#cag: event

[ofthcshvdes]

@cagliostrostart​ || Event 001: to topple a guardian. ? & Gabs (x of 5)

     She’s not a traditional fighter, by any means, but when her house is called to action Gabriella Ryu attends and pulls her weight. Her Mother is back down at the family manor, the rooms cleared and being used as a temporary storage facility for items that need to be transported up to the island to be used in the war effort. The Ryu family may have their ties to unsavoury practises in their everyday lives, but their love for their country and the folk that inhabit it overwhelms anything else.      Her appearance is entirely different from what she’d usually wear, she’s ditched the Louboutins for a pair of sensible boots, thick hardy clothing to protect her from harm and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She, of course, still wears makeup, rosy cheeks and a glossy lipbalm as well as mascara coated lashes that she stares out from under as she’s momentarily frozen in place, stunned by a blast from the Marionettist that had collided with her head on. Her vision is blurry, she can’t feel her limbs and her breathing is slowed, arms dangling limply at her side as she’s standing there, easy pickings for the beasts that circle the battlefield try and protect their master from the onslaught.

#cagliostrostart #cag: event #` gabs - starters *

[lastchanze]

what’s in your heart ?   ⸻ 

» 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 . . . » 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 ⸻ 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝟷 ⸻ » 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 ⌄

The entity’s body draped around her like a tapestry of shadows. “The she-witch! The demon!” it giggled. Its cobra-like wrap around Haeun constricts tighter with every word. “I remember all those names you were called,” it said. With a spineless slither, it released the warrior and loomed overhead with wide, soulless eyes. “Don’t you hate them? Don’t you hate this wretched kingdom for how everyone treated you, the poor little girl with acid blood?” it asked. “I think that I too, was wrongfully hated.” The Boundary back-and-forth like a desperate minnow, the conjuring of an old memory clearly upsetting the phantom. “Ah, but you want revenge, don’t you?” it said. “I am not your enemy, but your ally.”

𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗗. a word she never acknowledged. she didn’t need to acknowledge it when it was so elegantly curled around every inch of her, blended perfectly with who she was so that she didn’t even see it anymore when she looked in the mirror. it simply pervasively entrapped her. it kept her alone. it kept her hungry. it kept her in misery. it just kept her. 

she could drown in the implications of what the entity pushing buttons inside of her prodded at. it pushed her, it coiled around her, she could choke on those implications.

in an instant, the world peels away like chipped paint on a canvas and suddenly, she’s back in that soggy house, the deafening roar of wind beyond the walls threatening to drown out her senses even now. collapsing in on itself. her reality, the building. this is where she saved the girl; lydia, age 14, her mother was a baker at the local pastry shop. the choked groans from her lips still send haeun into shock. feeling hazy and out of place, she practically floats over, with none of the rush she remembered having. there’s rubble crushing lydia’s legs, and she reaches out for help and haeun’s instincts reach right back, a delicate gasp slipping from her lips. she only looks down at her gaping wound, the maroonish colored ichor that poured from her hands a moment too late. she had only wanted to help... the last thing she hears are lydia’s piercing screams, and then the ground falls out, and she’s plummeting down a black, bottomless abyss.

landing with a crunch on the ground, her entire body revolts, exploding in pain like a broken glass and shattering her senses in the progress. she’s suddenly slipping all over marble floor, the pools of her blood creating slippery puddles, denting the ground and slowly steaming. the room around her fills with an audience. mean darkness where faces should be, grim and ghoulish, shouting obscenities.

her head spins. she’s losing too much blood, but her panic and the burn of shame in her chest leashes her ability to control herself. to stopper the blood that pours and save herself. “please,” she begs and the humanoid chorus of darkness around her laughs, “i didn’t mean to.” she knows better than to ask for help. whether giving, or receiving, it’s a word that’s outside of her reach.

the worst of it comes then.

it’s in the broadness of his back. she’d missed it. this time she’s abruptly transported, without even so much a transition. she’s simply dropped right behind him, with her hands already extended, midway through the action of gouging into her arm, watching the blood spew and drench everything down. the faceless invader, her husband. she could have been sick, she opened her mouth to lose the contents of her stomach, to scream, to recall what it was like to breathe, but nothing surmounts from it. 

silence. she can’t make a sound. 

so her thoughts beg instead.

please. . .

her husband disappears, everything resets like chess pieces on the board and she’s standing on the checkered floor all alone. she’s heaving, hysterical without all of the waterworks or the blubber of sound. it’s all as raw and real as if it had happened yesterday.

hatred? did she feel hatred? it’s worse than that. it’s a hatred so synonymous with who she was that she was numb from it. like become accustomed to hot water she no longer recoiled and hissed, she no longer fought it. it just sunk in, bone deep, and left her steaming. she sobs and at last the song of it fills the room, a broken, wet sound. but not a sad sound, the emotion that fuels it is something else. something exacting, barely human. 

she’d do anything not to feel helpless again.

it’s why she tried to embrace her abilities recently. it’s what lead her to the house of vanitas, to the scars over her skin from learning what it meant to control this mess. this whole mess.

but it wasn’t enough. it never felt like enough. she crooned, wrecked, ill conceived at every corner, thinking that every shadow would once again grow a face. that any one of them could mount offense against her for the simple crime of existing.  

not even her assistance was wanted. then what did they want, if not her help, her kindness and earnestness?

her gaze glazes, her features melting into nothing, mind, breaks down. a thousand lightyears away. hopelessness in rage. rage in hopelessness. and in the darkness, it appears.

The Boundary approached her again.

“I want...just a piece of you,” it whispered. An outstretched hand reached for where Haeun’s heart should be. “I want it so badly, I swear to grant your wish.” As if stung, The Boundary recoiled back. It slowly disintegrated into darkness, leaving her alone in the nightmare where illusions and old memories lurked around every corner.

“Won’t you...accept my offer?”

she finally opens her mouth to speak it comes out in like a toad. “of course i hate them.” of course she does. how could she not? she sounded detached, vocally mellowed, like dry sand. “but i don’t blame them.” she reasons with it, herself. a last ditch to save herself.

shaking, inhaling, she swallows harshly. “i’m so angry all of the time ⸻ i can’t stand it. it’s so exhausting.” she lifts her palms, colored with thick blood like slowly drying oil paint. the color of it disgusts her. but she needs it. “are you saying you can really help me take control of this?” this anger. her fate. her fear. the urge to rip apart the glimmer of distrust in the face of everyone as she grew up. to be a kid and faced with such hate. it changes a person.

she doesn’t receive an answer. the offer was enough.

her heart plunges. what does she have to lose? not the love of her life. not herself; she can’t remember the last time she felt like haeun. “i don’t care. take whatever. just help me take control of it all.” all of it. she meant it. all of it, entirely, completely. she’s not foolish enough to think they’re allies. there’s likely to be strings. but if she takes the power, she’s more than willing to face the entire world, alone.

#softly but with a lot of feeling: frick #cag: event #e01 #got carried away #love to see it #dev: haeun.

[cagliostrohq]

END QUEST: THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE BOUNDARY

Nightmares ravage the townsfolk imprisoned in an enchanted sleep. But standing on the roof of Selphia’s clocktower are three figures who’ve evaded the spell. Above them is a gash through the night sky, a tear through the stars that leads to a stranger world. 

