feed from the abundant flowers while squeaking their strong opinions at each other.

But as the moon rises, and most of the flowers close, there’s rustling sounds that make it clear that there are big things moving through that growth. Things that make the hair rise up on the back of a person’s neck. It would take a big prize to make it worth finding out what makes those sounds. A big prize or a reason to face your fears.

There’s a scream in the night. You can ignore it, of course. Not everyone is meant to run towards the scream. It might not even change the color of your ScryWatch.

But if you go to the source of the sound you’ll find a mother weeping openly while other locals gather around to comfort her. It seems her teenager decided that the best way to woo their lover was with glowing flowers that only open under a full moon. The teen has been gone for hours, and the grim expressions on the people around you say his chances aren’t good.

You have a choice to make. Will you go into the dark to face the unknown dangers? Will you offer some other form of comfort? Or will you go back to hide in the safety of the Temple?

Notes:
1. The danger in the flowers consists of six foot tall nocturnal orchid mantises who have the teen pinned in a tree. They are currently singing a human language lullaby to the kid to get them to go to sleep and fall out of the tree.

2. The mantises have a hive mind and will retreat if one of their number is killed, but can also be talked to and negotiated with. They will be willing to trade a regular supply of fish for no longer hunting people.

---

Ⅴ. SPECIAL EVENT: THE FLOWER ORACLE
In the center of the village, there is a giant flower bud that is bigger than a man is tall. The villagers tell you that you are lucky. You will be here when the Flower Oracle blooms. You will have a chance to speak directly to the Ancient One through the Oracle, and She even answers. All it takes is a little sacrifice.

Notes:
1. During the week of July 12-18, there will be a special event post where characters can choose to interact with the Flower Oracle for a chance to be rewarded, get an answer, get silence, or get punished by the Ancient.

2. Any starter posted during this window will be honored, specifics to come.

3. This event is optional!

Bonus: music to watch the flowers bloom to.

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

Harrowhark Nonagesimus | The Locked Tomb

[necrosaint]

I. ARRIVAL
This ... is different.

There's something about the Isle that Blooms that clears things up in people. For some, perhaps it's a gift. For Harrow, a clearer head, a lack of hallucinations, that—should be a gift, but it frightens her. This isn't a life she knows how to live, and the surety that everything is real is making her quaver on the inside. Her attempts to hide it just make her seem more of a mess, because her confidence is excessive and feels almost like an artificial mask.

Along with the face paint she's still wearing, which as she breathes in the scents and tries not to think disgusting things toward the Seventh House as her white becomes more pink, purple and yellow. It looks colorful and ridiculous, and even as a childlike, indulgent part of Harrow likes the flowers—as she walks about the island she touches fingertips to them occasionally—she is wearing that perpetual face of distaste over the coloring ...

... that is, until she comes up with a plan and begins to collect petals, instead. She's on to something here about the face paint problem. She's even seen talking to a native, being polite and questioning, and seems satisfied (if still rather shaky) as she departs the conversation.

II. LOTUS BATHS
It's not that Harrow has issues with nudity. She doesn't. It's that she has issues with the idea of anyone seeing her face unpainted, and that's why she's been avoiding the baths, for all that the idea of a bath is one that seems grand enough to her. A good soak is a holy experience, after all.

But she tries so hard to find the baths empty. She meant for it to be empty. When she walks in, the baths are empty; when she settles in and lets her stretched-out muscles warm, there's soon someone else with her. The Body runs a hand through her hair and comforts her, tells her she's glad to see her again. Holds Harrow's head to her heart—she's never done this before—and reassures her it's all okay now.

Whatever that means. Whatever it has ever meant, it is absolution. Harrow is used to hallucinations and she does not care one iota if the baths turning into the Locked Tomb is weird or if this is what it's supposed to look like. She doesn't care about the chains still around the Body's wrists. She cares only that the dark-haired, golden-eyed woman is providing her a comfort, and that she is telling her that she is doing things right.

It is almost as good as calling Harrow beloved in return. It is good to see her. She even starts to tell her she's found Gideon again, and is enraptured, stupid smile on her face, when the Body seems nothing but pleased that Harrow has her cavalier.

