[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

A

[crystalrepose]

[The beach didn't stay isolated for long; Miriam had been down by the swell line when she'd noticed the glow of a fire. The Shardbinder changed courses to investigate, sand clinging to her wet boots--but not to those of her own ghostly attendant. The taller man standing beside her had the same crystals as Miriam, though an even more extensive, wilder tangle of them. There was more red to the shards, too--and without the seals that bounded Miriam's. His appearance was...startling, undoubtedly, and when Zelda jumped like that Miriam attributed it to Gebel, rather than anything else. She stepped forwards, raised a hand in reassurance, and saw who the blonde woman was sitting next to.

For a fleeting moment her heart jumped faster than her mind--]

Alfred? [She blurted out.]

[The phantom at Miriam's side was also momentarily very attentively looking at the Old Man, but only a moment. Then--he chuckled softly, flicking his cloak out of the way to tap the black-haired woman's shoulder. The fabric rustled like the real thing, but his touch was cold and ephemeral. Miriam tried not to think about it.]

Now, Miriam, is that any way to greet someone? [His voice was gentle and kind despite the chiding note to it, all out of keeping with his dramatic appearance.]

Right--sorry.

[With more than a cursory glance, that idea was moot anyway. This person--Zelda's father? (...once father)--was too tall and broad in the shoulders anyway. Alfred was hardly a feeble old man, but he was still of a more scholarly build. His voice was kind, too--but that was the only similarity.]

I'm Miriam, and this is Gebel. I've been showing him around the city.

Yes, my dear friend here has been quite insistent in showing me every building in the nearest three districts.

Not everything-- [Miriam protested, but the ghost continued onwards regardless with the practiced air of an older sibling.] And the ships, and now we're out here. A rest wouldn't be unwelcome.

[The younger Shardbinder was about to protest again--she knew Gebel, and of course he meant for her to do the resting. She didn't need coddling, there was so much to introduce him to still!

...she had been about to turn in for the night, though. Perhaps a break wouldn't be remiss. And she could hopefully set any lingering nerves Zelda had to rest, while she was at it.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Gebel certainly is startling, to say the least, and if Zelda had any preconceptions about vampires (beyond "they're English"), those would probably leap to mind at the sight of him. But since they don't, she ends up honing in more on his crystals than the rest of his dramatic appearance. They look quite a bit like Miriam's, albeit more widespread and with some variations in color composition. From this distance and with only a campfire for light, Zelda can't tell that Gebel's crystals lack the sealing runes that Miriam's have, so she assumes by default that they're present.

But all this is noticed distantly, as the way he and Miriam react to Rhoam takes Zelda by surprise. Miriam has never mentioned anyone named 'Alfred' (not that Zelda has asked), but the fact that she momentarily mistakes Rhoam for him is at least enough to give Zelda the impression that he is (or was?) someone important in her life.

The Old Man, in contrast, takes everything in stride, unfazed by the moment of mistaken identity and the striking appearances of both Miriam and Gebel. What catches his attention is Miriam's name. ]

Ah, so you're Miriam, are you? [ The ghost looks her up and down as if assessing her, then nods his approval. ] In that case, you must sit with us-- I won't take no for an answer.

[ The Old Man gestures towards the campfire. ]

I hear I have you to thank for my daughter's safety. An apple is hardly appropriate compensation, but please take one.

[crystalrepose]

[Miriam had heard similar sentiments before, and should have been fairly practiced in dealing with them. She wasn't always, though. Especially with fatigue and the surprise of seeing her memories walk next to her again.]

Oh--yes, it was no trouble. I'm always glad to help.

You've been quite busy here, I see. But your magnanimity won't do as much good if you're not caring for yourself, Miriam.

[She made a bit of a face as she glanced at Gebel, not unlike an exasperated sibling. The taller Shardbinder only inclined his head.]

You heard him, didn't you? We're welcome here.

[Leading by example, the phantom stepped closer to the fire, flicked back his cloak and knelt to sit. Gebel wasn't afraid of a bit of sand--neither was his ghost.

Miriam didn't hesitate after that, but she did glance at Zelda as she sat. Were...they good? Was this enough to prove the Shardbinders' intentions as harmless? Her mind kept straying to older paths, old habits, with more suspicious people.

And, belatedly, she did pick up one of the apples, for now simply holding it in her hands like a warm stone. How long had Miriam been out here...? Her hands were a bit chilled, despite the endless summer's evening here.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ When Miriam's eyes catch Zelda's, she sees the question in them-- albeit, not the same question Miriam is actually asking. She assumes Miriam is asking if it's really okay to join them, given the way Zelda reacted to her arrival. Zelda nods reassuringly; yes, everything is fine. The princess will just have to cross her fingers and hope that her father's, well, everything doesn't give away the royal secret she's been hiding these past few months. ]

More than welcome-- as is any relation of Miriam's. [ The Old Man nods towards Gebel, having already noticed the familial dynamic between the pair. ]

Ah, but where are my manners? Gebel, allow me to introduce my pride and joy, my daughter, Zelda. [ The Old Man extends a hand towards Zelda to present her, whose cheeks grow warm with the unexpected flattery. Then, to both of them: ] And you may call me Rhoam, if you like, but you needn't commit it to memory. I won't be much longer for this world. Dawn is not too far off, I believe.

[crystalrepose]

[Relieved at the unspoken but slightly misaddressed answer, Miriam settled back into the sand. And despite the alarming red of his eyes, Gebel's expression was a kind and pleasant thing. He smiled softly, though the intimidating nature of his mask blunted the effect.]

Pleased to meet you, Zelda. And you, Rhoam.

[While Gebel spoke, Miriam glanced over her shoulder at the ocean's horizon; she couldn't tell quite how bright it was, with the firelight spoiling her night vision. But she didn't have a particular reason to doubt the phantom. It had been a long night.

Miriam turned back to face Zelda and her father, a little furrow in her brow.]

If it's your name, surely that alone makes it worth remembering, doesn't it?

[The black haired Shardbinder didn't question Rhoam's morbid declaration. Miriam had seen quite enough of death, and...she knew, just by looking at him. He acted just as lively as Gebel, but the eerie ghost-light by his feet was impossible to ignore. Just as her memories of Gebel's final moments were impossible to forget.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Zelda nods adamantly in agreement with Miriam, her gaze turning to the Old Man. ]

There, you see, Father? Just because you are gone does not mean I have simply forgotten about you.

[ The Old Man chuckles, waving one hand dismissively.

The reaction gets a noise of frustration out of Zelda, whose attention goes back to Miriam. ]

He's been quite convinced that I have forgotten all about him in the years since his death.

[ Which strikes Zelda as strange. During his life, Rhoam was never terribly concerned about his legacy; the prophesied threat of the Calamity dominated his attention. But tonight, he's made several off-handed comments about not being worth remembering, which is alarming, but also seems out of character for him. ]