“Now would be a good time to plug that thing up, Rasmodius.” “What does it look like I’m doing, witch?” 

The Wizard of Whale Island commands a glowing staff of dreamstones which little by little, shrinks the portal above them. As he and The Dimension Witch focus on the skies, it is the Lady of the Wildwoods who assists the sleeping people below. 

Legions of woodland creatures, from the meekest of dormice to the bulkiest of grizzly bears have been equipped with pouches of magic sand. (Even if they must chew through your drywall, they will find a way to rescue you.) But a pinch of magic sand dusted upon the sleeper’s face is enough to break The Boundary’s spell. 

As the townspeople awaken, they creep outside to gasp at the shrinking abyss that’d taken over the night sky. It’s finally sealed through the wizard’s insurmountable effort, and he hands the dreamstone staff back to the Dimension Witch for safe keeping. 

“There, we’re out of immediate danger! That should hold The Boundary back for awhile longer,” grumbles the wizard.

“I’m concerned that we broke the spell before it completed its deals,” says the Lady.

“We shouldn’t worry about its revenge,” says the witch. “We have a bigger problem on our hands.” She peers down at the townsfolk below, ever the watchful observer to their lives. “Now, they all know that The Boundary can grant them their heart’s desire,” she says. “Thousands of people were promised to be made into kings and queens, to revive the dead, to have everything that’s ever tantalized them within their grasp. There will be those opposed to killing it until they find a way to finish their deal. There will be those who feel...we are lying to them about the true nature of that thing.”

The Lady of the Wildwoods and the Wizard of Whale Island exchange a glance. After all, they haven’t been entirely truthful, either. 

NEW FOE UNLOCKED: THE MARIONETTIST

Revenge comes swifter than expected.

Whale Island trembles in the sky, its levitating rocks emitting low-pitched rumbles. Has its time finally come? Will the floating island at last, fall and crush the town below in an act of destruction from The Boundary? It’s being pitched to the left, to the right, and bobbing dangerously quickly. Rocks crack, sliding off the islands underbelly and causing damage on the grounds below. And then, the quaking stops.

Rising from the depths of the Water Ruins is an ancient monster awoken from sleep. The remaining, faded words of Ath that’d been scratched out from the majority of the ruins begin to glow. This beast had long been a mere rumor, no more historically reliable than an old fairytale. 

The monster is a titan in size. Its appearance is that of a cloth puppet, its mouth sealed shut by four slapdash stitches. Movement makes the bells on its jester hat and shoes jingle. Psychic strings connect the creature to a wooden cross bar, which two giant, ghostly hands use to maneuver it. Occasionally, they will let go of the bar to directly attack whoever comes too close to the puppet. To defeat it, should one cut its strings or stab the hands? Or is there another way...?

Its presence seems to open small, one-way portals in which the townspeople cannot enter, but monsters can exit out of. Whale Island is now crawling with a monster infestation, and their temperaments are typically more foe than friend.

CAGLIOSTROHQ’S FIRST EVENT IS COMPLETE!

Thank you to all our participants! You’re welcome to write out your characters reacting to all these new plot developments in threads going forward. There’s no time limit for our events, so you’re free to respond to prompts and write new threads at your leisure!

There certainly is a mystery brewing, isn’t there! What’s the deal with The Boundary? What message was scratched out in the Water Ruins? And what have The Dimension Witch, the Wizard of Whale Island, and the Lady of the Wildwoods not been completely honest about?  Does it tie in with what’s happening to our skeletons? There seems to be a growing conflict of interest between them as they grapple with what to do with the golden bone!

Conspiracies over what comes next are encouraged! How will your character react to these new developments and what mysterious magics will we unearth next? See you in our next event to find out!

#cag: event #fantasy rp #modern fantasy rp #mystery rp

[xf-grxmviridicn]

the lure of darkness | event i.

dreadful confusion. it was the first thought, the first sensation to come to mind as the darkness with which cerenia now found herself came into being, enveloping her in perpetual shadow. had she taken a wrong path again? despite her knowledge of the boundary’s existence, just along the edge of the wooded area, gradually creeping forth to swallow all she may hold dear, cera had yet to know a place among them to be so abysmally empty. so devoid of life and feeling. it drew the very essence from her bones, dug into the marrow of her soul — a gnawing, almost painful stirring held in her gut.

⸻⸻ “oh, my little flower! haven’t you any thorns?” it screeched. the gaping abyss which was the monster’s mouth hung open, splits of golden light tearing through the shadows. the entity held out its shadowy tendrils, a steady trickle of black sludge falling to the floor.  ⸻⸻

it startles her, the frightful call from depths she cannot yet bear witness — not until the seeping light that marks its gaping maw shows through horrendously, cera’s doe eyes widening in abject horror as quivering lips struggle to spill the words that catch in her throat. she’s petrified to near silence save for the deafening pounding in her chest, her legs giving out the only sense of action her trembling form can manage right then. she wants to run. to hide in the warmth of safety, another’s arms. but there’s no one there to protect her, to shield her from this apparent nightmare. and in the moment she might imagine anyone at all, the sludge from which they’re born seems to warp and twist them enough to where they're no longer recognized. her sister, her father, the creatures she knew to be kind. they become malformed and mutilated, strange. unknown. she doesn’t want this anymore. the tears prick at the corners of her eyes, something like a sob slipping through her lips. much like anything else, it isn’t quite as it should be. she wants to go home. she buries herself in trembling knees, wrapping her arms around them as if they might aid her somehow.

“please .. let me —” her voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. her body felt drained, tired. “ .. let me go home. i want to go home.”

⸻⸻ “deep down, you know that you’ll never free yourself from those woods as long as your mother remains that thing,” it said. “does that thing even recognize you anymore? you can never stray too far, never go off on your own adventures! because in the back of your mind, you know the mortals can round up their pitchforks and torches to slay mommy dearest.”  ⸻⸻

her mother. the word seems to pull her from tears, drag her from despair briefly. whatever this horrid creature wished of her, certainly it wasn’t a spark of hope at the mere mention. she loved her mother, entirely. unconditionally. no matter what became of her, how the woman may hate some part of her, how the woman may curse her. cera’s love would pour through. she would save her. she knew it in her heart. no one would hurt her so long as cera could draw a shred of breath. she couldn’t stand it.

⸻⸻ the noxious ooze bubbling on the floor multiplied in size, mutating into the writhing hydra nora soteira had become. but, each head had the human face of cerenia’s mother. “c...e...r...a?” croaked the monster. the boundary levitated overhead, thrashing in delight above the twisted reunion.  ⸻⸻

the human chimera is repulsive, grotesque down to its very core. cerenia knew, of course she knew .. or believed she did, that this .. thing, wasn’t really the woman who held her, that kissed her goodnight, that showed her the world as she knew it still  .. but it had her voice. and began to hum the very song only she would know, albeit rather distortedly. still, it mimicked her music box completely. how could that be?

