Rem Tokimiya (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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escordvi2024-07-05 08:22 pm
vermilloci) wrote in escordvi2024-07-05 08:22 pm
Entry tags:
[open] Player Plot: Haunting of the Harbors
Who: EVERYONE Opting in!
Status: OPEN
Where: Harbors of the world
What: Player plot, threads count as 4pts each, like a quest! Threads with confronting Rem are 6pts.
Warnings: Death, ghosts, the dead spirits haunting people, potential for fights/action/violence
Status: OPEN
Where: Harbors of the world
What: Player plot, threads count as 4pts each, like a quest! Threads with confronting Rem are 6pts.
Warnings: Death, ghosts, the dead spirits haunting people, potential for fights/action/violence
Night 1
The sun has set for what should be a clear, peaceful night on a harbor, a band of three rowdy sailors stumble out from a very fine and reputable (read: grimy and suspicious) establishment. With golden ale still sloshing over the tops of the mugs they've stolen, the sailors merrily stumble their way down the boardwalk and all the way to the shore, singing a grossly out-of-tune sea shanty. Their song echoes from the seawalls to the lighthouse, until one of them stops in his tracks, hearing another stanza of the shanty sung back. One of the sailors motions for the others to pause while he bravely steps forward, peering into the darkness. A silhouette appears to form from the quiet harbor mist. Or perhaps it had been there all along.
"Oi, ain't that your old man?"Within the next hour, rumors rapidly begin to spread throughout the harbor as more and more sightings of.... ghosts? phantoms? visions of the dead appear. The long lost, the long loved, and the long loathed alike are all here once again! Most gossipers, of course, roll their eyes. It's not as if this realm hasn't had its share of undead haunting in some ghastly way, shape, or form.
"You see 'im?"
"Aye, we see him, too. How could we forget? He's the one who taught us this song."
At the sailor's words, the phantom smiles warmly, opening his arms wide to the three.
However, these apparitions, ghosts, spirits phantoms, visions— whatever one wishes to call them— are more than a ghost, ghoul, or banshee from a ship wreckage or haunted castle. They are someone the characters knows, deceased in their canon, and they are here to haunt for this one night. The spirit behaves as they did in their canon, whether benevolent or otherwise. Be warned, though: the longer one spends with the spirit, the more weary the living becomes, as if their energy is being siphoned (to whatever degree the player is comfortable, of course). If one stays with a phantom until dawn, you may feel bedridden the entire following day.
But perhaps it's worth it. How often does one get the opportunity to chat with someone both deceased and coherent? While the phantoms can talk about anything the player wishes, there is one unifying theme: the memory of them. Do you remember them? Do you wish to remember them? Or would you rather not?
- More info can be found on this post here for specifics, conditions, and the negative effects on the phantoms, as well as how to defeat them. Think of any light/holy/exorcist-based magic, power, or talisman, for the magic route. Alternatively, a character can will the phantom away by both expending a great amount of mental effort and expressing that they wish to forget the phantom.
- If not banished, phantoms stick around until dawn. If they do, that is when the character will feel the most drained.
- Characters are free to capture the phantoms' souls for themselves, if they are capable. But if not, they may see that upon the phantom's defeat or the phantom vanishing at dawn, the phantom's soul (as well as those of others nearby) all head in a single direction— near the harbor, where a medium-sized red sailboat is anchored.
Night 2
The ghostly visitors' effects of the previous night ripple into the following evening. Thus, the sun sets on a night quieter than the last, with a chill, mournful breeze disturbing the lush, summer tree branches. Music from the various taverns is not as merry, and some shutter their windows as soon as the last bit of blood orange fades with the twilight. The marina's waters are still, as if the entire harbor holds its breath, waiting, wondering if the phantoms will appear again. Some curse their previous visitors. But for others...
Some locals take to the streets, holding a candle out, waiting. Waiting. Waiting and watching to see a lost loved one once again. Others come equipped with light-filled trinkets and blessed talismans, ready to banish their hateful grudges away.
