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deercountry2022-12-21 06:05 pm
terriblepurpose) wrote in deercountry2022-12-21 06:05 pm
[player plot] bedtime stories for julia
Who: Sleepers of Trench, Julia Sodder's ghost, Watchers, Patron Pthumerians; Open to all
What: Bedtime Stories for Julia player plot (OOC plotting post and IC network post)
When: December into January
Where: Sleepy Town outskirts, interior
Content warnings: Unreality, child death (referenced), cosmic horror, marked by thread
Carnival
Some distance from the enormous gates of Sleepy Town, an incongruous sight blooms in the latter days of December: a winter carnival set outside of the long evening shadows of that most sacred place's heavy wood walls. The thousands of deer carved into that dark wood sometimes almost seem to be watching the carnival, but perhaps that is only a trick of the festivities' colourful lights.
The carnival itself lacks the towering fairground rides some Sleepers might associate with the idea of a carnival. The multi-coloured patch of tents that sprang up like the city's own mushrooms are devoted instead primarily to displays of performance arts, with Trenchies and Sleepers alike encouraged to show off their talents in music, theatre, martial arts, poetry, and story telling of all types. The bulk of tents are dedicated to these purposes.
Interspersed among them are tents for small carnival games and food hawkers like those that sometimes appear on the Boardwalk, warming tents for the weary to rest, and the sundry other facilities required for a staging ground for serious excursions - but many will pass those tents by, paying no heed to the work going on within them.
Despite the appearance of cheer, the carnival has a ragged, threadbare sense to it. The carnival games' prizes are not so generous as they sometimes are in the warm summe, and the food on offer tends towards the thinned and careful rationing of winter. The Trenchies who participate have a pinched, furtive look when not performing their roles, and cast anxious glances in the direction of Sleepy Town whenever the wind turns. Bitter cold haunts the gaps between the tents, and at night, the calliope music that plays has the brittle quality of ancient glass rattling in its panes.
The purpose of this carnival is not to make merry. It is to be seen to make merry. This is why even the Hunters and Disciples who attend to the protection of the carnival's borders in this dangerous place daub vivid paint on their cheeks and submit to the donning of bells, ribbons, and crowning wreaths of branches laden with deadly red berries.
As they whisper to each other from behind the upturned collars of coats and sleeves held over the mouth: once the attention this carnival seeks has been caught, who knows where it might fall? And, more terribly yet: what might it birth?
Sleepy Town
Within the walls, Sleepy Town is as it ever is. The strange shifting locale that once was the town known as Deerington, the birth place of the child called Julia, remains a ruined graveyard.
But it is within the confines of the dark walls that mark the edges of this haunted town that the stories must be told.
Contingents of Sleepers filter into Sleepy Town over the course of December, their feet breaking the thin dusting of snow that cover the slumped remnants of ancient buildings that some pilgrims might still recognize as their own. But even those who never knew the town when it was alive may find themselves struck with a mysterious sense of familiarity, from time to time - landmarks that are almost known to them glimpsed just out of the corners of their eyes.
It falls to the would-be storytellers to choose their own venue for the intended kind of story telling. A cleared intersection might serve as a flattened stage for a play's performance, while the miraculously standing front half of a church could be the platform for a song. Once Sleepers find a location that suits them, they would be well-advised to present their stories then and there before the unstable nature of the town swallows up the site never to be seen again.
Those unlucky enough to be immersed in the stories may or may not have chosen their venue. The immersion will begin according to the dream-logic of Sleepy Town as either a narrative already being performed spiralling into a 'real' analogue, or it might swallow them up even before they start, as if their intent is enough to trigger the descent into acting out their stories in reality.
Wherever they go, Sleepers might hear the faint, inconsolable sobbing of a young girl in still and lonely moments, echoing untraceably through the broken streets she still wanders.
[For more information on the plot and for questions, see OOC plotting post. For information provided to the characters within the game, see the IC network post.]