“.. mama.” she cries, reluctantly drawing near on stumbling feet, wishing to .. just to be closer, perhaps. “mother! i’m coming, i’m here!” it shifts, falling away from cera, crawling on distorted limbs. “.. mother, please wait. i’m coming, i promise! don’t .. don’t leave —” again. not again. she couldn’t bear it. not again. “m —” just then, as cera might be within reach, another figure draws forth, shooting up from the darkness in a way that has the woodland girl stumbling backwards, landing on her backside in a loss of balance.

staring curiously, the figure doesn’t distort as the others had, holding form enough to actually be known. and cerenia swears, there’s no mistaking him, “eras—” her voice breaks, tears forming again, and the figure shakes its head, a finger to its lips, as if to tell her not to go further. either in speaking or in following towards whatever thing the boundary created. cera finds herself in awe and ever so vaguely annoyed that even her subconscious couldn’t seem to disregard the man, the image of his memory, even as she swears he’s forgotten her entirely.

⸻⸻ “don’t you want to save her?” it laughed. “don’t you want to snip the last thing that tethers you to those wretched woods? or will you really deny your mother salvation, little rabbit? i know that all you’ve ever wanted is to be truly free.”

the boundary approached her again.

“i want … just a piece of you,” it whispered. an outstretched hand reached for where cerenia’s heart should be. “i want it so badly, i swear to grant your wish.” as if stung, the boundary recoiled back. it slowly disintegrated into darkness, leaving her alone in the nightmare where illusions and old memories lurked around every corner.

“won’t you … accept my offer?”  ⸻⸻

she had almost overlooked the beast residing with them still, completely mesmerized by what her mind dared to conjure, until the bizarre creature’s distorted speech ripped through and drew back honey brown hues. its misshapen form and trickling tendrils didn’t seem to alarm her as much anymore, however, a strength found within herself to deal with this figment of nightmare and imagination. even as it thought to approach and nearly touch her, her eyes shutting tightly momentarily and skin crawling at the very attempt.

".. no.” she begins softly, summoning her courage as her uncertainty wavers. “.. no, i won't. i'll find a way, you'll see. i have good people helping me. i won’t need to rely on you.” at this, cera seems to glance towards the shadowy make of her old memory, some semblance of what one could perceive as a smile apparent in their features. as it helps her to her feet and soon dissipates, presumably returning to where it came, cerenia’s focus shifts entirely to the boundary .. or whatever it might be. “now, shoo. go away, you rude, rude thing."

as if on command, the world of darkness distorts and disappears. cera is found on the forest floor, collapsed in a ring of light and curled in, peacefully slumbering and ignorant to the world.

#⸻ CHOOSE LOVE NOT IN THE SHALLOWS | tasks. #event ⸻ #the curious case of the boundary #cag: event

[disastercg]

“The little architect, dreaming up her own world,” the entity hissed. Its phantasmal body of cosmic dust and otherworldly mist slithers around the curse-breaker. The obsidian floors underfoot bubble, then raise Inna on a precarious network of slippery beams. “You never had a solid foundation underfoot, did you?” it laughed. “Watch where you step, my dear. It’s a long, long way down.” 

𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒   |    𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇  ;  𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖺 .

inna isn’t cursed with vertigo, and normally is no stranger to walking the metaphorical plank. but when she looks down, her worldview spins on axis. she’s reminded of something; she’s reminded of her home. where she grew up most of her life. those windows peered out into the fields and forest near their home. she would sit at the table for hours, all alone, looking out those windows and drawing the world around her. over time, she imagined more things there. she would draw those too. from imitating reality, to envisioning a new one.

as she looks into the abyss below, one foot lined behind another one on the beam high up, she’s home again. and now those windows she looked out of every day so fondly, are boarded up. she can almost see her father’s eyes in the darkness.

Blackened sludge poured from the entity’s abyss of a mouth, falling past the beams. From it rose the form of her brother; at first a healthy warrior, then the beauty of a Cursed Blood first bitten, and the inhuman stare of one who’d succumbed to the curse’s bloodlust. All the while, he begged Inna to save him.  

she didn’t understand why it was happening. from shock alone she teeters on the beam. she missed that face. her surprise and relief poisons. she’s afraid. 

“you look horrible,” sweetly, sadly, she tells her brother as she extends a hand, hoping to brush away the sludge, the wrongness of him, the very thing she came so far to fix. “yo-you aren’t yourself.” she was oblivious to how true that was, “you should have stayed put like i said. i’m trying so hard to fix this.” he’s begging now and she ignores it to continue a monologue, feeling all at once too deep in this, yet far away. “i don’t care what father said, i can do this. i will do this-- look, i found the wizard and i’m making progress.” she reaches her palm further to touch him, but it seems like he’s farther away every time she tries. “you should see all the things i can do now. i’m not the same girl. just come back h-ome,” her voice breaks, she recovers because she’s afraid to sound like a crybaby now. “why’d you leave? where i can’t reach you or save you then?” she finally snaps at his continuous begging. she takes a few bold steps forward and swipes her hand out with new vengeance, trying to scoop him up.

“It’s pointless,” the entity giggled. “No matter how far you extend your hand, you’ll never reach him. The gap between what you know and what you need to know is far too wide!” The golden cracks on the entity’s maw splintered further, as if it were split lips on a twisted smile. “If you found him, would he even recognize you? It’s so easy to corrupt these little beasts when they’re dying of hunger,” it said. 

it tells her the thing she feared most and she responds with violently shaking her head, as if trying to shake the notion away. her heart breaks with each shake, and each word that comes after. “shut up,” her fear is taking a backseat, frustration, not fear but sheer building terror, and a fair bit of anger. “you don’t know what you’re talking about!” she snarls quietly, becoming a little less human herself, out of breath, wisp of angry air escaping, “you weren’t there. he promised me he wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t leave. not when he promise. he wouldn’t forget her, or change. not when he promised, damnit. “you’re not him. you’re not my brother.” her voice is stronger than ever, “you don’t know how strong he is.”

“Or I could give you a cure to his affliction. Wouldn’t you like an easy cure? I’ll even let you study it to duplicate its ingredients, since you’re so desperate to save these pitiful, cursed things. How noble a wish yours would be!”

it stops her from the anger threatening to explode. a moment of resilient silence. how does it know her dreams? her fears, her future plans, her weak spots? it doesn’t seem fair. 

she’d be foolish not to consider it.

so foolish is she when she opens her mouth and with her typically soft and quiet mantle back in place, says, “i don’t need you,” she fists her hands at her sides, “i can save them by myself. my brother and anyone else who needs me.” she wraps her arms around herself, hiding behind oversized knit what she thinks might be doubt in her heart, “you’re not even real. just like you don’t know my brother, you don’t know me. you don’t know how hard i’ve studied or what i’m capable of.”

everyone is so quick to dismiss her. even herself sometimes. but not this time.

she closes her eyes, squeezes them shut until her eyelids are uncomfortable, her teeth gritting in the process. she’s leaving this place, if it’s the last thing she does.

she springs out of bed moments later, sweat drooling down the sharpness of her cheekbones and coating her neck and chest. her eyes go crazy in the night, scanning her room for the frightening sight that had just plagued her. but there’s none to be found. just the messy sanctuary of her room within the tower of rest.

it was close. too close.

with a sigh she bolts out of bed, grabs the book she had been reading before bed, and knowing she won’t be sleeping, heads to read it out in the common room. ignoring the way her chest aches and her heart won’t stop overbeating, her nerves and fear still clinging to the vestiges of her.

