he ate my heart

[reddosmod]

AUGUST 2022 EVENT

EXTRA WARNING:

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: The shore line lit up by some sort of bioluminescent organism. ]
[Image Two: A sunken pirate ship covered in algae, seaweed, and suffering from wood rot. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A tentacle wrapping around a persons hand. ]
[Image Two: A close up of someone's shoulder which is turning black and cracked and dripping water. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A statue of a human face, split in half, with a golden devil mask between the two halves. ]
[Image Two: A number of golden hands reaching up for a white sphere. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

WE GLOW SO DIM

WHEN: August
WHERE: The Ocean
CONTENT WARNINGS: Deep diving, possible drowning, possible death

---

Early on in the month, the waves start to have a strange look to them. They seem a little brighter, even at night, and it's then that it hits you: the waves are glowing. It's easy to at first to brush it off as the bioluminescence of certain types of plankton, but the way it moves and sparkles has an other-worldly quality to it that can't be explained by science. Those who look even closer at the glow will notice that it seems to be forming some sort of path into the watery depths.

Those who choose to follow the path despite the angry waves and awful storms that plague the seas this month will find that the ocean seems to be at its calmest along these illuminated, watery roads. Diving down to follow them won't require any equipment, as Sleepers will find that staying within the glowing path allows them to breathe under water when they might normally not have been able to. The pressure changes don't seem to be impacting anyone who follows the light either, allowing them access to deeper depths of the ocean than may have previously been explored.

Continuing to follow the path will lead Sleepers to a series of ship wrecks under the water. These ancient vessels are rotted and covered in seaweed, but anyone who is familiar with the cultures of Earth will notice that they seem to come from all over the world and their styles vary by multiple centuries. But all the ships seem to be covered in this same, strange glow that has brought people here.

Exploring the ships will lead to multiple different discoveries. There are chests filled with ancient artifacts: carvings of squids, statues of various sea creatures that feel a little off somehow, and stones carved with a strange text that is almost impossible to decipher. The artifacts are covered in strange, rust-looking stains that penetrate deep into the materials they're made of. These artifacts can be brought back to shore, and if someone were to try and ask the Trenchies what the writing said, they would only be able to say that these are clearly texts of the Old Ones from long before any recorded history that Trench has in its Archives. When asked about the sea creatures, they'll think it's obvious: these are Mariana's various forms from over the years. The off qualities are her unique takes as a Pthumerian on the creatures of the ocean.

Prolonged exposure to these statues of Mariana will cause people to become more bluntly honest, more open with their emotions, and often much more prone to large outbursts from said emotions, both good and bad. However, Sleepers who keep these statues near them will also find that they are able to keep more control of their blood powers. It's up to each individual if it's a worthy trade off.

If you leave the path, two things can happen: Sleepers will either turn into their squid selves and can continue to swim or they will drown. There will be nothing of interest outside of these paths, just typical ocean creatures, and maybe some of those monsters that have been crawling out of the watery depths as of late.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

MONSTER WITHIN

WHEN: August
WHERE: All over
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body horror, mentions of potential cannibalism/vore, possible death, contagious curse

---

Soon after people start to explore the ships, a strange occurrence will start to sweep through the city. Locals start to mutter something about a curse, one that seems to only be impacting Sleepers. The early signs that there's something off is an increase in strength and stamina. For example, Sleepers will find that they might go to pick up a chair or a mug and it shatters in their hands. Some people may find that they are incapable of sleeping. Others might find they're able to move quicker and for longer periods than normal.

If they look themselves over, they will start to find small patches of skin that have started to gray and blacken. These patches will be cracked, almost scaley, and will be consistently damp no matter how hard you try to dry them off. As time passes, this odd rash will start to spread, taking over more and more of the body. The torso might start to swell and distort, making Sleepers feel particularly top heavy. And eventually, suckers will start to form on the arms and legs.

This curse isn't beasthood in its usual forms; instead, it seems to be some sort of malady in of the magical blood that Sleepers have been granted. If the blood of an infected Sleeper is looked at under a microscope, there will be black patches clinging to the cells, similar to the patches that people see on their skin. If it isn't stopped, the person suffering from the curse will ultimately turn into a monstrous form of their squid-selves: these monster forms are large, aggressive, and able to move on land. They will feel a hunger for destruction and some Sleepers may find in these forms that they are only satisfied if they feed on other, uncursed Sleepers.

There are two ways to lift the curse. One is through a thorough blood transfusion with a blood type that is compatible with your own. This becomes more difficult to do the closer to the monstrous form people get, both due to aggression from the curse, and also due to the fact that the black patches of skin are highly difficult to puncture. Once the blood is completely replaced by fresh blood, the skin patches will disappear over 48 hours and the Sleeper will be left feeling thoroughly exhausted.