What: Bedtime Stories for Julia player plot (OOC plotting post and IC network post)
When: December into January
Where: Sleepy Town outskirts, interior
Content warnings: Unreality, child death (referenced), cosmic horror, marked by thread
Carnival
Some distance from the enormous gates of Sleepy Town, an incongruous sight blooms in the latter days of December: a winter carnival set outside of the long evening shadows of that most sacred place's heavy wood walls. The thousands of deer carved into that dark wood sometimes almost seem to be watching the carnival, but perhaps that is only a trick of the festivities' colourful lights.
The carnival itself lacks the towering fairground rides some Sleepers might associate with the idea of a carnival. The multi-coloured patch of tents that sprang up like the city's own mushrooms are devoted instead primarily to displays of performance arts, with Trenchies and Sleepers alike encouraged to show off their talents in music, theatre, martial arts, poetry, and story telling of all types. The bulk of tents are dedicated to these purposes.
Interspersed among them are tents for small carnival games and food hawkers like those that sometimes appear on the Boardwalk, warming tents for the weary to rest, and the sundry other facilities required for a staging ground for serious excursions - but many will pass those tents by, paying no heed to the work going on within them.
Despite the appearance of cheer, the carnival has a ragged, threadbare sense to it. The carnival games' prizes are not so generous as they sometimes are in the warm summe, and the food on offer tends towards the thinned and careful rationing of winter. The Trenchies who participate have a pinched, furtive look when not performing their roles, and cast anxious glances in the direction of Sleepy Town whenever the wind turns. Bitter cold haunts the gaps between the tents, and at night, the calliope music that plays has the brittle quality of ancient glass rattling in its panes.
The purpose of this carnival is not to make merry. It is to be seen to make merry. This is why even the Hunters and Disciples who attend to the protection of the carnival's borders in this dangerous place daub vivid paint on their cheeks and submit to the donning of bells, ribbons, and crowning wreaths of branches laden with deadly red berries.
As they whisper to each other from behind the upturned collars of coats and sleeves held over the mouth: once the attention this carnival seeks has been caught, who knows where it might fall? And, more terribly yet: what might it birth?
Sleepy Town
Within the walls, Sleepy Town is as it ever is. The strange shifting locale that once was the town known as Deerington, the birth place of the child called Julia, remains a ruined graveyard.
But it is within the confines of the dark walls that mark the edges of this haunted town that the stories must be told.
Contingents of Sleepers filter into Sleepy Town over the course of December, their feet breaking the thin dusting of snow that cover the slumped remnants of ancient buildings that some pilgrims might still recognize as their own. But even those who never knew the town when it was alive may find themselves struck with a mysterious sense of familiarity, from time to time - landmarks that are almost known to them glimpsed just out of the corners of their eyes.
It falls to the would-be storytellers to choose their own venue for the intended kind of story telling. A cleared intersection might serve as a flattened stage for a play's performance, while the miraculously standing front half of a church could be the platform for a song. Once Sleepers find a location that suits them, they would be well-advised to present their stories then and there before the unstable nature of the town swallows up the site never to be seen again.
Those unlucky enough to be immersed in the stories may or may not have chosen their venue. The immersion will begin according to the dream-logic of Sleepy Town as either a narrative already being performed spiralling into a 'real' analogue, or it might swallow them up even before they start, as if their intent is enough to trigger the descent into acting out their stories in reality.
Wherever they go, Sleepers might hear the faint, inconsolable sobbing of a young girl in still and lonely moments, echoing untraceably through the broken streets she still wanders.
[For more information on the plot and for questions, see OOC plotting post. For information provided to the characters within the game, see the IC network post.]
OOC SUMMARY
CARNIVAL
STORY RECORDINGS (POST SUMMARY OF STORIES HERE)
The Lost Girl and the Stalking Beast
Story Dedication: Julia Sodder
Story Origin: Original composition
Storytellers: Oscar Pine and Paul Atreides
Story Medium: Intended to be an oral recitation, becomes an immersive story
Story Summary: The story begins with an infant of mysterious origins discovered at the edge of the woods by a township there. The girl rarely speaks and keeps to herself as she grows up, but seems to be plagued by strange occurrences as inexplicable as she is. The girl believes herself followed by a monster she can never turn around to see, but tells no one, fearing how the town might react to her apparent curse.