#cag: event #late but here #and lord #LORDT #this was a trip to write #loving inna hours

[ofglamour]

open starter for @cagliostrostart // the glitz blitz!

⸻ Dollie, the epitome of unbridled insensitivity and charisma, stands outside of the center stage in the midst of The Glitz Blitz, a knock-out style tournament hosted by the royals (as a rather bizarre distraction from the leak about human sacrifices, but we weren't going to go into that). Clutching a tiny microphone in her perfectly manicured hand, she gazes into the camera with a signature wide smile, unfazed by the grim surroundings of the fighting arena.

"And…we're back!" she chirps, her tone as chipper as a morning bird (a mask she'd worked very hard on putting up). "We're back with another electrifying round of The Glitz Blitz! The place where champions rise, hearts race, and warriors, like, totally kick ass! Speaking of kicks—you, like, totally haven't had spice until you've tried Giovanni's Spicy Beef Bulgogi and Gnocchi!" Dollie winks at the camera, her tone completely unbothered by the contrast between her lively promotion and the serious nature of the event.

With a swift turn, she directs her attention to the closest person nearby, shoving the tiny mic in their face with eager anticipation. "You! What do you think of the tournaments so far? Like, the thrill, the action, and, of course, the fantastic food recommendations!" She pauses to wink at the camera again, "It's like, a total rollercoaster of excitement, right?" Her false enthusiasm remains intact, even amidst the peculiar and unsettling environment around.

#♡ ― starter. / the city’s restless; they’re all around me. #cag: event 003 #this can be an audience member or a fighter or anyone! i tried to leave it open hehe

[babygirlhq]

mini event 002 - masquerade ball open - @cagliostrostart location: on top of a chandelier

Yes. Danny Reyes was dangling from a chandelier. His legs hooked into it, and the rest of his body hanging upside down, his bunny ears magically still on his head. The same bunny ears he bought only for the occasion when somebody would ask him what he dressed up as, since the rest of his outfit seemed like a completely normal one for another night out in Selphia. Such an occasion happened multiple times however, and by the end he just cowled, pointed at the white fluffy ears among his curls and said "I'm a bunny, asshole."

But back to the chandelier business. He couldn't really remember who it was that asked him to try and catch the Mirage Element, but he took it as a challenge. One stupid little vermin would not be better than him in teleportation!

Except he got stuck.

"I think I'm gonna hurl--" He muttered as the contents of his stomach threatened to come out from the unual position he was in.

#just imagine this gif is upside down dfmahsj #cag: starter #cag: mini event 002 #danny.

[axdently]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃-𝐃-𝐃-𝐃-𝐃-𝐃-𝐃-𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐄𝐋 !! ( IN A GLITZ BITZ EVENT ) ─── featuring: 𝒆𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒘𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 & @cagliostrohq

he’d delivered lethal precision with his Shard of the Sea dagger as it struck true, cutting through the heart of his challenger's offense. the Bloodstone Mask was nestled upon his face increasing his natural speed and agility, but the crowd could surely see the widespread grin and the glint of arrogance in the gleam of his sapphire eye-sling. the Blood Musket’s booms echoed his victory which were still reverberating through the grounds even after his much earned applause had died down. the pull of the trigger was used to hit the final nail in his opponent’s coffin. as he watched the defeat, Elrich spread his arms wide open as if welcoming an embrace of celebration. he jeers as deathly drops engulfed his adversary in corrosive Vanitas bloodstone rain.  the colosseum was his stage, and he was the undisputed star. he taunted with the crowd: sending a set sapphire winks to the maidens of the land and blew kisses to many of the men, as well. then he bowed–– mannerisms unlike an airship pirate once he was named the true victor. 

his pirate’s cape billowed with every gust of applause. the taste of success was sweet upon his tongue, and he reveled in the intoxicating high that surged through his veins. he felt invincible as he commemorated his conquest with a pint of ale–– a single round on him for all who’d shown up to honor him in the pub. “Having seen all the other fighters who do you think would be my strongest adversary for the next round? Don’t be coy, be honest. Consider showmanship, strength, speed, and combat skill.”

#cag: event 003 #cag: starter #cag: start #⸻ 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅-𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔 ; STARTERS.

[odiria]

open starter for @cagliostrostart // the glitz blitz !

⸻ In the midst of the spectacle, Odiria found herself stationed at a makeshift medical tent, tirelessly tending to the wounded gladiators and spectators who had fallen prey to the unforgiving battles. Sweat glistened on her forehead as she rushed from one injured person to another, her hands skillfully applying bandages and administering potions. She wasn't as experienced as Bryan, nor was healing her main discipline, but she'd studied enough to help where she could.

Royal banners fluttered proudly in the breeze, attempting to distract the crowd from the dark rumors that had been circulating ever since the letters were leaked. Her heart felt heavy with the knowledge of what loomed over the kingdom, but she had to focus on her duty. Her eyes bore a mixture of determination and compassion as they departed from one wounded warrior to the next. One by one, she assessed and tended to their injuries.

As the sun began to set and the roars from the crowd settled, her adrenaline had started to wane and exhaustion began to set in. She sinks into a seat on a nearby crate, eyes closing briefly to collect her thoughts, only for the sound of approaching footsteps to interrupt. Eyes fluttering open, her back straightening, she greets the figure with a gentle, forced smile. "Hello there," voice carrying a hint of warmth despite her fatigue, "Are you injured, do you need assistance or a place to rest?"

#this is awful #i'm tired and suffering #i'll tag it later dhsusdfh #cag: event 003

[hcark]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙 .

High is the grand sky's blazing eye, bringing light unto everything that toils below. Beautiful and picturesque it may be — he fucking hated it. Not a single cloud dotted the stretch of blue, so he's left sweating from both nature and so called nurture. Those that eagerly occupy the surrounding stands are all a bunch of twits. People and shades of all sorts, from all regions, have come here ( of all places ) to watch some glorified combat shit? Count him the fuck out.

No, seriously, count him out.

Please, he's nearly begging to slink out of public view and back into the shadows. There's a reason why he lurks in the gloomy nook of the Wildwoods, and it wasn't solely to avoid UV damage.

"Well, well, well." A brusque voice drawls, efficiently snapping Jebidiah back to the unfortunate situation at hand. "Never thought I'd ever get the chance to give your royal arseness a piece of my mind."

Recognition immediately sets in once his eyes slide back into focus. "Norbert, you singlehandedly bust the fuck outta the suggestion box before your stay's even up. Every single fuckin' time. Honestly thought you'd run outta shit to say, but nah— you got a landfill of horseshit to spew, don't'cha? Gonna flood the sewage and waste folk outta space if you keep at it."

A vein bulges from the middle of that awful sevenhead before Jebidiah's even finished. "The hell you know about business?" The man accuses, none too softly as a meaty finger's jabbed across the field. "Place's falling apart and the service's always fucking diabolical—"

"Then why do I keep seein' your sorry ass there, huh? Fuckin' get gone, you craggy sack of shi—" The man's flying towards him in a fit of rage. To which he doesn't find blame for. Not his fault the dimwit's got such a fragile ego, but none of that matters. What matters is the quickest way for him to get out of this stupid shit.