The second way to lift the curse is through death. While these monster squid forms are difficult to kill, it is not impossible, and they are particularly susceptible to magic over weapons. Once a Sleeper has died, they can be reborn, and their blood will be completely free of the curse.

The blood malady can be spread outside of those who come into contact with the ship wrecks. People who touch a cursed Sleeper, particularly the scaley patches of skin, will also run the risk of being cursed. It takes roughly a week for the signs of the curse to show, and can spread as slowly or as rapidly as players choose.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

LAVISH DESIRES

WHEN: August
WHERE: All over
CONTENT WARNINGS: Personality changes, mental manipulation, hoarding, obsessive anxiety, disassociation, depersonalization

---

The high waves seem to just be getting higher at the beginning of the month. Rougher and rougher seas start to cause something anyone who's lived around water will be familiar with: flash floods. These floods are large, powerful, and fill the streets of Trench. First-floors of buildings may get extreme damage, though they can be protected with physical and magical barriers if people are smart about it. The floods happen multiple times throughout the month without warning, so it may be good to get that protection built up sooner rather than later.

The after effects of these floods aren't just structural devastation though. People who get caught up in the water, particularly those who end up swallowing it, will have one word echoing in their mind on a regular basis: More.

More of what? That seems to be different for each individual. Maybe one person wants more and more food, anything from an extra slice of cake after dinner, to wanting to stuff themselves until they just might pop. Or maybe they want to hoard all of their favorite objects or pieces of clothing, filling more and more of the space in their homes until they're ready to burst at the seems. Some might find it's their emotions that come in excess, with over the top anger, or irregular excitement that leaves them unable to sleep for days. Anything and everything can come in excess and it certainly seems to be this month. Some people may get these obsessive needs to such a degree that they start to feel disconnected from themselves, fractured by the overabundance that has taken over their lives.

If people ignore these desires, they'll start to find they're plagued by hallucinations. Strong, life-like visions that riddle them with anxiety and leave them petrified of what might happen if they don't partake in this gluttonous behavior. They'll feel shaken to the core and slowly go mad with need and desire for whatever it is they've been craving. This feeling of madness can make them become violent, lashing out at those around them, even killing those who try and help them out of belief that they're trying to force them to give in to their vices.

The impact of the water will wear off either after one week without re-exposure, or by using a Moon Drop to help to cleanse the mind.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

Mercymorn the First | The Locked Tomb

[acidjail]

i. bad blood (monster within)
[ cw: body horror, medical horror, body transformation ]

You are afflicted.

Perhaps you already know this. You've noticed the minor signs, or the major ones, and perhaps you even have some idea of the fate that awaits you at the end of your slow transformation. Perhaps the changes, so far, have been so slight that they have not yet seemed to be changes, and you are blissfully unaware of what waits for you.

Whichever is the case, if you find yourself somewhere in the city alone at night, your disease-ridden blood may catch the attention of a stranger. From around a corner or out of a shadow, a short figure in a dark cloak steps forth.

"You're contaminated, you know," she says, in a high, fluting, critical voice, "Been mucking about in the ocean, I expect? Or exchanging - fluids - with who knows what, and who knows when? The absolute state of you all - well! It is only to be expected."

A delicate, pale hand is thrust towards you impatiently.

"Blood type, and your hand, if you please!" Woe says, in displeasure, and even with her face hidden away from sight, her sour pucker scowl is somehow palpable.

ii. new blood (lavish desires)
[ cw: body horror, medical horror, obsessive behavior ]

Even those fortunate enough to be spared the ocean's spreading curse are not free of Woe.

Sleepers with untainted blood may find themselves, too, beset by a short, dark-cloaked stranger, who steps out of an alley way or recessed nook and plants herself in the path of her latest target. She looks you up and down with a sharp jerk of her unseen chin and utters a pronounced, exasperated 'hmph!'

"Adequate," she announces, without preamble, cutting to the point like a machete through tall grass, "Blood type and associated novel capabilities? Five hundred words or less, if possible - and an estimate of your current donor capacity, expressed in percentage of total blood volume."

iii. contact/wildcard
[ You can reach me by PM or at terriblepurpose to chat or discuss a wildcard! Permissions here. ]

ii.

[sink]

Silco is on guard at being accosted, shoulders tensed, hand creeping towards his bag where a small blade is stashed for occasions such as this — but the small figure speaks so brusquely that any concern for his life is immediately forgotten.

His good eye narrows from wide startlement. "Vileblood," he says in a slow rasp, because he knows that much. "But I've already been emptied out and filled up once this week—" to cure the exact sickness, in fact, so he suspects he knows what she's asking for. "So I doubt I can be of much assistance." Dismissive. Deciding on his own that he can't help, so any further information (if he was even inclined to give it to this stranger) is pointless, unnecessary.