Despite her efforts to mitigate the acts of her Stalking Beast, the town begins to see her as a harbinger of bad luck. The imperceptible Beast's powers are believed by the townsfolk to be under the girl's control, and as suspicion grows so too does the Beast's influence. In time, despite the girl's protests of innocence, the town turns on her entirely, driving her into the dark and dangerous woods.
Once she is lost, the girl faces trials of thorn, river, and cold, while still pursued by her Stalking Beast. In each trial, the Beast assists her, and the girl starts to lose her fear. Finally, she is able to turn around and see the Beast for what it is: her own shadow, protecting her as best it knew how her entire life. She embraces her Beast, and discovers herself surrounded by more shadowfolk like her, who guide the girl back to the dark kingdom where she was born to reside happily among her fellow 'monsters'.
The Litle Girl and the Evil Socerer (sic)
Story Dedication: Julia Sodder
Story Origin: Original composition technically extremely loosely based on homeworld life events
Storytellers: Izuku "Deku" Midoriya (age 7), Paul Atreides (age 7), and Kaworu Nagisa (age 5)
Story Medium: Theatre
Story Summary: A Little Girl is imprisoned by an Evil Baron Sorcerer who seeks to take advantage of her power for his own gain. With the help of a Hero who arrives to rescue her, she uses her power to defeat her captor. (The performance goes awry, and an ending where they befriend the Sorcerer and turn him good is improvised. The Little Girl may have bitten the Sorcerer.)
Orpheus and Eurydice
Story Dedication: Julia Sodder
Story Origin: Homeworld mythology
Storytellers: Mike Enslin
Story Medium: Intended as an Oral recitation, and stays as such.
Story Summary: It's here. Only he has modified the ending so that Orpheus does not lose faith and look back, so he does not lose his wife to the Underworld, and they emerge together to walk off into the rest of their lives, never to be troubled by or entangled with the gods again.
An Unwilling Apprentice
Story Dedication: Julia Sodder, Moon Presence
Story Origin: Personal Story
Storytellers: Maul + anyone who wants to play the roles of anyone in the story
Story Medium: Oral storytelling that becomes immersive.
Story Summary: The general story can be found here. Keep in mind that in canon every time this event is talked about, it's told "Rashomon style" i.e. Talzin says he was stolen, Sidious says he was given as a gift, and Savage says he was sold. Hence the ending deviates a bit from the story's usual ending: rather than giving up her son without a fight, Talzin fights Sidious for who will gain custody of Maul. Scared, Maul hides during the battle. The story ends with footsteps approaching the boy's hiding spot. It's left ambiguous who won and will take Maul.
The Gardener and the Swan Sorceress, and All That Came After
Story Dedication: Julia Sodder, Doorway
Story Origin: Original composition (based on a personal story)
Storytellers: Illarion Albireo
Story Medium: Oral recitation with light immersion
Story Summary: > Everyone knows the Swan Sorceress is deadly dangerous, but Hyacinth--young, bold, brash botanist Hyacinth--courts her anyway. One day, his innocent teasing prompts her to bespell him, forcing him into a marriage and confinement in her private gardens, raising miraculous and frightening plants exclusively for her benefit. When their viable egg finally hatches, she kills Hyacinth shortly thereafter, his usefulness to her spent.
Hyacinth's son, Little Sparrow, becomes a direct replacement for his father. His mother controls him easily, needing no magecraft, for he knows no other life but the garden--toiling day in and day out, only dreaming of what becomes of the beautiful, uncanny flowers and fruits he raises. Until, one fateful day, a terrible storm topples the garden walls and Little Sparrow escapes into the wide world.
His exceptional talents and meek, kind nature win him many friends. By their encouragement, he grows into a courageous young man, and soon announces his plan to descend into Navia--Hell--to rescue his unjustly slain father.