Which would've been a whole lot easier if this pissant wasn't intent on bashing his fucking skull in.

He's not sure where all the bits of metal come from. Seriously, the guy was exclusively wearing a tunic and trousers. No cool jacket with a million pockets or bag of holding-too-damn-much-shit. Norbert simply transforms into a metal plated goliath in a blink of an eye. Which means the direct blow to his ribs really fucking hurts.

The wind's knocked from him clean as he's sent sailing backwards. Whatever war cry the shitheel bellows hardly trumps the ringing that consumes his ears. By the time his body skids, the whole damn ground's shaking. Giant metalclad feet thunder in a frenzy to close the distance. And as much as he'd like to just lay here and tap out at ten seconds.. Something's telling him pissbaby Norbert won't fucking let him. So he tries his damndest to suck in whatever air he can. Somehow amp up the will to survive just as a patchwork foot shadows over him and stomps.

A roar of applause takes air as the metallic transformer opponent tramples the same spot twice more. Each time more victorious than the last. The fourth attempt was soaring back down with the foot's suddenly halted mere inches from the indented floor. Shocked and confused, Norbert tries to push down with all his might until a gasp interjects. Whatever was halting the stomp pushes back — shoves with enough force to offset the metal colossus' balance completely. Backwards the giant falls, crashing to the ground hard enough that tremors rattle the nearest seats.

"Why's it.. when I wanna be left the fuck alone— it's dipshits like you that fuckin' interfere?" A voice, one much deafening and guttural, shouts from earthen cavity. Two claw tipped hands grip the edge. Then three. Then four. Out Jebidiah emerges, transformed due to sheer self-preservation. Two ghastly horns, four wiry arms, and a pair of molten orange wings unfurl as he stands half slouched. Chest heaving out of exertion and growing rage.

"Just leave me the bloody fuck alone—" His body torpedoes forward in an instant. Doesn't matter if Norbert's almost on two feet again. Jebidiah latches onto the head, hellbent on tearing the metal plates apart. And he does. Even as hands grab at him, he makes enough leeway to see that chucklefuck's terrified face. There's no last word. No villainous monologue before an inferno shoots forth from his maw.

The shriek that ensues melds with the crumble of metal. They drop among the debris. One still lit aflame and the other cocooned in wings. Both continue move upon landing. Norbert squirms to extinguish the fire, and Jebidiah merely stands to watch. "Put yourself out n' stay down if you know what's good for you."

And to that fucker's credit, he fucking listened.

#cag: event 003 #* & jebidiah — inspo . #// idk what to take this in #// but NO DIDNT WRITE TOOTSIES

[ofthcshvdes]

      She knelt at the altar, head bowed with hands in her lap as she conveyed her thoughts to the Dragon Goddess, her worries, things she was grateful for, her goals for the upcoming days- all of the usual things she did when winding down from her daily chores at the shrine. Kimi’s concentration, however, was tugged at by the sounds of a heavy breathing next to her, she tried to ignore it before her eyes snapped open and her head turned to lay witness to that dark being hovering a few inches from the floor looming over to her. Eyes widened in surprise and the young girl fell backwards, catching herself with her left hand, saving herself from cracking her skull against the stone floor of the shrine.

"Kimiko, Kimiko, so cursed she's lost her mind and thinks she talks to the gods!" it spat. Like a roaring furnace, the entity's golden eyes scorched with intensity. "My little monster," it said, softly this time. "Your family can't bare the sight of a pitiful beast like you. But don’t fret, for I accept you as you are now." Its shadowy tendrils yanked the Cursed Blood into a suffocating embrace.

     She’s panicked, the beings words cut a harsh truth into her heart, but it’s nothing she hasn’t told herself before- was this thing merely a manifestation of her own pain? Her fears and doubts? She couldn’t be sure. A flinch and an audible squeak at the use of that word... monster, she truly was- wasn’t she? At least in the eyes of all those she loved, all those who’d turned their back on her since the attack. Eyes well up and she squeaks again as she’s wrapped into that chokehold, gasping for breath, tears streaming down flushed cheeks.

"How many others feel like you in this world, I wonder? Little outcasts, suffering all alone..." it said, shoving her away. "Don't you want to help them? I could make you a harbinger of peace, the final resolution. There would be no conflict you couldn't absolve, no tears you’d fail to wipe away, no heart you couldn’t heal."

      Cast away, she skitters across the floor, the impact causing her to unwittingly coat the shrine floor in a layer of ice that she slides across until she hits the wall with a dull thud, knocking what little breath she had out of her. She lay there, choking trying to gather herself, swiping at her cheeks with the snow-white sleeves of her Kimono, struggling to get even to her knees with the slippery mess she’d created on the ground.

The Boundary approached her again.

      Kimi tried to crawl away, hands slipping on the ice and knees dampening as it melted below her weight, however the being appeared to be unhindered by the hazard. Fevered eyes glance around, yet at her core she can feel a pooling calmness, she can feel the Goddesses warmth even here in this nightmare.      Nightmare... nightmare... Kimi was familiar with them, she had them almost nightly, yet she’d managed to figure out a tell for herself- a key that let her know when she was dreaming, something that let her know she was safe. Holding her hands to her face, she cupped them together and breathed into the space between her palms. In reality- mist would form, the temperature difference between her palms and her breath causing a condensation. She noted the due absence of mist and blinked slowly, before turning to look at the creature once more when it began speaking again. 

“I want...just a piece of you,” it whispered. An outstretched hand reached for where Kimiko’s heart should be. “I want it so badly, I swear to grant your wish.” As if stung, The Boundary recoiled back.

     A beaten fist against the floor caused spikes of ice to erupt towards the being, although it didn’t seen harmed, the warning was clear. “g-get away from me” her voice was quiet, fearful- yet firm “m-my loyalty is w-with the Goddess- n-no mat... matter w-what you think y-you know about m-me” she glares up at the shadow creature, tears pouring down her face, brow furrowed in pain and anger “there’s n-nothing you c-can say, that I h-haven’t s-s-said to m-myself... a th-thousand times!” She slams both fists this time, the iced floor cracking as loud as thunder spiderweb-like welts snaking across its surface and a thick, sheet of ice raises between them like a barrier “if I throw m-my f-faith away n-now, I’ll have n-n-nothing l-left!” Kimi uses her fists to push herself upright, tightening the green sash at her waist and standing tall, chin lifting despite her trembling figure and those tears that still flowed freely, staring the beast down with a fierce glare.

 It slowly disintegrated into darkness, leaving her alone in the nightmare where illusions and old memories lurked around every corner.

“Won’t you...accept my offer?”