[acidjail]

If she notes the aborted reach for a blade, the stranger doesn't show a sign of it obvious enough to be seen through cloak and shadow. She emits a short, buzzing 'hm!', like cut wire, and tips her head.

"Evidently!" She says, waspishly, wagging her head like such an insect would waggle its tail in preparation of a sting. "Given that you only managed to answer two of three questions - is recalcitrance an acquired trait, or a inherent one? Hm? Oh, don't answer," with a brisk slice of her hand outward, a dismissive sweep, "Do you know how you contracted your recent affliction?"

[sink]

"Diving," Silco says, finding this attitude equal parts amusing and annoying. "Or so I've been told. Apparently the bioluminescence that allowed us to breathe underwater wasn't safe for ingestion after all." Who woulda thunk it, his tone dryly seems to say. It didn't bother him, he's been swimming in toxic waste since he was a kid.

[acidjail]

"People hardly ever think about what they put into their bodies," she says, but something about his attitude apparently mollifies some of her sharper edges. Her tone is still nothing close to cordial, but some strands of condescension are cut loose and fall away.

It's nice to know she isn't the only one who thinks all of this is a bit tedious.

"A primary exposure..." she steps closer, thoughtfully. "How far did your symptoms progress, and over what timeline?"

ii

[faceblocks]

Adequate? What's adequa--

[there is no time to finish her question before vi is cut off by the rest of this person's demands. (requirements?) they certainly sound like demands. she has never seen this sleeper before - which is to be expected because trench is huge - so the woman gets a slightly exasperated sigh in response before:]

Are you with the blood drive, because I already did that.

[how is this woman's enthusiasm somehow coming across as disappointment? also she is in the way. and so vi attempts to sidestep her, because she has somewhere to be.]

[acidjail]

[ The woman moves with a step as neat as closing shears to match Vi's attempt to swerve past her. She clucks her tongue, a sound that manages to be sharp and hard, a tossed stone pinging off a metal gutter. ]

I am not 'with' any of those idiotic primitives. [ She says, dismissively. ] One of three, and barely.

[ She slows her voice, not kindly. ]

Blood type? The category those leeches siphoned the contents of your veins into? Surely, you paid some attention?

[faceblocks]

[just ...blinking at that tongue cluck there. tilts her head and just stops. before attempting again to sidsestep. it's as if they are dancing, but no fun in it and these steps are all avoidance and annoyance.]

I know what a blood type is. What I don't know is why you need to know mine? [but she answers anyway, because the look on this woman's face.] Vileblood, okay?

We good?

[she makes a last attempt at cutting this short - leans left as a fakeout and then makes a move for the right. this should totally work.]

[acidjail]

[ The stranger doesn't even do Vi the courtesy of pretending to be deceived by the feint. She huffs through flared nostrils, the dusty, diminutive nose clearing of a mammalian predator low to the ground, and matches her rightward step. ]

For research!

[ There's no particular directed aggression in her shrillness, which is the best that can be said about it. ]

For effecting some form of understanding greater than - slopping great buckets of mixed secretions here and there, which ought to be killing people, you know - but of course, you wouldn't, would you? No - Vileblood. Immune to poison, allegedly. Unusual physiological effects, differing from ingestion to topical application...

Were you ill as a child? More of one than you are now.

II

[chessboardturn]

"Uh. Adequate? For what?"

This is not how he planned on spending his evening. Getting accosted by weirdoes in a darkened portion of a city street is generally never a good time, right? It takes a second for all of her words to click.

"...is this about the whole curse thing? I feel like you'd have better luck leading with that."

[acidjail]

"Zero of three!"

The woman is frankly amazed, something she conveys in cocked back shoulders and openly wondering tone, as if impressed by this feat she announces in brittle, impatient fashion.

"I am not seeking luck - I am seeking, somewhere, in this city, a person who is capable - of answering - three questions!" She says, in a brisk outpouring. "Not complex ones! Plain facts! How much luck could I need? Perhaps you can answer one question at a time, hm??"

[chessboardturn]

Battler purses his lips and leans back a little. The fact that she's being a little irritable is probably justifiable, but he wishes she wasn't doing it with a machete in her hand. That's kinda dangerous, isn't it?

"Uh, I'm a darkblood," he finally says after a moment of thought, "And I'm the Endless Sorcerer, but I don't know how much that really matters here..."

He scratches his head, "Why do you want to know, anyway?"

[acidjail]

The woman is a-goggle, which is her own implausible feat, given that the invisibility of her eyes inside her hood should prevent any impression of their gogglement in any respect.

"The Endless-!!" She shakes her head, sharply, her hands balling into convulsive fists at her sides as she takes a breath that puffs her up on all sides.

"I am," she says, in tones that suggest the barest tether of restraint at enormous personal hardship, "Conducting a research survey, Darkblood. And it isn't for you to decide what may or may not be relevant!"

