EVENT LOG: Leave a Light On

[pluviosamods]

LEAVE A LIGHT ON

You aren't scared of the dark, are you?

The dark is safer than the light. It's the light the reveals the things you'd rather not know. It's the light that's essential to knowledge and to growth. It's the growing things you should be worried about around here. They've been waiting for you for a long time.

... Of course, so has everything thing. But it's the growing things that have the opportunity, now. No matter how dark and stormy the night, morning always comes.

This is the event mingle post for Leave a Light On. This event includes general content of rapid plant growth and the possibility of infection by the Growth (plant-related body horror element) for participating characters. The IC duration of this event is the afternoon and evening of Day 4.

This is not an event with heavy moderator involvement. Players are welcome to make their own top-levels on this post.

Further information on the event can be found here.

Comments

[aureatefantasia]

While facial expression is difficult when one wears a mask, John has plenty to spare in terms of body language, apparently.

(Which, truth be told, isn't great if half your existence is based in deception? Then again, he's also a bit too earnest anymore to be a good liar, either.)

He hunches forward some, attention clearly fixed on the gathering wisps of purple; the move is almost catlike, a pop up-down-forward that sends tendrils fluttering and curling, fluid but sudden, and his hands pull not quite to his chest (how many hands does he have, how many fingers on each?). And it has to be the light above them imperfectly scattering between the plant-life that's shot upward that makes the eyes set in his mask look so wide, as if molded brows raise in surprise. Maybe it's the angle of his head and the soft gasp through a set jaw that gives a convincing impression, ties sound to image.

But that has to be the light and shadow, and it's over in an instant; the mask is as featureless as before, though John tips his head to focus on Childe when he speaks after that little display.

"A hole?" It... There's a rumble in John's chest not unlike a dryly amused huff alongside a sort of disbelieving shock, but just a touch off. Off-kilter, unbalanced. It's not that he's comfortable with this conversation, but it touches on something familiar that pulls on... if not positive, then memories tied to something cherished. His posture straightens, relaxed. "A more dangerous obstacle than many would give it credit for."

John's adjusting, little by little, and he isn't a complete idiot. But he's not going to chase what clearly is not the whole truth just yet. This is... It's nothing John recognizes, but he's sure it's not something a person can just happen upon. A tome, a weapon, a talisman—that, sure, but something as Other as this? Not hardly.

cw: animal death & eating raw meat

[astraldownpour]

Childe takes the opportunity to study the figure, on some level. Perhaps something did lie behind the mask, perhaps there were more limbs than the normal amount(What was normal, to him? To anyone, here?), perhaps there was a mouth through which sound and breath passed through. Perhaps beneath those tattered yellow robes were hundreds of long, squirming things, undulating eternally, something mimicking the vague shape of a man.

The other does gasp, a soft sound. And his voice is tinged with something, a level of disbelief, possibly, as he parrots the idea of a hole in and of itself causing this level of corruption.

"It was a really spooky hole."

Childe keeps his elaboration short and sweet, to the point. He couldn't allow himself an avenue to think that perhaps his life could be anything other than this. That his penchant for ultra-violence was not normal, that his destiny had been twisted and altered, that he had come home wrong. That he was not in fact that same boy from days earlier, who had received his first knife.

He was the same person, of course, but how do you explain that to a mother in mourning, in shock, when she finds her sweet, lost boy gutting a deer, biting into its warmth with his teeth? Where would you start, what lines would you draw? Where does the boy end and the monster begin?

The other seems to relax, before confirming that holes are in fact a dangerous issue to face, easily overlooked, underestimated. Childe knows the stranger in yellow doesn't wholly believe him, not really. But it was better than getting into the nitty gritty of it, and left Childe wiggle room, if he wished to lie and redirect.

"Dangerous is an understatement, in my case. But uh. That's where it came from. I mean no harm."

But Childe wasn't harmless, wasn't without fang and blade. He was very much armed at all times, ready to fight at a moment's notice. A finely honed weapon.

He'd add that he wasn't likely to infect anyone else, but... Truth be told, he didn't know that.

"I haven't seen anything like it here, but uh. We'd have bigger problems, in that case."