Someone else entering this hallucination may turn out to be extremely weird, but it's probably not the worst one out there. It's remarkably peaceful for Harrow.

III. NIGHT BLOOMING
Hearing screams is nothing to Harrowhark, even if her mental state and grip on reality seem a bit sharper on this island.

She hears screams whenever she sleeps, and so while she stirs, it's the stirring of night terrors. The quiet cries of unclear invocation that come from her lips, almost inaudible, are coming from a Harrow still yet unconscious. There's a little bit of thrashing, and there are names audible—"Gideon" and "Tridentarius"—but Harrow doesn't seem to rouse.

(Her nose begins to bleed, and she is still not waking up.)

IV. WILDCARD
hi! did we have a thread before that is too old and you don't want to continue it, you want to do more with that cr but don't want to do any of these, you have another idea, etc? hit me up @ alexipharmaca or just surprise me!

III Night Blooming

[necrosavior]

Gideon wakes at the first scream she hears. This place doesn't remind her of the old, dead and dying places associated with dear old dad the Necrolord Prime. She reaches for a sword she doesn't have and settles for the utility knife from the temple's supplies. It's a toothpick but still a step up from nails. The scream comes again, so that's that.

Harrow is right next to her. Gideon considers letting her sleep, but as she moves away, Harrow latches on. Those thin bony arms make a tight grip. Gideon imagines flipping Harrow's body over her back and running with the pride and joy of the Ninth House as a cape floating behind her. For funsies, yes. For running into potential living nightmares, not so much. "Wake up or let go," Gideon sits up and shakes Harrow. "Up and at 'em. You like the crack of dawn. Well this is the crack of the crack of the crack of dawn."

[necrosaint]

"Wait," Harrow cries, and she's still asleep as she does so, skeletal fingers—figuratively, Harrow's, and literally, growing out of Harrow's bracelet—grasping Gideon's arm and then retreating as the shaking has the desired effect. "Don't—oh."

She's awake. She's awake and looking confused, wiping blood from under her nose, and there's the scream again. Her head whips toward it. This is wrong; she isn't hallucinating here.

"Is wake up and don't let go an option," hesitantly.

[necrosavior]

Gideon squints at the blood, but it's not horribly concerning. Not haul Harrow off to someone(?) or the temple(?) or something. "You okay?" Gideon still asks, but she's already turning back toward the screams. Away from the village and (as ever on this place) through the flowers.

"So long as you keep up with me," Gideon says. She looks at Harrow again. "I could carry you. At least until there's something to fight or a person to pull up a cliff or whatever the fuck is going on. Which, really, I shouldn't be surprised. Nowhere's as good as it seems." Even in the afterlife, things can go to shit.

[necrosaint]

Harrow sighs, rolls her shoulders back, and lets go. "You do not have to carry me, I can walk." She isn't weak or fragile to the extent that Nav always wants to think she is. She is a very good necromancer, thank you very much.

"And yes, I am fine, just—pavor nocturnus. Where are we going?"

It still hasn't occurred to her that the screams bothered Gideon, too.

[necrosavior]

Gideon rolls her eye in frustration. Whatever she asks or offers, Harrow does the opposite. "You asked," she sighs. Not worth focusing on.

The machete's the best Gideon has, so the machete comes with. She lifts the pack and wears it where she'd offered Harrow first dibs. "Toward the screaming," Gideon says, "It's outside the village. Outside the place they told us we should sleep. Someone, not me for once, is not following directions. And it sounds bad. That's the sound of bad things happening." Soon they'll happen to someone else.

"No one gets to be eviscerated this time."

I. arrival

[unkindled_madness]

Sephiroth can tell that she's behaving a bit off, but he doesn't recognize the extent of her discomfort, nor is he interested in prying. Maybe she's allergic to flowers. It's none of his concern.

However, when he sees her talking to the locals, that piques his interest. There are questions he ought to be asking them, he knows, but they're so... friendly. He hasn't been eager to start that process, focusing instead on exploration. But if Harrowhark has already spoken to them... She's been quite forthcoming with information. He approaches after she seems to have finished her conversation.

"Did you learn anything useful?"

[necrosaint]

"Define useful," she says, and then shakes her head, dismissing her own comment. "I learned something useful for me, regarding my face paint. I am not certain how well that may help you, though I would certainly be able to paint yours as well should you like."