     “I’ll accept nothing from you, demon” the first time she’s able to speak clearly, her breaths fall hard and ragged from her chest as though she’s run a marathon, but she’s resolute and her fists clench. It’s only a dream. She watches as it fades away through the ice, hands still trembling in their tights balls at her side. Then, the door to the shrine opens and her Mother walks in, calling her name, followed by her father, siblings, friends etc. They all carried gifts, offerings for the Goddess, chattering happily amongst themselves. It’s only a dream. However the lurking shadows in the darkness- a glinting of inhuman coloured eyes caught by the light of the torches on the walls. Kimi skidded towards the wall of ice she’d put up herself, hands splaying against it desperately as she tried to pound on it, to make noise. It’s only a dream. She tried to yell, her voice cracking pathetically as she punched and kicked at the obstacle between her and those she loved. It’s only a dream. However- she’d been foiled by the very thing she created, that ice wall- which usually would melt at her touch when she required, stood tall and strong. Kimi screamed and sobbed as she watched the cursed-bloods clamber out of the darkness and tear everyone to pieces. It’s only a dream. The young girl fell to her knees as she heard the blood-curdling scream of her Mother, clenching her eyes shut and pressing her hands over her ears, shrinking to the floor and sobbing. It’s only a dream.

     When the screaming finally stopped, Kimi sat there for a few seconds, still trembling and sniffling, before removing those hands from her ears and dropping them to her lap, where she felt her kimono was damp- soaking, actually. Eyes fluttered open and he looked down, her hands, clothes and bare feet were covered in blood. Flinching, she scattered backwards, ands and feet moving faster than they ever had with the surprise, before she collided with something cold behind her. A glance over her shoulder and she saw the wide fearful gaze of another Dragon Disciple on the other side of that ice wall.

“Kimi... what have you done?”

    Head turns slowly and she sees the torn up bodies of all those she loves, their cold, dead gazes all locked on her. A piercing scream echoes around her, reverberating around the walls of the shrine, amplified by the ice behind her.

If this was just a dream, why did it feel so real?

#cag: event #` kimi - event one * #tw: blood #tw: death #oh this was delicious painies

[bludstaind]

𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞. // closed event starter for @axdently

⸻ Her heart raced as she stepped out of the bathroom, the remnants of her panic attack still clinging to her like a shroud. The grandeur of the Masquerade ball enveloped her in an uncomfortable warmth, and her stomach churned with anxiety. She glanced around the opulent hall, her gaze darting from one masked face to another. The mask she wore was a feeble shield against the sea of unknown eyes, but it offered a modicum of solace. After losing control and killing a man in front of thousands, she had run off and hidden away with Viv on his peach farm, feeling too much like a monster, too afraid to face the world. Yet, here she was, forced to attend, the ach of longing for Benny at equal odds with her fear.

Across the hall, she spotted him standing beside Lenora, the one who had given Elia the push she needed to show up. Panic washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her in it's uncertainty. What if he didn't love her anymore? What if he didn't recognize her anymore?

What if he was afraid of her?

With each step she took, pushing past the swirling, masked bodies, the walk felt like an eternity. Finally, she stood before him, her trembling hands reaching up to remove her mask. Her lips quivered as she struggled to find the right words, her voice reduced to a whisper. "Dad?" Her voice broke, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry." The weight of her guilt and fear hung heavy in the air, a plea for understanding and forgiveness she didn't deserve in those simple words.

#cag: mini event 002 #the masquerade ball #thread : benny #❝ ⸺ 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 &&. thread. ❞

[ofeventide]

┋ ❝ — &&. 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭. ❞ // a self para for event: 𝟎𝟎𝟑. tw. mentions of blood, death, & general angsty-ness.

⸻ She stands in dark depths of the colosseum, confined behind cold iron bars, a prisoner of her own fate. Dim light filters through narrow slits and casts shadows across her face, fear clinging to her features like a malevolent specter. Her heart, an erratic drumbeat of trepidation, resounds in her ears and drowns out the cheers and jeers of the boisterous crowd beyond. She was now a lamb led to slaughter, her fate would be decided in the sand of the arena, already soaked red from blood. Her fear wasn’t for her own life, it was not the looming specter of death that gripped her heart, but the terror of being seen. Elia had known darkness intimately, felt the savage hunger that lurked beneath her skin; she trembled at the prospect of losing control, of unleashing the horror she kept shackled within.

The silver ticket weighed heavily in her trembling hand, a grim reminder of what was to come. She had been nominated against her very will, set up like a pawn in a malicious game, rigged from the start.

For a moment, she drowns it all out. The cheerful murmurs and excited chatter from the crowd, the clinking glasses, the scent of anticipation…She drowns it all out and pictures herself in a place she could be happy. Different images paint themselves behind her eyes, she finds solace in the warmth of her imagination. In one, she's home with Benny, their favorite movie plays in the background, and laughter fills the air as Benny burns the cookies he'd promised to make. Then, like a gentle breeze, the image shifts and she's in the orchard with Viv. The sun caresses their faces as they sit on the porch, hands almost touching, sipping peach lemonade and sharing stories. There's a spark in his eyes that makes her heart skip a beat, the comfort of his presence wraps around her like a soft blanket.

The scenes blend and blur into a faded image of the three of them, all together. She sees Benny and Viv, fitting together in her life like pieces of a puzzle. In a fleeting moment, the weight of her circumstances and the fear gripping her heart fades away, replaced by a glimmer of hope for a different future.

As the bars before her begin to rise, her heart sinks and she’s snapped back into reality. The metal screeches, grating against her nerves, echoing the gnawing dread within her. The signal had been given, her time had come, and there was no turning back. Her gaze fixates on the darkened figure of her opponent waiting on the other side, a formidable spirit warrior, their power an insurmountable force against her own. Breathing comes out in shallow gasps, fingers clenching and unclenching as the weight of the spectators’ eyes bore down upon her, a sea of curious faces and eager anticipation.

The iron bars finally clear their path, revealing the arena beyond, and she steps out into the stained sand. The air becomes electric with tension, the metallic tang of anticipation mingling with the scent of sweat and fear. Trumpets sound, and the roar of the crowd envelopes her like a thunderous wave. Her senses heightened, acutely aware of every movement, every breath, as she began her dance with death.

A barrage of blows, a whirlwind of power, each exchange a testament to the relentless fight for survival. Her opponent was skilled, adept at evading her scrying attempts, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Her movements become desperate, attempts at evading her opponents attacks only grow more futile by the second. Each blow lands with an unforgiving force, sending shockwaves of pain throughout her body. She doesn’t want this fight, doesn’t want the violence to escalate. She calls out to her opponent, voice tinged with fear and sorrow. “Please, stop! I don’t want to hurt you,” her voice trembles and she takes another blow, “I don’t…I don’t want any of this, I’ll tap out, I’ll surrender-” Her words echo through the colosseum, the crowd falling silent for a moment, before erupting into jeers and demands for the fight to continue.

Her opponent’s eyes remain cold and unyielding, the glint of victory locked into their gaze. They show no sign of mercy or hesitation, pressing their advantage with a relentless force. Each strike breaks her down further, and she struggles to keep her composure. She's desperate not to fall victim to her dark instincts, to let the monster within take control. Her opponents blows land with brutal force, each impact reverberating through her body, threatening to break her like a fragile doll. She tries to fight back, her movements fierce and desperate, but it’s clear that she’s outmatched and the cruel destiny of the arena is closing in around her.

