[open] Player Plot: Haunting of the Harbors

[vermilloci]

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

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?"

"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.

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.

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!

Comments

night one: follow the souls

[multidisciplinary]

[ After spending the entire night with phantom of her father, Zelda is absolutely exhausted, weighed down with a weariness more intense than anything she has ever felt before. The princess is no stranger to pulling an all-nighter; there have been plenty of times, both before the Calamity and since, where Zelda has stayed awake all night working and then went about her day with no sleep.

No, this is different, a level of fatigue so debilitating that it takes every last ounce of her strength and concentration to keep from passing out on the spot.

But Zelda persists. As the night sky began to lighten with predawn, her father fades into a formless spirit and drifts away, as inexplicably as when he first appeared before her. Despite how her body screams for rest, she forces herself to follow the spirit.

As she approaches the docks, she notices more spirits, converging from all different directions onto this spot. When she is close enough, Zelda extends a hand towards them, but they pass right through her-- a frigid, draining sensation that causes her to stagger.

She follows them down the docks, careful not to touch them again, as they head towards a familiar red boat. That-- that's Rem's boat, without a doubt. Zelda has sailed with Rem a time or two now. That's strange... why are all of these spirits heading to her boat? ]

Rem? [ Zelda pauses at the edge of pier, eyes casting about the deck to see if she can spot her friend. Dawn is approaching, but it's still fairly dark. ] Rem, are you there?

[vermilloci]

[ The souls she'd lost must be gathered once again, and she's sorry-- sorry that this has happened, which is why she's trying to call them back to her, to locate and summon them all back to her. But there are tends, hundreds lost, and she's already tired, and--

"Rem?"

Her eyes blink open. her fingers twitch, and her arm lowers, shaking from exhaustion. (How long has she been standing like this?)

"Rem, are you there?"

She recognizes that voice. ]

Zelda. [ She speaks in a hushed, frightened voice, but over the absolute silence ushered in this morning, Zelda will hear it as a call. Above them and around the pier, various souls remain suspended in the air, hovering tensely. Rem stands near the end of the pier, but as soon as she sees the other woman, the thousands of excuses on her tongue abruptly shrivel up and die. ]

Zelda.... Are you alright?

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda expected to find Rem aboard her boat, so she's surprised when she hears her friend's voice coming from further down the pier. But more than that, Rem sounds... scared.

She turns, slowly so as not to lose her balance, and takes in the scene at the end of the pier. At first, she thought the spirits were all congregating on the boat, but now that she turns, she sees that they're actually continuing onward. Or at least, they were. Now they've all stopped suddenly, not unlike how things freeze in place when Zelda uses Recall. ]

I believe so...

[ Aside from being dead tired and drained like a battery.

She takes a few cautious steps in Rem's direction, staring up in awe at the souls. There must be hundreds of them... Where did they all come from? And why are they congregating here? ]

What... What's going on?

[vermilloci]

[ The confusion in Zelda's voice indicates, perhaps, that she hasn't yet come to a conclusion. If so, Rem has very few choices here. Decieve, or... tell her the truth.

If she lies, that means her concentration will break, and all the souls she's managed to call back to her might disperse once again-- and return to haunt their victims. Seeing as how exhausted Zelda appears, Rem has no doubt she, and others like her, might not be able to tolerate another visit so soon.

If she tells the truth... ]

Don't... don't be scared. It's okay. [ Her voice wavers. ] They won't harm you.

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda doesn't quite have enough information to draw a conclusion on what is going on. She was surprised to be visited by the ghost of her father tonight, but more so because that meant he was able to pass through the rift than seeing his ghost at all. (In Hyrule, it is not unprecedented for the spirits of the dead to linger on the mortal plane, especially those who died with regrets or in battle.)

But there were a few things about him that seemed... off. He was overly concerned by the possibility that Zelda had forgotten him, which she assured him could never happen. He also seemed to sap her strength every time she came into contact with him, a characteristic she's not heard mentioned in regard to spirits before. She expected his spirit to be cold and ethereal, and that she would pass right through him if she tried to touch him. She did not expect to feel her own essence drained away too. ]

What are they... doing?

[ There's as much wonder as there is trepidation in Zelda's voice (as well as the breathless quality of one who is physically weak). She's seen spirits, but never so many at one time. And they're all so indistinct, a mass of blank, featureless phantasms. Her father looked just like she remembered him when his spirit visited her; why do these spirits not look like anyone?

Since spirits are a factual existence in Hyrule and not mere superstition, it does not register to Zelda that perhaps she should be surprised that Rem is not scared of the ghosts. But she is somewhat surprised by Rem's reassurances, because that suggests familiarity with whatever's going on here. ]

[vermilloci]

[ Some souls come in a variation of colors-- in her world, at least. A fiend's soul often reflects the base hue of whatever element they exhibit. Then there are grades to them, some more potent, others... not so much. There are common ones, there are rare ones. But the humans' souls...

They are always a pale, wispy white, ranging from the most immaculate shade of snow to the rich lusters of ivory and argent. These are the souls that remain suspended like stars in the air around them, as pure as a blank canvas.

She can't hold them forever like this. She can't lie forever, and she's not good at it anyway. Moreover, she finds herself not wanting to, not to a friend, and not when that friend might need help. She must finish what she's doing, or else, she'll lose them.

Rem's fingers twitch, and one of them floats downward, traveling to her palm. ] I'm calling them back.

I'm... trying to call them back.

