The House Always Wins

[reddosmod]

MARCH 2023 EVENT

Due to the UNIQUE NATURE of the Moss King, previous March events are NOT available during this month's event. Please keep that in mind.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Fanged, smiling carnivorous plant from little shop of horrors ]
[Image Two: House overgrown by roots.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Person covered in glistening film that seems to be suffocating.]
[Image Two: Woman's face splattered in blood. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Poker chip with an anime girl's face on it. ]
[Image Two: Dogs Gambling Painting, but it's famous horror monster villains instead of dogs. ]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING

WHEN: March 8-31
WHERE: The City of Trench and surrounding regions
CONTENT WARNINGS: Plant-Based Peril, Isolation, Entrapment, Carnivorous Plants, possible but unlikely death.

---

The plentiful and bountiful harvest of plants that started to blossom towards the beginning of the month has continued, and if anything? It's getting more and more troublesome. The old saying goes that too much of a good thing is too much, and this is definitely the proof of that pudding. Plants are literally growing everywhere. Trenchies can be seen cutting branches out of impossible locations, and vegetation is beginning to grow inside of established businesses and homes. There is an ever increasing market for vileblood based defoliation options that are being offered by entrepreneurial Trenchies, but the fact that more than a few of those selling the stuff have gone missing under strange circumstances calls into question their efficacy.

For Sleepers, this means that the possibility of encountering enlarged and potentially dangerous plants such as those seen in the earliest parts of the months grows ever more real. A human-sized venus flytrap might very well try to snatch one up, with all of the peril that entails. However, while it is possible for any exotic plant to carry with it potentially lethal threat, most of these are able to be dealt with by even the untrained with a machete. The real problem is the root systems and the plants that ones that talk. The former are the most likely to be encountered. Root systems grow over entire buildings during the mid to late month, choking over light sources and blocking windows to dim houses. They clench their grip over doors, making getting out of one's house an act of willpower and muscle that may have to be repeaated over and over again. Worst of all is the fact that many of these root systems almost seem to be intentionally creating barriers around the Lantern Network! The little moaners are safe, but their sphere of protection becomes a dome of wood, shielding and keeping them away from those naughty sleepers trying to hack their way to a teleport.

The talking ones, though, are downright disturbing. They're not very large, at first they do indeed seem to whisper and beg to be fed. Naturally, only blood will do, and the longer that they're fed the larger and more dangerous that they can become. But, so long as one doesn't feed them, they're harmless, right? Wrong. True, they can bite and it's easy enough to avoid them. However, it's what they start to say when they're denied their food that becomes disturbing. “There is a consequence of your actions, you know.” “Do not think that you are immune.” “Saving the Moss Brat seems wise now, but have a long memory.” Things like that. The voices they take on are eerie, unnatural and do not match the plants' normal begging voices. They never clear up who is speaking or what they're speaking about, but surely it's not a big issue, right?

By the end of the month, the plants wither away and break off of the various homes and businesses, leaving no visible damage behind, as if whatever caused them has faded entirely.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

THE LEECH

WHEN: Second Half of March
WHERE: Anywhere in Trench, but not the Outpost.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Magically Cursed Ailment, Severe weakness, Anemia

---

You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? From the moment that the first talking plants appeared in Trench, there has been another ominous presence. Unbeknownst to the people of Trench, but the Moss King is recovering from Riteior's attack and, while they are safe and slowly getting back to their normal self, this has allowed for Riteior to offer a little payback in an effort to cause trouble to those seeking to stop his attacks on the Pthumerians of Trench. In the night, while characters are sleeping, the plants strike. They wake to find a thin film over them, but otherwise it appears harmless. The next full day, there's nothing wrong and they feel hail and hearty. In fact, those pesky little talking plants are gone from their house. Of course, the next day the horror begins to settle in.

Within 48 hours, Sleepers will find themselves weak and lethargic in the extreme. The condition is not fatal, but it is problematic and irritating. They will find that no amount of food, water and rest quite gets rid of the malaise that they are experiencing, a strange drowsiness and lack of energy plaguing their every moment. The longer it persists, the more dangerous it becomes. However, there appears to be no obvious cause, at least until they visit someone capable of treating their condition, be they a Blood Minister or trained physician. Victims of this curse appear to be suffering from a severe, but not life-threatening anemia. There is no obvious cause, but the Ministers are certain that it is not natural and is likely a result of a curse of some kind. They can offer stimulants and high energy food, which will help the person experiencing the condition, but the real danger comes if they try to use their blood for a blood ritual of any kind. The insidious reason becomes obvious. Someone is attempting to stop them from safely having enough blood to perform the rituals to seal them away!

Victims are “fine” in the sense that they could get through the month safely without risk of death and just be weaker. However, if they attempt any form of blood ritual or blood letting, they risk running out of blood, which would indeed be a life threatening concern. The only solution, then, is a blood transfusion of another type. The Blood Ministers are willing to provide blood from their banks, but caution that it is better if a fresh supply is used. Do you have a friend willing to lend a hand? Or, do you miss one of the deadlines this month for fighting back Riteior?

FAQ:

This condition strikes after the mid-month, when the latest batch of rituals further weakens Riteior, and ensures the Moss King's safety.

This condition is not life threatening, unless a person attempts to use blood for a ritual or other purpose without first receiving a transfusion.

If a person attempts to perform a blood ritual before getting a transfusion, their anemia can become life threatening very quickly.

It is possible to completely avoid this prompt by not being targeted by Riteior. His cursed targeting is not that precise and he is clearly becoming desperate.

When a transfusion is given, both participants will be lightly anemic for another 24 hours, but the condition will fade afterwards completely.