On the day of the summer solstice, with his friends' help to work the ritual, Little Sparrow breaches the Veil and descends to Hell. He finds Hyacinth there tending a magnificent garden--and unwilling to leave the afterlife for the world of the living. Instead of forcing his father to return against will, Little Sparrow remains with him in Hell to learn all the lessons a father owes a son.
Half a decade passes before Little Sparrow returns from Hell--to an unliving body with an unrecognizable face, for his friends had given him up for lost and performed funeral rites. Dead and barred from living society, Little Sparrow wanders the world in despair and helpless anger at his friends. Even his mother doesn't recognize him and won't take him back into her garden.
It is only after he understands who he is, without purpose or family or flock, that his dearest friend once again hears his voice as more than the winter wind.
GENERAL CARNIVAL MINGLING
JULIA SODDER MEMORIAL
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Re: JULIA SODDER MEMORIAL
(for oscar, around new year's)
On this morning, though, Ozpin stands separate from the rest. He has come to leave an offering at the grave of a girl. It is nothing more than a bundle of white, clustered, long-stemmed flowers. ]
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[Oscar had been watching. In one manner or another, he was always watching. The storytelling project had taken on a greater scope than he had ever realized, and it eased his heart to see so many people reaching out to tell their own stories to a lost little girl that the world had forgotten.
Maybe Julia would truly have a chance to rest easily, as she deserved. He really hoped so.
While much of their communication over the organization stages had been mental pings and responses, Oscar felt compelled to speak this topic out loud. Heavier topics were always easier when they were given the weight of a voice-- and, smiling softly, Oscar held a cup of cocoa out for Ozpin.]
The flowers, I mean. Most places don't have much in common with our home, but the flowers are kinda universal. I wonder why?
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The universals go deeper than that.
[ He regards Oscar over the rim of the mug, weary and fond. ]
They come to life in the spring... weather the heat of summer, cool with the fall... and die in the winter. It's a cycle.
[ It's a circle. ]
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SLEEPY TOWN
STORY PERFORMANCES
The Litle Girl and the Evil Socerer (sic)
"This--This is the story of a Little Girl imprisoned by an Evil Baron Sorcerer--and the Hero who went to save her--" is the stammering introduction delivered very bravely by a nervous boy with a mess of green hair, freckles, and a wooden prop sword before he ducks out of sight stage left.
"I will have your power for myself!" The tallest boy, more curls than boy, whirls onto the stage in a black robe and scary bird mask. Paul gleefully pursues the littlest boy with silver hair who is wearing a voluminous skirt and tailored jacket fit for a performance of The Nutcracker. Unlike his thespian-minded costars, Kaworu isn't making all that much effort to escape; he's just playing a new game with two other children.
Izuku, slightly late on his cue, jumps in holding his sword out, still very nervous about the audience watching him. When the Sorcerer advances on the Hero, Izuku breaks character and reflexively screams, dropping his sword. Because his own scream was so unexpected on top of being nervous on stage, he immediately begins to cry. (He's an ugly crier, big wet tears and snot streaming down his face.)
The Little Girl is in the middle of donning a glittery halo of interlocking paper rings with dozens of eyes drawn on. Instead of performing the transformation sequence that will defeat the Sorcerer, he leaps upon the Sorcerer like a feral cat.
The play has descended into chaos.
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Of course, it had been a bit disconcerting at first, to wake up without his parents or his teachers, or even any of the servants, but Paul thought he would be making them all very proud of him in their absence. He had paid attention to his surroundings to uncover the letter of instructions, and from there, he had been resourceful, clever, and (if he might say so himself) really very brave.
He had even successfully employed his most expert diplomatic skills to acquire brand new allies in the forms of Kaworu and Izuku, who he has already designated as best friends of equal standing.
Getting to come up with a story with his new best friends and absolutely no rules had been the least terrible kidnapping Paul couldn't even have imagined, and he'd taken to it with enthusiasm. It's only now, as Kaworu leaps on him in defence of the bawling Izuku, that Paul begins to think he might have gone a little too far with the Evil Sorcerer.