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda's eyes catch the movement of that single soul and travel with it as it drifts down from the group... right into the palm of Rem's hand.

Her eyes widen, mouth opening in a silent gasp. ] Calling them...

[ Zelda thought (naively, perhaps) that it was just a coincidence, that Rem just so happened to be here in the same spot that the spirits were congregating. --Or, perhaps she had followed them too, just like Zelda, having been visited by the ghost of someone she knew and wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery.

But no, it's none of those things. In fact, it's starting to feel like Rem herself might be the bottom of the mystery.

Zelda cautiously approaches Rem, replaying her words. Trying to make sense of this is causing Zelda's head to pound in protest, but she presses her fingers to her temple and wills herself to concentrate. What does Rem mean, "calling them?" Calling them why? From where? Calling them-- ] --back?

[ Zelda stops just beyond arm's reach, searching Rem's expression for further explanation. That's the lynchpin of it-- she's calling them back, as though they are somehow hers. And that.. that just seems outrageous. Rem is no lich.

But how else is Zelda supposed to interpret the way that soul traveled down from the sky straight to Rem's hand? ]

[vermilloci]

[ What Zelda will find in Rem's expression is both exhaustion and guilt; the latter, however, is not due to holding the souls at all, but rather that they got out of her possession to cause all this. Had they remained with her, others would not have seen visions of the dead. They would not suffer interactions, they would not grieve for those lost. ]

They're... in my care. [ She speaks quietly, bowing her head as she looks at the soul. It shimmers voicelessly in the palm of her hand. ]

They're not supposed to interact with others. Not like this. I'm sorry if any caused you to grieve.

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda's brows draw together, as they always do when she's concentrating-- which is much harder to do tonight than usual. Rem's explanation is perfectly clear, but somehow it just doesn't make sense to Zelda. (There is no concept or equivalent of shinigami in Hyrulean spiritualism.)

A number of questions come to Zelda's mind all at once. Why would Rem have hundreds of souls in her care?-- And what does that mean, "in her care?" If she's supposed to be caring for them, why have they all been out roaming around Eltrut? And speaking of roaming Eltrut-- ]

Why do you have my father's spirit?

[ Zelda's tone isn't accusatory, but Rem would be forgiven for interpreting it that way. To Zelda, it's just a matter of logic. Her father died in Hyrule, and over one hundred years ago. Why would someone from another world entirely be in possession of a soul from Hyrule? ]

[vermilloci]

[ Confusion marks her expression. Her father's souls...? Ah. That must have been who Zelda had seen earlier in the night. Rem cannot fathom recalling someone so close to her as dead. A father, even.

(What is it like to remember someone like that? Does she still miss him? Was it worth seeing him again?) ]

I... don't know. [ She has the power to harvest phantoma, but to bring souls in from another world? Not at all. ] These souls are blank.

[ Rem has some theories-- perhaps interacting with the living closest to them manages to imprint upon their souls, making them take on the form of a lost loved one (or enemy), a simulacrum. But she has no means to prove that theory, and she has even less desire to try. What matters most is gathering them all back. ] They're ones I've gathered elsewhere.

[multidisciplinary]

Blank?

[ Originally, Zelda intended to give Rem enough space to continue... calling back souls or whatever it is that she's doing. But at her mention that the souls are blank, Zelda can't help but approach so she can see for herself. ]

How can they be blank? [ She leans in to get a close look at the soul in Rem's palm, searching it for any defining features. ] Were they not once... people?

[ Regardless of where they came from, if each soul came from a person, then each soul has to be unique in some way. No two people are alike, after all. And no people are simply.... blank. That's impossible. Mannequins are blank. People are... people; good, bad, or in between. ]

[vermilloci]

I don't know how. [ She replies, sincerity blanching her somber tone. ] Maybe whatever makes them them fades sooner. Or maybe that happens automatically when they expire.

[ She doesn't know the myths and lore regarding souls and the afterlife in this world, but if she's accidentally committing a terrible slight against the powers-that-be for harvesting souls like these, no one is stopping her. Not that she and her classmates were stopped in her own world, either, by any deities. ]

I have a theory. [ She continues quietly, looking at the soul. ] You... must have seen someone you knew, didn't you? [ Zelda looks tired enough. ] I think that people can imprint on them by simply being by them. That's why they also don't stray from you.

[ Rem closes her hand, and with that, the soul vanishes into her palm. There's a few moments when she closes her eyes, letting out a tired sigh as she feels it return to her. She raises the hand to her chest, pressing her palm flat against her shirt, as if the soul had traveled from her hand to her heart. ]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda lets Rem's theory hang in the air, watching as she closes her hand and the soul disappears. Where did it go? Did Rem send it away somewhere? Zelda's eyes flick up to Rem's face and she catches that look of fatigue, that tired sigh, her hand pressing against her chest, and all the pieces click into place. Oh... That's what she means when she says they're "in her care." She's not simply shepherding them, she's carrying them, literally, with her own self as a vessel. ]

It was the spirit of my father. He died long ago in Hyrule.

[ Zelda straightens up, then lifts her chin to regard the swirl of souls above them. ]

You think it was not truly him, and that I somehow... imprinted my memories of him onto someone else's soul?

[ That thought makes her lips draw into line, not solely because the spirit she spent all night with was not actually her father, but because she might have unintentionally overwritten another person's soul. Faded or not, that soul once belonged to a person; imprinting her own father's spirit in their place makes Zelda feel very guilty. ]