Whether it's the same spirit or a different one, the haunting continues. How the phantoms may have behaved the previous night doesn't matter. The phantom wishes to live, and they are convinced that, somehow, they can return to life by taking more of the living's. The phantom may go about this cleverly— perhaps starting off the same as the previous night, wanting to still reconnect with you, express their kinship with you, persuade you to sit with them— or they might go about this directly, immediately. Some do this by touch, while others merely need to extend their hand outward, but once they do, you will begin to feel tired. This is your energy, your power, your life essence that they are trying to take. Don't you wish them to live, too? Even if not, why not give them yours?
To whoever intervenes in their quest for life, they will siphon the interloper instead. For those who wish for a more action-y type of battle, with enough energy siphoned, they can turn into hideous, monstrous undead versions of themselves. How monstrous the "undead" form these phantoms take is up to the player! These forms are more tangible, too, so while they might hit harder, they can also be defeated by physical means.
- The phantoms can be defeated in the same manner as the previous night, or else they might stick around until morning.
- The souls of the dead, like those of the previous night, will all head in a certain direction. This time, they float further out of the town, towards the beaches.
Final Notes
You don't need to have previous CR with Rem or need to interact with her to participate in this miniplot. Just have fun! Or have it be an excuse to have your character see dead people, or let other characters see someone dead from their canon C: Feel free to use this post as plotting! For any questions, I can also be reached via this post, PM,drinksteapots or jade294 on disco! Happy summer haunting!
- Threads for both portions will count as 4 points, like a quest! Threads with Rem, if you wish to confront or fight her, will be 6pts.
- Art credit to phantom.painting on Instagram!
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From an alleyway, Louis casually leans against a building, watching the two interact, not intervening-- for now. He has a ghost following him, as lithe and ethereal and vicious as she'd appear in life-- or rather, her unlife. Like Zelda with her phantom, he's yet to banish his companion... Even if he knows he must, and he's quite aware of what's happening, the drain that's affecting him. Creatures in his world inflict similar curses. Allowing his own phantom to linger is a choice, and being tired is not a steep price to speak with the lost. It's a dangerous game he's playing, but he's willing to risk it-- for himself. As for others being effected...?
He hears this-- Louis steps out of the shadows, crossing the street. ]
Sorry to interrupt. [ His voice is a knife perfectly balanced between politeness and coolness upon a single point. ] Could you repeat that again?
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Su-- [ She stops herself from addressing him as "Subject G," but even that single syllable is enough to communicate her tone of 'What are you doing here?'
The spirit holds out an arm, as though to protect Zelda from approaching danger. (Or, perhaps, to bar her from rescue.) ]
Nothing you need to concern yourself with. This is between my daughter and I.
[ There's a clear warning in his words, one that makes Zelda glance towards him in alarm. She has heard this tone from her father before, but not without provocation. The king is usually more controlled than this. ]
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You’d harm your own daughter?
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[ She goes to push her father's arm aside, but as soon as her hand passes through the spirit's aura, Zelda is hit by an intense wave of vertigo and stumbles forward.
The phantom moves as if to catch her-- and she automatically tries to grab it-- but of course, she once more passes through it, falling towards the ground with outstretched hands. ]
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He has her back on her feet a moment later, and when she's steadied on her feet, his arm slips from Zelda's back. Louis takes a protective step between her and the ghost. His eyes flick to where his phantom stands-- still in the shadows, waiting, patient-- then back to the woman's father.
To Zelda: ] You still want to talk to him?
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Of course I do. [ In fact, if she was more steady, she would probably step past Louis to return to the phantom of her father. But as it is, the best she can manage right now is staying upright. ]
This-- [ She gestures at the ghost. ] This is all my fault. He never should have died. I would gladly pay any price to bring him back.
[ The spirit says nothing. At this point, it doesn't need to. It has already spent several long hours tonight reminding Zelda of all her failures during the Calamity, all the lives that were lost because of her. Wouldn't she do anything to fix her mistakes? Does she really deserve to live so happily after everything she did-- after everything she didn't do? ]
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His voice is cold. ]
And you know the price?