The comment is teasing, but it's Harrow and she does it all wrong; she sounds flatly serious.

"However, I did also learn they do not sell two-hander swords anywhere here. If that suits your interests. And that I cannot replace this monstrosity," right, because the narrative forgot to mention she's wearing a pink tie-dye dress, "With something black."

[unkindled_madness]

Sephiroth should probably be better equipped to recognize a deadpan delivery considering that's how he tells most of his jokes, but he's momentarily taken aback. Facepaint...? Hell, maybe she considers that a normal thing to offer.

"No, thank you," he says, the response dry.

"Why are you looking for swords?" She did indicate she was poor at combat herself. "And... why are you wearing that?"

[necrosaint]

"It's ... what I ended up wearing." Scowl. Very, very unhappy Harrow. "And it looks atrocious, I know. I would like my blacks back, and my proper robe. Even a First House robe, which is white, would be fine—"

Ah, right.

Why she's asking about swords.

Awkward. Harrow chews at her lip a little and says quietly, "For my cavalier."

[unkindled_madness]

"What was wrong with your clothes from Carcosa?"

Sephiroth, not everyone can wear a black leather outfit in hot weather and be fine, apparently.

"...your cavalier. They arrived with the new Travellers?"

II. Lotus Baths

[neverwither]

The person already in the baths looks blissful. To avoid interrupting as much as she can, Chloe quietly slips into the water on the opposite side of the bath. Keeping herself to herself seems like the best course of action as the other appears to be in their own relaxed world. Good for them. Everyone deserves these quiet moments.

Chloe closes her eyes as that feeling of someone gawking at you won't help the stranger's soothing bath time. The water soon works wonders, making her sink lower into its warmth.

When she does open her eyes, things are... not exactly as they were before. Chloe blinks, half-expecting the scene to shift back. Idly, she wonders if it's a system fault. The thought feels hazy, faraway. A quick diagnostic is run, revealing nothing unusual. And nothing feels wrong, not really. There's an atmosphere of tranquility.

When she looks to the other person, it's to see if they also appear to be seeing what she is. Only now they aren't alone. And Chloe can't quite make herself look away. The tenderness of the gestures, the care that's shown, the reassurances of doing things right... It's heartbreakingly lovely. It warms Chloe's artificial heart and makes it feel constricted at the same time.

It's then she has the sensation of a hand on the top of her head. Without looking, she knows it's tall man with dark hair and blue eyes. Elijah. And somehow it doesn't seem strange that he's there. He begins to stroke her hair, and Chloe smiles.

[necrosaint]

Harrow and the Body both appear to notice—Harrow turns to look, and so the Body turns to look also—as Chloe enters the space, but they aren't much concerned. Normally Harrow would be; normally she would be afraid, but the once-entombed woman embracing her keeps her calm, as does the air of the baths.

She will be disturbed, later.

She is at peace, now.

Eventually her curiosity is piqued, and the pair of them look over again to find a similar exchange going on between two others. Clearly, this kind of reunion must be the true point of the baths. Harrow even smiles gently when she manages to catch Chloe's eye for a moment; that one is familiar, she knows she's another Traveler. The man with her is just as real to Harrow as the Body is, and perhaps he's a Traveler too, despite the fact he just appeared. It makes sense to Harrow, then.

[neverwither]

Chloe returns the smile with a soft one of her own. It isn't merely a polite gesture; the contentment of the other Traveler is so very touching. With the trials that have been faced so far, and with more to come, no doubt, seeing someone at peace strikes a chord.

If only things could always be like this.

Elijah doesn't enter the bath. He does sit down behind her in a lotus position. Both hands glide over her hair, one after the other. It's such a gentle touch. Affectionate. Filled with the care that's reserved only for someone so very special.

If only things could have been like this.

It isn't a comforting thought by any measure. It's unwelcome. Intrusive. It begs the question of why things are like this now. Because none of this should be happening. He isn't here. She's far from home, and alone. And if he was here... This is never how things have been. As much as she longs for it, craves it, it's never to be.

It makes her look to the pair opposite her with a critical curiosity. If Chloe suspects this isn't true (no matter how badly she wants it to be) then it may also be the case that the embrace the other Traveler finds themselves in isn't true either. These islands have their tricks, after all.