"I didn't mean to!" He protests, rather stupidly, before Kaworu is on him in all his tiny fury. He's awfully little, and therefore awfully pointy, which in turn is awfully uncomfortable.
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When Izuku starts crying, Kaworu becomes aware of the fragility of it all. That if Izuku cries because of Paul then he might leave and never come back and then he'd be without someone that he wants to keep close. So the response is wild, like an animal backed against a wall with no escape and nothing to do but to fight.
He doesn't want to fight Paul, he just wants him to stop and let all of this be so he can be sure its real.
"Stop!" He cries over and over in the three languages he knows before settling on trying to bite Paul's hand. People don't like being bitten. He learned that long ago.
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cw: bullying mention
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Hopefully, the three children are too busy doing battle to notice a tall redhead dressed in ripped tactical gear and a kickass face mask cheering loudly. (Bomb, for her part, thinks she's being incredibly encouraging.)
"Yeah!! Kick his ass! Punch him in the teeth! Remember, knuckle tats are for winners only!!"
Encouragement given, she leans closer to the nearest person and whispers, "My money's on The Little Girl. It's always the tiny ones."
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STORY IMMERSION
The Lost Girl and the Stalking Beast
It's not the sort of funny that makes anyone smile.
"Do you think we're getting close to a good place?" He asks Oscar, absently, even though Oscar has no more reason than Paul does to know what the right place might look like. If anything, Paul ought to know better, being the prophet between the two of them.
A lousy job, prophet. Another funny thing.
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The only similarity was the pain of a girl that was unable to find release from her own role that she had no choice but to play.
"...I don't know," Oscar said, carefully picking his way through the snow. The heavy boots and jacket were a blessing, but he knew that it was his own training with his Aura that was making the real difference in regards to his stamina in the cold. Mistral had been a mild climate, but three years in whatever climate had dominated both Deerington and Trench had given him ample practice.
Being able to take his mind off of the cold gave him the freedom to think of other things.
"This is my first time in Sleepy Town," Oscar confessed. "I was too nervous to come before. I'm trying to find... I'm not sure." He huffed, blowing a cloud of heat out into the cold air while they walked. If he didn't think so hard on the details, he could almost figure out where they were.
Almost.
"I'm trying to find one of the places that I used to leave gifts for the jackalopes," He finally elaborated. "During my first autumn in the dream, I made friends with a whole flock of them. Even if I didn't like the future they showed me, they still followed me and helped me feel safer at night."
That friendship, however small it may have been, must have been part of the reason Dorothea had taken a liking to him. Many people had feared the jackalopes.
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An Unwilling Apprentice
Maul's usually comfortable with being the center of attention, but then he's usually not talking about something so personal. Still, this isn't just for him, this is also for Julia, so he'll try to get it all out the way it should be.
He begins to tell the story, his soft, smooth voice perfect for telling such a grim tale. "Once upon a time, on a planet in a galaxy far, far away from here, there was a boy who lived with his mother and little brother..."
At first, everything goes according to plan, Maul telling the story, while occasionally using his Force powers to rattle stones or cause a breeze to move through the area for dramatic effect. But then something goes a bit awry. The surroundings of Sleepy Town begin to fade away. Red light begins to shine seemingly from nowhere and a mountainous, rocky landscape begins to crop up around those who are watching. Ghostly figures begin to spring to life: a tall Zabrak woman with chalk-white skin and black tattoos around her face, a sinister-looking human in a robe with a hood that leaves his face in shadows, and a small Zabrak boy maybe about two or three years old with yellow skin and black tattoos. Those who know him may recognize the last figure as a much younger version of Savage Opress, Maul's brother here in Trench.
Last to appear is the star of the story, Maul as a boy, maybe five or six years old at the most. He looks scared and nervous, with scrapes and bruises all over his scrawny little form. He stays in view only for a moment or two before hiding again, big yellow eyes watching everyone else with so much fear in them. Will you interact with one of the figures? Or wait for them to come up to you? Either way, whoever is watching is getting dragged into this tale whether they like it or not.