[ Although phrased as a question, it's spoken as a statement. He's only seen her once before, but the impression she left had been of someone intelligent, observant. There's no way she couldn't have noticed. ]
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But that knowledge alone has not been enough to stop Zelda. Guilt is a powerful thing, more powerful than any facts. ]
It is her life to do with as she wishes. And if she wishes to use it to make amends for the Calamity, you will not stop her.
[ The phantom glowers at Louis as it issues its warning, eyes glowing bright beneath its hood. The Old Man's clearly defined features seem to melt for a moment, like soft wax drooping under its own weight, before hardening once more as it regains control of itself. ]
Now come, Zelda. [ The spirit extends its hand, inviting her to take it.
But guilt is not quite stronger than the little voice right at the heart of her that screams she wants to live, so Zelda hesitates-- caught, as ever, between her duty and her desires. ]
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Curiously, his own phantom used the same tactic as this older man. Wielding both guilt and sacrifice is manipulation that cuts to the very core of one's heart, dead as his own might be. If that makes the two of them similar in whatever guilt they share from their past, that's a thought he files away for another day. But because of his own hauntings, he's realized two things. First, his phantom, had she truly been herself, would never ask for his sacrifice. This soul is not hers. Second, he has his doubts that it would even work.
Thoughts aside, it would be cruel to obliterate this facsimile in front of Zelda.
(At least he's gotten her name.) ]
No more sacrifices.
[ This comes as a declaration. ]
Zelda, is it? I'm going to need you to look away.
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No-- [ She grabs his arm, even though he isn't holding a weapon ] No, you can't! He's my father!
[ Or at least, that's what she thinks. Or what she thinks she thinks. Honestly, she doesn't know what she thinks right now. She's so confused. On the one hand, the ghost looks and sounds just like her father. It has memories only her father could have. But on the other hand, some of the things it says are just not quite right.
And Zelda... Zelda finds herself questioning whether her father would really ask her to sacrifice her life to bring him back. He always pushed her so hard in life, pushed her to awaken her sacred powers no matter what, to the point where Zelda thought bitterly that he would glad if she died saving Hyrule. Her failure cost him his life; it's only right that she make up for that with her life. But something, some part of Zelda's heart, screams at her that her father would never ask such a thing. ]
He's my father... [ Her voice quivers, lacking the conviction that was there a moment ago.
She looks to the spirit, silently begging it to prove that it is really her father.
But the ghost ignores her, all of its attention focused on Louis. It understands, just as Zelda does, what he means to do. Self-preservation comes first. Any good will it loses with Zelda can be regained. And if nothing else, she's probably not even strong enough to resist it anymore. The greater threat is this stranger, who seems oddly unaffected despite the other spirit lurking in the shadows. ]
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While Louis has no natural gifts against ghosts and the like, he knows from his own encounters that once they take enough energy, they become solid, physical begins. His plan is simple: to use his ichor, his power, to force a transformation upon the phantom, and then slaughter it.
But Zelda is still watching, and it's as clear as the stars in the sky how frail she seems. The closer she is to this spirit, the more danger she is in, and he dreads what might happen if her 'father' makes contact with her one last time.
His voice is deep as it is gentle, sympathetic. ] I'm sorry.
[ Louis lifts his hand, digging his nails into his palm deep enough that they puncture his skin. Red drips from his hand as he prepares. 'No sacrifices' had been his own words, but he clearly doesn't think this counts.
Louis flicks his palm outward, splattering the spirit with droplets of-- not human blood, no, but ichor, the blood of his immortal kind, precious and powerful, and he awaits the results. ]
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His words pull her attention away from the spirit just in time to see him rupture his own skin with his nails and draw blood.
Zelda staggers back with a horrified gasp, one she tries to stifle by clasping her hands over her mouth-- but the suddenness of her own movement sends another wave of vertigo rushing over her and she ends up falling backward onto the ground.