"What are you an endless sorceror of? Be concise."

ii

[facultative]

If she had meant him ill-will Anakin would have known before she stepped out in front of him. He's still surprised, but he doesn't jump to reaching for a weapon.

"I-- I don't know."

Three words is under her required length and he's answered all of her questions at once.

Anakin Skywalker has been in Trench for nearly a year now and still has yet to learn of his blood type. Or any of them.

[acidjail]

"Of course you don't," she says, with faux understanding, the falseness of her sympathy heavy on her tongue - something that might have more sting if not followed by a flatly pronounced, "Eugh!"

She brings folded hands up to the bridge of her nose and takes a hissing inward breath, as if in some furious prayer, and makes another attempt.

"Then you are fortunate, for I will assist you. Give me your hand." She extends hers out expectantly, wiggling her fingers in further enticement. Trust her, strange boy.

[facultative]

As cantankerous as Anakin could sometimes be, he was usually surrounded by people who were more than happy to coddle him. Her reaction is unfamiliar and as a result he automatically moves to do as she asks.

Will he regret this? Possibly.

"What are you going to do?"

[acidjail]

Finally. Compliance. She is not even ungentle with his hand, though she is firm, pressing the pad of her thumb to its center and furrowing her brow as she sends a clean pulse of thalergy into his skin. If all goes as it should, it will echo through him and returns back to her rich with information about his health and his blood type – but she has faced challenges, which begin with her having to touch him at all to achieve this.

“I am going to assess you, and I am going to see if there’s anything of you that’s of use. Be still.”

Re: Bad Blood

[madgamerhat]

The old man tilts his head in confusion. What is she talking about? He hasn't noticed any changes in particular for being overly focused on the raging waves.

"Excuse, me but what do you mean contaminated ?"

He stares at the stranger- unsure whether or not to trust her. Is she a Sleeper, like me then? The old man wonders. Though perhaps understanding the situation now is more pertinent than trailing off track.

[acidjail]

"You've been exposed to the cursed waters," she explains, with a particular vicious enthusiasm. No scruples are spared for anyone's tender feelings in Woe's street ministrations. "Have you noticed the lesions yet? The physical enhancements?"

"But you are blessed, for instead of being forced to submit to the crude efforts of the local hacks, you have come across someone generously offering a humane, complete cure," she continues, and then, with emphasis, "That someone being me, if that, too, escapes your notice. Now. Hand. And. Blood. Type."

[madgamerhat]

The old man stares dazed. Cursed waters? That's new. Amidst his thoughts, he feels skeptical to just offer his hand.

"I haven't found any...lessions."

He says with his hands on hips. Although the old man cannot see what's growing at the base of his neck, the stranger sure can.

As for a blood type...

"I must admit, I don't know what blood I have..."

He face palms as though to pry his mind for an answer. Yet, he finds none...

II

[subject_013]

She might be accosting a tall, blond male humanoid clad in a lot of black, a small medallion of the Blood Ministers' sigil clipped to the lapel of his black leather duster, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. He might hold himself a little straighter. "And who wishes to know?" he replies.

[acidjail]

"Your giddy maiden aunt," she snaps, her gaze dropping to his sigil and back up to his face with a fiercely sour expression, milk curdled with a heaping scoop of citric acid crystals. He towers over her, for she is not very tall at all, but she shows no sign of being intimidated or even aware of that fact as she cranes her neck to look up at him.

"A competent medical expert. Have you ever seen one before, hm?"

II (CW: Drunken Behavior, Johnny Lawrence)

[strikefirster]

Johnny isn't often stopped in the street by a total babe. There's a slight swagger in his step as he's on his way back to dojo after a trip to the bar. He looks Mercymorn up and down while she looks him over and smiles as smoothly as he can.

"Nice" He sways back and forth then takes a moment to think over her response.

"So it's like at least a quarter Coors at the moment, but mostly pale. Like the blood not the lager"

[acidjail]

The Saint of Woe goes apoplexic in shock.

No one - no one - has dared to look her over in such a fashion, as if oogling a display of ripe melons, in millenia - except to make her angry, or to be flippant, or to be cruel. Her mouth takes up a fishlike soundless working while her raised hands flap furiously in front of her, her whole self reduced to quivering outrage.

"Nice -" she begins, voice tortured up to a tinny whistle "- nice! -" as she steps forward "- nice?!"

"You cretin - you dog - you - you!!"

[strikefirster]

Johnny might have noticed where the outrage was directed on a normal day. But he was just drunk enough for it to fly completely over his head. Instead he leaned one hand against the wall of the building they were standing next two and gave a dopey sort of smirk.

"Yeah- But what if we go with hot instead? Because you are definitely are when you're all pissed off like that."

The point.

Johnny Lawrence's head.