Every hit she takes, every cut, every bruise, every broken bone, only serves to fuel the bloodlust within her. She can feel the savage hunger rising, clawing at the edges of her consciousness, tempting her to embrace the darkness. Her vision blurs with each blow, and the taste of her own blood becomes a constant presence in her mouth, and the crowd roars a cacophony of cheers around her. She can feel the weight of their expectations, their thirst for blood and spectacle, and her vision goes red.

Her scream echoes through the colosseum, a guttural cry of pain and rage, completely different from any howl of pain she’d released during the fight. It was in that moment that the fury unleashed, and her transformation began. The nightmare bursts forth, her body contorting and shifting, growing into a monstrous creature, a reflection of her cursed blood.

In the span of a moment, it all unravels.

She loses all self-control, all semblance of who she once was, and her opponent's blood fills her senses. It's a heady and intoxicating scent that sends her into a frenzy, the tantalizing aroma pulling at the deepest recesses of her being, awakening the monster within.

She fights with a ferocity beyond comprehension, fueled by an insatiable hunger that burns in her throat. Each strike she delivers is a cry for release, for freedom from the torment that binds her. She tears into her opponent with wild abandon, her claws sinking deep into flesh and bone, blood splattering in every direction.

The colosseum falls into a stunned silence, the weight of what they've witnessed settling in like a suffocating fog.

And there she stands, drenched in crimson, her nightmare form unleashed upon the world. In that moment, she is a creature of the night, a monster born of desperation and pain. The woman she once was, now lost int he turmoil of her own bloodlust, her mind a blur of chaos and destruction. It's a transformation she never wanted, a fate she never asked for.

The crowd watches in horrified awe, their gasps and whispers barely audible to Elia against her own heartbeat. Once a girl, now a tragic figure, a vessel for the darkness that consumed her.

She stands there, no long as Elia, but a shattered soul with blood on her hands, the truth revealed to everyone in the audience.

#cag: event 003 #— when my time comes / forget the wrong that i've done. ( self para ) #i'm sorry y'all this is so bad but i tried :(

[cagliostrohq]

PROLOGUE

i. Once upon a time, a goddess betrayed knew she would soon die. She dreamt a final dream, her heart’s final wish that it would transcend time and circumstance. In this dream, the goddess with golden hair and gnarled horns meets with someone who will not be born for thousands of years, THE TRUSTED FOLLOWER. ( “Ah, so that’s what she wanted,” the goddess said, upon noticing Kimi’s mark of a Cursed Blood. “I must ask you a favor, little one. If any trace of me exists in your era, you must cast it into oblivion. You must destroy what is left of my body. @ofthcshvdes​​​)

ii. Today at sunset, a locked box is delivered by THE LOST DREAMER. The nondescript, wooden box is left on the doorstep of The Dimension Witch’s wish-granting shop. She entrusts it to THE UNLUCKY CHARM ( “I’m stepping out for the night. Make sure to finish the rest of those chores, will you?” she cheers, flushed from a downed bottle of wine. “If you work through the night, you should have them done by morning! All-nighters at your age can be invigorating. Oh, and Kamille? Keep an eye on that box for me.”  @littorecus​​)

iii. Come nightfall, the moon’s pewter light shines through the shop windows and onto the box. Its many locks come undone and the wooden lid ricochets into the air. Inside the box were the bones of a ring finger made entirely of gold. It darts like a silverfish, escaping the store and putting up a fierce chase to the beanstalk that leads to Whale Island. As if it were alive, it scrambles up the stalk faster than any hot air balloon service could rise to the island. It taps on the door, answered by the WIZARD’S APPRENTICES. Rasmodius is not home; but in an unusual fashion, he left confidential research where Tristan and Inna could see it. (”Research indicates the possibility of forcing The Boundary into a physical existence, ergo allowing it to be slain. For the creation of an artificial body, its components must be strong enough to withhold the entity’s magic,” the papers say. “Further research is required, but I hypothesize the golden bones of a goddess will be a key ingredient.”  @trisztan & @disastercg​ )​

                                 [ Do you accept this chain of events as fate? ]                                         → I ACCEPT.                                            WHAT OTHER CHOICE IS THERE?

BEGIN QUEST: THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE BOUNDARY

Tonight, the citizens of Selphia, Cagliostro are lured into an enchanted slumber.  Panicked townsfolk fight the lull of sleep in fear it’s one of The Boundary’s curses. They are right to be fearful. You are confined in a nightmare and figure cloaked in viridian approaches with a bowed head. This isn’t right. The mortals cry out in fear, the warriors are immobilized, the shades kneel against their will, and those of cursed blood fall prey to most maddening sense of bloodlust they have ever felt.

Perhaps, you are brave enough to take a swipe at the figure. Your hand glides through it. A shiver races down your spine, tracing each vertebrae like the lingering touch of a lover. “I...was...waiting,” it says. It is more distortion than a voice, a disharmony echoing from the husk of a dead cosmos. The sound eludes your worldly comprehension; nothing earthly could be comparable. 

Its hands are phantom shadows, caressing the sides of your face with almost loving intent. When the green cloak’s hood falls back, you get a good look at the nebulous entity. It cocks its oblong head, baring eye sockets leading nowhere. A pinprick of gold light shines in their centers, but it’s growing rapidly at the sight of your face. It dilates like a predator’s pupils until that retched golden light has burned your vision. “There is...something you want?” it asks. 

The Boundary smiles. It lacks a true mouth, but the cracks of gold splintering from the gluttonous abyss on its lower face give the impression of split lips. It slithers above you, body like black hole leeching light from dying stars. The terrain changes all around you; illusions are cast, precious memories warped, and the contents of your life are dumped out like the kicked-over toybox of a selfish child.

“I...can give it...to you.”

CAGLIOSTROHQ’S FIRST EVENT IS HERE!

This begins the first half of our event! Members, please check your inboxes to soon find your customized first meeting with The Boundary. They are gradually being sent out after this posting, so keep an eye out during the next few hours. There is no time limit to respond to it, so please have fun and go at your leisure! 

Tomorrow (7/16), we will post the second half of our event. It will reveal a plot development that effects everyone and will open the floor for general event threads!. This is quite the set-up for a perilous adventure! What will our heroes do next? Stay tuned to find out! 

#cag: event #fantasy rp #mystery rp #paranormal rp #appless rp

[icharchivist]

No Rain No Rainbow was SO soft and gentle. Ladiva is the best chara and she makes me feel so happy and warm and fuzzy.

the thematic of the events struck a core in term of how personal it got so i can’t say too much about it but man. man.!!!

i do admire and appreciate that this is the type of topic Granblue wants to explore and acknowledge.

And i do love that they use Ladiva as this unconditional love, both that gives it and recieves it, because man. she deserves it. And i’m just glad her character is so... so loved by the story.

loved it.

#ichablogging gbf #ichablogging norainnorainbow #tho i was lied to i was told the convo with cags was in this event DKJFDKLFJ #i wonder where i can find it then. An FE i suspect? #i think i have most of Ladiva units so i gotta read them... someday...