Somehow, instead of passing through the spirit's ephemeral form, the ichor splatters directly onto it. The ghost lets out a sharp wail, something distinctly inhuman, as if the spots where the ichor struck it burn. And in a way, they kind of do-- thin wisps of black smoke rise up from each spot. But the ghost's garb does not catch fire so much as it begins to melt-- as does the rest of it. Clothes and skin and beard at first sag like softening wax, then liquify completely and drip onto the ground, leaving behind a skeleton.
Although it may have looked like the spirit was melting away from the from the contact with the ichor, the truth is exactly the opposite. It drew in that energy, that power, enough to shed its phantasmal form and become "alive" again, a reanimated ghoul. All traces of resemblance to Zelda's father have vanished, including the monster's ability to speak. What remains is a skeleton composed of old, yellowed bones, with inky black smoke and flecks of pink embers clinging to it. A cursed fiend. ]
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hahof his kind, his greatsword manifests by a sudden condensation of golden particles. Despite its size, he grasps the hilt with only one hand, catching it as it appears. Moonlight streaks across the crimson edge as he brandishes it to the side, and in the same motion, and he charges toward the monster.Hopefully, he'll be able to make quick work of it-- because he's keenly aware that because he'd drawn his blood, his own phantom has stepped out from the shadows to observe the fight. ]
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The fiend, meanwhile, does not spare a glance towards Zelda. Its attention remains on Louis. It does not have a weapon to summon, but it doesn't need one. As long as it can grab hold of Louis, it can siphon more of his energy... or even more of his blood. But if it can't, that greatsword will easily be the end of it. Its bones are brittle and it needs more energy to strengthen its current form.
When Louis charges, the skeleton will make its best effort to read his movements and dodge. It assumes that a sword of that size will slow Louis down, giving the fiend enough time to get behind him and grab him somewhere-- anywhere it can get its hands on him. Even if Louis breaks some of its bones, the skeleton will continue its pursuit. Crushing its skull is the only way to stop it for good. ]
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A part of his plan has failed him, however. He is not as weary as other victims because he's used the same tactic before, that of forcing a physical transformation among the phantoms to rend them. In the ensuing fight, it was a simple matter of draining them in return, recovering his lost ichor in the process, and perhaps taking a little more. But with a creature made solely of bone?
He can't do that. There's no blood or any other substance his body can convert into it.
In terms of an attack, it's not crushing for which he'll be going, but cleaving. Louis starts with brandishing his blade broad-side for a parry, then follows up with an attack. If he misses this one, the cobblestone will have a crater as his greatsword strikes the ground. If it connects, it's going to at least strike through that massive horn on its head. Louis is quick, but not as quick as he will be later in the fight, when he begins to build up his momentum. ]
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It starts siphoning his energy, but the contact lasts only a second. A second attack cleaves the skeletal arm from the body, which dissolves into black ash.
The monster shrieks in agony and draws back, trying to get out of reach of the sword. It appears to hesitate, as though debating between a second attempt to steal some of Louis' ichor or cutting its losses and fleeing with what life essence it already has.
But whether it's greed or simply the mindlessness of a monster, the fiend picks the former and makes a head-on charge. No caution, no calculation this time, just a desperate attack. It doesn't account for Louis at all, and this oversight results in his blade not only shattering its horn, but cleaving straight through its skull as well and rending it from the spine. The remainder of the skeleton dissolves into ash. ]
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He hadn't accounted for the possibility that perhaps in other worlds, skeletons could... animate themselves with neither tendons nor muscles, to say nothing of the blood that would supply the tissues!
His nostrils flare with exertion as he wrenches his hand away and follows up with his attacks. One poorly planned charge from the beast later, and Louis makes quick work of the rest. The last of the creature dissipates, and Louis dismisses his blade, a hand going to his chest. He's definitely more tired than moments before, but he's not in any danger enough to faint. No, the one he must bring to safety is--
Louis whips his head back in Zelda's direction. Rather, just above her shoulder. ]
Zelda. [ His voice is tight, his jaw clenched. ]
Walk towards me. Slowly. Don't look back.