But is it for her to burst the serene bubble? Under normal circumstances, the man with her would say yes. That to dwell in dreams is fanciful nonsense. Yet all he does now is continue stroking her hair.

When Chloe finally speaks, it's to try and solve her moral dilemma. Her voice is not much above a whisper, though clearly directed at Harrow. "...You're happy?"

[necrosaint]

Harrow looks briefly surprised to be spoken to, for all that she is not broken from her comfortable haze; at this point, she and the Body are holding hands, fingers entwined.

"I am content," she says a little bit warily. "Are you not?"

Happiness is not something Harrow knows how to feel, even here.

[neverwither]

"No, I am, it's just..."

Chloe's lips press together, like she can't force herself to voice her thoughts. Or perhaps she just doesn't want to admit them to herself. The water and the air around them are a lullaby, coaxing her to do nothing other than steep herself in the moment. There's no harm. No hurt. All she has to do is stop thinking.

Except it isn't always that easy to ignore a troublesome thought. Even when a troublesome thought can be shoved aside, it still gnaws.

"...I'm not sure if... This is exactly how things are..." Her tone is cautious, trying to be delicate about the matter, and her focus remains on Harrow.

arrival

[kneecaptain]

Bucky has his own problems with arriving here— "absolutely no firearms" is just about his least favorite rule, and here he doesn't see the usual way around it. He's trying not to sulk about it when he sees Harrow, face swirled with color, bones set in a scowl.

"What, you don't like it?"

He thinks his voice is friendly, but truth be told, he probably doesn't know what that sounds like, anymore.

Re: arrival

[necrosaint]

"I don't like ... wearing colors."

It's not just the face. It's the clothing. The pink and white tie-dye dress, the fact she's wrapping herself in the Carcosan black cloak she kept in order to not have to think about it, the fact she's worried about losing that somehow.

"I would be all right with my face painted with colors, if I had picked them. This is ridiculous. And everything is allergenic." She doesn't have allergies, but finds herself wondering for a second if Palamedes Sextus is also allergic to pollen—but how would a resident of the Library even know?—before brushing away the sentiment.

[kneecaptain]

"Man, you'd hate where I'm from." Or maybe just the crowd he ran with— guys that ran around doing kung-fu in bright green pyjamas. But Bucky found the whole twenty-first century oversaturated. Not that the world was ever black and white, but fabric cost a pretty penny during the depression, and fabric rationing came after.

So, as much as he's trying not to laugh, he sympathizes.

"Maybe not. No one would blink at the facepaint." He isn't sure about allergies.

[necrosaint]

"You're probably right, I hate most places."

Harrow would definitely be assumed to be a superhero, and she would definitely hate that a lot. That or she would be assumed to be a supervillain when all she wanted to do was stay in her crypt and not interact with anyone at all.

"But people paint their faces properly?" That has her attention.

[kneecaptain]

That response almost earns a laugh, though it comes out more as a rough exhale. Bucky can appreciate the pessimism.

"Dunno about proper." Since he never really bothered, he can't say how much effort other people put into it. "Some of 'em wear masks." And some people of 'em their skin burned off their face with acid, which Bucky doesn't feel sorry about one bit. He has to admit, "I haven't had the best experiences with the skull guys."

arrival

[queenking]

[Oh hey, it's the bone person. What's up, bone person? Why are you gathering...petals?

Because she has no social skills, Saxsice isn't the least bit hesitant about walking up and saying just that:] Whatcha doin' with the flowers? [After a beat, she adds:] Hi.

Re: arrival

[necrosaint]

[ Don't worry about it, Harrow doesn't really have any social skills either. ]

Hello. [ Her pause is about the same length. ] Seeing if I can make a dye for some of my face paint.

[queenking]

Ohhhh. [Saxsice nods seriously, like she understands completely. She clearly doesn't, though, because after a moment she scrunches up her nose.] What for?

[necrosaint]

[ This is at least a question Harrow can answer logically and easily! Unlike so many questions posed of her. ]

Right now all I have is black, white and grey. It does not--go. I am hoping that if I paint my face to better fit in I will get something to wear that is not pink.