[disastercg]

“Ah, the one who hears whispers all around him!” laughed the entity. The entity’s body of shadows lurched forward, tendrils of darkness curling around the medium’s shoulder. They slithered like snakes, a trail of noxious sludge left behind from their touch. “Around the clock, you hear their endless begging and pleading!” it said. “Your family gave you no support, didn’t they? Who could blame them? It’s not normal to hear the dead...ringing in your ears...never giving you a moment of peace.” The entity reared back, its sagging neck poised like a cobra about to strike. “I could answer your heart’s desire, Niko,” it said. “You wanted to change the world, didn’t you? Don’t you want the power to make people’s lives less miserable, so the voices won’t taunt you once they’re dead? Life is short and fleeting, my little medium. I understand this, and want to give you the power to do the good you always craved deep down.”

𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒   |     𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘪𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘮  ;    𝗮 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗶𝗸𝗼  .

he’s walking the halls of his family home. but like a maze, the walls don’t seem to line up, rather than the rectangle they came together to make in his childhood, they seemed to reassemble into a senseless mass of never ending halls and deadened rooms.

without meaning to, he stumbles upon his mother as she minces some leek and shallot. she looks taller than him, strangely, he feels like a kid again, peering up at her by the dinner table, with her yellow apron on, and her kind features when she looked over the table. “ah, niko honey,” she says over her shoulder and waves her hand with the chopping knife. he can hardly see her smile, only the gentle shine of her eyes, “help me set the table, please. your father will be home from work soon.” 

he nods, obediently, but he’s always happy to help her. it made him feel important and smart, like a grown up. he reached for the plates she had set in a stack on the table (the work already half done for him, but he never noticed it that way. the way she made it easier for him to feel important, to help) his short reach making it a requirement that he has to lean onto his tiptoes. grabs the plates in hand, ceramic, not heavy, but requiring his focus not to drop.

he hears it then. the moaning, unprompted, low and gargling moaning from somewhere over his shoulder. it gives him a start and he turns around quickly, only to spot nothing. silence for a second and he whines to his mom only for her to ask what he was talking about. just as he’s beginning to think he imagined it, from thin air, manifests a shrill scream, only muffled, like the air was a blanket, covering a figment from view, or a hand over the mouth of nothingness. it’s so sudden, so ambiguous and frightening, that he drops the plates and they shatter onto the ground. it scares his mother, it hurts his foot and cuts his shins, and he remembers how it lead to a trip to the hospital, and then to a psychiatrist. 

in subconscious effort to avoid it all, he flees from the room, shins and feet bleeding, tears streaming down his cheeks.

as he enters the hallway, he feels taller again, suddenly eyelevel with the grandfather clock that normally stood nearer to his room than outside the kitchen. nothing is where it should be.

this time, it’s an out of body experience. he almost passes by the door that should have been the downstairs bathroom, but instead and unexplainably, seems to be his bedroom. he stands at the doorframe, watching himself, teen aged and sitting on his bed with a friend from school. he remembers this project for science class, he remembers the pretty girl sitting next to him too. talking to him about the electrical currents they were building a board for. but he’s entranced looking at himself instead, staring into the eyes of a version of his youth. that far away look, narrow pupils, muscles of his jaw jumping as he attempts to bite back the frustration. he can’t even hear it this time, but he knows none the less what’s happening; he remembers it. the screams and cries of the dead, drowning out the living right next to him, drowning out his thoughts, driving him insane.

help me. you can hear me can’t you. look at me kid. please. i can tell you his name; i know how killed me. he can’t get away with it. he lives in the building, please kid. i need you! fucking do something!

the niko of the seventeen breaks, cups his hands over his ears and releases a broken exhale. and he feels embarrassment even now, as real as the one across from him, when the pretty girl from class, offended, flees from him with a scoff and tears in her eyes.

how long had it been ruining his life?

since he can barely remember.

the next room he enters should be the living room but instead is a wing from his college. after he had learned of his affliction, after he became damn decent in divination just to make the world a little bit quieter. he’s back in his own body now, clutching the leather bracer on his wrist where his dreamstone is embedded. he manages to tune out the whispers properly for the first time in his life, as he listens to his professor discussing the outstanding quality of his submitted paper on the psychopathy of mental illness and it’s relevance to crime. he nods his head and attempts to convey how grateful he is for the compliment, only managing to seem sincere because for the first time in his life, he’s able to hear the living just a bit louder than the dead.

looking down at his feet, the snake that slithered between them on the ground, winds around and comes to a stop in front of him. 

it’s only in that moment, the tour ends and he realizes the dreamlike, horrible quality of what he was experiencing. like an epiphany. 

“i’m dreaming.” he clarifies to himself, and nods his head. but the realization alone isn’t enough to pry him from the nightmares cold, sharp claws. the snake machês into a creature, a shape of disorienting everythingness and nothingness all at once.

The Boundary approached him again.

“I want...just a piece of you,” it whispered. An outstretched hand reached for where Niko’s heart should be. “I want it so badly, I swear to grant your wish.” As if stung, The Boundary recoiled back. It slowly disintegrated into darkness, leaving him alone in the nightmare where illusions and old memories lurked around every corner.

“Won’t you...accept my offer?”

he thinks for so long, the nightmare becomes a waiting room, where he’s held the ill omened thing before him hostage as well. queued up for an answer. 

“the thing is,” niko begins slowly, looking down at his feet, hands in pockets like he was gearing up to step out into the world on a windy day, head down, collar up, “for as long as i can remember, everyone has needed things of me. wanted shit from me at every corner. harmless shit. stupid shit. life defining shit,” he adds with a humorless half smirk, “death defining shit.” his heart thinks of the offer, a piece of himself for the chance to fix it all; his heart pauses in thought even longer than he had. “everyone is always getting a piece of me. at this rate, i don’t have anything left over.”

he doesn’t feel fear when he looks at the boundless manifestation of deep and dark possibilities. he feels the same thing he always felt, day in and day out; a sense of anesthesia, like there was no fight left in him, just the presence of mind to understand the real, honest to god, bleakness of the world. “the truth is, nothing fucking matters.” he laughs at that, a squelching, wet, miserable sounding laugh, “there’s no justice in this existence. we’re all shit. our bodies will feed the ground and if we’re lucky. if we’re lucky, we'll be reborn to do it all again. if we’re unlucky, we get to be stuck here, in between somewhere. depressed, angry, unheard.” he’s over it all. “isn’t that something to look forward to? live a good life and have a good death. or live shitty, and fate will fuck you again for eternity.” 

well shit, when he says it all like, it’s so shitty he could laugh at the absurdity if the reality of it hadn’t made his life a living hell forever.

“so you’re asking me if you can help me change the world?” he shrugs, “i don’t even know how to do that yet. one step at a time, i guess.” the squint he comes up with is this; judging, dissenting, denying, mocking, dry. “you’re telling me there’s some easy fucking solution to all that?”

he does laugh. a yelp of sound that hurts his ears in this echo chamber where he only now realizes, there was no whispers, no screams, no cries. ah, it really, truly was a dream. “that’s such bullshit.”

“there’s no quick fix for this shit. that’s the truth.” and his face drifts back into matte existence, neutral, exhausted, accepting. “that’s your answer right there, asshole.”

and that’s the only answer he can come up with.

#not kidding this is twice as long as inna's #aSDKFJALDSF #oops #cag: event #I LOVE ONE MAN IT'S TRUE #niko best boy in the world #<3