[ From somewhere behind her, a young woman's voice calls, amused: ]
Louis.
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So of course, when told not to look behind her, Zelda automatically starts to do exactly that--
--but manages to catch herself mid-turn. Immediately, she lifts one hand to shield that side of her face, blocking her view of whatever is behind her. Something snuck up on her while her attention was locked on the battle, and by Louis' tone, it's clearly something dangerous.
Zelda looks back at him, holding his gaze as she carefully, unsteadily gets to her feet. Just the act of standing is dizzying and Zelda has to hold out her other hand to keep her balance.
And then she hears it behind her-- a young woman's voice, so normal, so disarming, and so much closer than Zelda expected that she freezes in place, as if holding still could provide any protection. Lines of worry deepen on her brow as she looks to Louis for direction. (Noting, distantly, that this is the first she's learning of his name.) ]
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Louis has only seen them a handful of times before. He knows they are not vines, but vessels, vessels reaching out to anything that lives, breathes, and bleeds to impale and suck the vitality out of them-- a perfect tool for these phantoms-turned-monsters. However, he notes the vessels look different than how gruesome they appear in his world, and that can't be a coincidence. If this isn't the true Queen, it follows that neither are any of her abilities. Should those branches expand and strike, perhaps they might be weaker, perhaps they won't turn another into a Lost, perhaps they won't serve as appendages and drain another. That alone would be their saving grace, but Louis also doesn't wish to risk it.
Zelda makes it a few steps closer, and Louis' eyes narrow and flick down to the edge of her heels, where the vessels twitch and pulse. They activate by detecting excessive movement, ready to strike and clamp down like a fly trap, which is why he'd cautioned her to move slowly. Louis draws in a breath, reaching a hand out towards Zelda. All she needs to do is to take a few more slow steps and take it, and with enough distance between them and the vessels, he can rush her away to safety. The Queen tends to stalk slowly (if at all, far more preferring to remain in her Crypt), he's sure they can make it-- ]
Always so hesitant.
[ --And she's there, suddenly, taking action because this isn't the actual Queen, standing beside Zelda as if they were friends. Her fangs descend in place of canines, a cruel smile that doesn't match the otherwise soft cadence of her voice, the kindness still etched into the youthfulness of her face. Hunger glows with an icy blue in her eyes, and if Zelda had attempted to extend her arm and hand out at all in Louis' direction, they roam over pulse at her wrist. She reaches for Zelda's arm with a single, slender finger, the nail extending to a threatening point, ready to draw blood should Zelda move. ]
You wouldn't mind a bite?
Don't--
[ The Queen snaps her attention to him, feigning hurt, then smiling gently. ] But we could share her together.
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On the periphery of her gaze, she sees them, vines that have grown from out of nowhere all the way to her heels. ...No, not vines; vines don't twitch like that. They don't pulsate like they're connected to a beating heart. These are something else, something she senses she should be afraid of. And that fear makes her own heart beat faster.
She looks up again to see him reaching out to her. She extends her hand in turn, managing to gingerly take one more step before the Queen's voice is suddenly right beside her ear.
Zelda's gasp is a sharp intake of breath through her nose as she freezes in place again. This time, she can't stop herself from looking, turning her head just slightly to a woman who is simultaneously beautiful and bone chilling. She's young, probably near to Zelda in age, and pretty, with white hair like a member of the Sheikah clan. But there's something terrifying in her fanged smile and unnatural eyes that makes ice run through Zelda's veins.
It's not even the touch of the Queen's fingernail but the anticipation of it that makes Zelda's arm twitch beneath it. She clenches her jaw to swallow a whimper, but the way her body trembles, especially her outstretched arm, betrays her fear.
Zelda's eyes return once more to Louis', pleading silently for help. She doesn't fully understand what the Queen wants from her, what she wants Louis to want from her, but it's clear enough that she has been caught by a predator who means to consume her. ]
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As if reading his expression, the Queen muses, ] No...?
Then how about yours? Don't forget. You owe me.
[ Wretched thing. He'd bark with laughter at the false-Queen's poor performance if Zelda weren't being held hostage. The tragic part of this all? When she had first appeared the previous night, there had been a small, hopeful, naive part of him that still believed that somehow she could be saved, that beneath it all, Cruz was there.
This Queen merely tilts her head to the side, long, matted hair falling over her cheek as her icy gaze roams over Louis as if expecting her offer to work.
But all he has for her is a promise, a promise that's nearly growled out between his teeth; for a promise is the most he can do for the Queen, real or fake: ]
I'm going to end you.
[ The tip of her claw draws a bead of Zelda's blood. ]
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Zelda will be released, but as for Louis-- he's managed to catch the Queen in a hold, yes, but he's pinning her to the bed of vessels that had grown behind her all the while. The vessels shiver and rise to the sides in a wave, their ends drawing to a point. Most are poised to strike him, but one shifts its body like a snake's, turning in Zelda's direction. ]
Run! [ He shouts at her, even as he slams the Queen's head to the ground a second time. ]
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Everything seems to happen at once in that next moment. Before Zelda can even comprehend that Louis has vanished, he reappears, lunging towards the Queen. The momentum of the impact frees Zelda, but sends her sprawling to the ground. Instinctively, she raises her arms to protect her head and ends up tumbling beyond the vines.
That fall should have been enough to knock Zelda unconscious-- she's barely hanging on as it is. But whether by some miracle or just pure adrenaline, she retains consciousness.
Fighting against every aching protest of her exhausted body, she forces herself to her feet, just in time to hear Louis shout for her to run. She turns to see him pinning the Queen in the nest of wriggling vines-- vines are now positioning themselves to strike at him like piercing blades. ]
Look out!
[ Without even thinking, Zelda throws out her right hand and calls forth her divine magic. A golden barrier materializes around Louis and the Queen, impenetrable by the vessels. With her focus on Louis, she's not aware that there is one vessel not aiming at him. ]
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Through the fierce pounding in his head and hunger twisting his stomach at the scent of blood, he’s somehow aware that the golden barrier around them is Zelda’s doing. Had those vines struck and latched onto him to drain him further, this fight would have granted their opponent all the extra vitality needed to knock him away. He’d thank Zelda for the help, even, if he weren’t so hyper focused on turning their predator into prey.
Despite this queen being an imitation, Louis won’t risk feeding from her like the other spirits-turned-solid— which would ordinarily damn someone to become a Lost. The urge to sink his teeth into her increases the more the queen attempts to drain from him, but enough. Enough. Louis focuses his will, breaking through the pain and exhaustion, and grounds himself just enough to ignite his power. Flames roar to life beneath his palms, charring through her neck. Whatever dreadful magic and flesh she’s made of, she catches fire as quickly as dried grass in the midst of summer, engulfing her completely before she can wail— the only mercy he grants this insulting abomination.
(A merciful death is what Louis owed her.)
The flame spreads throughout the vessels, hopefully in time to stop the one lashing out at Zelda. ]
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Through the barrier's radiance, she sees flames suddenly burst forth from out of nowhere. Zelda cries out in alarm, waving her arm and dismissing the barrier in a shower of golden embers. It's impossible for her to tell how the fire started, but it's already spread so rapidly it looks like both the Queen and Louis are about to be fully engulfed by the flames.
Her magic is useless in this moment, so Zelda rushes forward, intending to dive right into the fire to pull Louis out. But she barely makes it more than a couple steps before that last overlooked vessel lunges at her. Zelda reflexively throws up her arms to shield her face just in time, and its vicious point lodges itself in her forearm.
The force of the attack is enough to knock Zelda to the ground yet again and she feels that same draining sensation once... but this time, it only lasts a moment. Zelda lifts her head to see the rest of the vessel burn away, leaving only the sharpened point piercing her arm and a few inches of charred vine twitching like a severed limb. ]
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