It is suspected strongly by some of the Blood Ministers and Arcane Scholars that this is a curse brought about by a brief moment of control over the Moss King by Riteior. This can be learned easily in conversation with members of the orders in Trench.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

HIGH STAKES

WHEN: Second Half of March
WHERE: Goat Turning in The Cellar Door
CONTENT WARNINGS: Gambling, Possible Coersion, lowered inhibitions, Risk of Character Death

---

The Moss King appears to be 'on the mend' by the latter part of the month, or at least he seems to be his usual self. A flyer advertising a special for all Sleepers and residents of Trench at the Goat Turning, his personal gambling hall, circulates throughout town. The doors of the Goat Turning will be open to absolutely everyone, and nobody will be turned away for an event that will last the last two weeks of the month! Anyone who comes will be given a complementary set of chips for free, along with a very special commemorative poker chip embossed with their own face on it which they are assured they can keep afterwards, assuming they don't lose it betting! In fact, that commemorative chip is the only way that a person can return to the Goat Turning during this period, and has to be shown to get admittance, though you don't need to bet it even if it appears to be worth quite a lot! Every night, a new allotment of chips is offered to gamblers. It isn't much, and if they're willing to trade a few goods to get more, they can supplement their stash. What could be more fun than a friendly game?

The drinks and food are free for those attending, and even better? They don't seem to have a lot of strange effects. The drinks seem to ease the symptoms of corruption, in fact, and make a person more relaxed and at ease, along with lessening their inhibitions. The food is filling and pleasant, but salty, making one crave the drinks more. But, honestly, compared to Generosity's botched and spoiled food in January it's almost heavenly, even if it does make it easier to want to keep gambling and gambling. After all, those prizes for the big winners of the night are certainly something to behold, and the kinds of luxuries that Trenchies drool over.

The Big Prizes: (Maximum 1 big prize per character for the month)

A Lunar Orb

A Vial of Pthumerian Blood that can leave a person feeling sickly and weak if they come in contact with it

A Genuine Lantern, enabling a second teleportation location to be placed!

A Blood Enchanted Weapon or Armor.

An Item from Home that a character might not normally find washing up on shore

The Lesser Prizes:
Players are encouraged to use their imagination on lesser prizes that could be won. Food. Supplies. Furnishings. Weapons. Tools. Clothing. Any number of valuable could be won throughout the month.

So, what's the catch? There's always a catch. Well, like any gambling hall, the saying goes that the House Always Wins. This isn't true universally. You could have a hot streak at the Craps table, or you might just win on your lucky number in Roulette. It is very possible to walk away with enough chips to win a big prize all in one night, or build up over time to claim such a lofty goal. But the trick is that commemorative chip. It's the admission, and it's also the only way you can leave the gambling den each night. The chip must be presented both at entry and leaving, and only then does the reality become clear. That chip is so valuable because it represents your life! You might literally be betting with your life here! Should you lose your chip and not have it at the end of the night, the impressive and powerful bouncers at the door will bar you from exit, and once the hall closes there is nowhere to go but the basement. Anyone who enters the basement after hours will find that their life is indeed forfeit, and their debt is called. They will die down below. How will they die? Well, considering the fighting pits down below, any of a thousand deaths, some more gruesome than others, are possible. And, if another player holds their chip, they will be given a special pass to remain below, to demand their price themselves.

So, if you lose your chip is it still possible to get it back? Absolutely! It is a gambling hall, after all. Someone just has to be willing to give it back, or to win it back from another player or the house. What could be simpler? Of course, because there are no compulsions in the commemorative chip, and no rules about how it is to be used or transferred other than that it must be won from the house in a fair game, it is almost as if the Moss King is testing his own guests to see just how far they will go, and what they will do if their life or the life of a friend is on the line.

FAQ:

Players are limited to one grand prize per character. Please record this prize on the prompt below.

Characters that die because of this event may die in any reasonable fashion in the basement. Tools are provided. This may be handwaved.

Because this event involves the potential of players bargaining for their lives and death, we remind players to be mindful and communicative with others regarding permissions and preferences during this event. Do not break permissions.

Lesser prizes can be won in quantity, but we ask that you be reasonable about this.

The Commemorative Chip is non-magical and there is no compulsion to gamble with it. It is simply worth a lot more.

The Event is not age restricted, so underage gambling is possible.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

Creeping Dust | OC | OTA

[cynomorpha]

🐝 itsabee#1072 | Bee (2)
💀 Plotting comment

---

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING

[ Creeping Dust and his omen stand before a thatch of squalling plants. The plants snap and cry at him, but they cannot quite reach. He stands with his arms crossed, watching them without emotion.

He draws a small sigil in the air, a necromantic symbol that resonates with source energy. Sometimes this is useful in finding the central cause of a possession. However, here it simply disappears under the earth with the root system, which he certainly predicted.

He does not have the supplies currently for an excursion into the depths below the city. So he will have to compromise. He draws a large curved blade from where it is crossed with its twin on his back. ]

Now, who would like to be first?

[ The next plant to snap at him is deftly grabbed and cut in a smooth motion. ]

THE LEECH

[ He hears of the affliction through eavesdropping, which is his habit just about everywhere he goes. He has really no respect for the privacy of anyone else's conversations. Upon establishing it has struck a few, he goes to the Blood Ministers for a little conversation. They tell him their theories, and he goes out into the town to see if he can find any research on the subject. Luckily, someone mentioned the location of the archives to him.

He makes his way there, and looks around with pleasure. Ah, yes. This is his kind of place. He feels the intriguing connection with his Patron Pthumerian here. A creature with interesting parallels to the Ghost Dog.

As they take in the library and are informed of its "organization" system, his omen steps out into the world; a dog of smoke with a glowing heat in its center, like burning coals. It will take the lead as their intuition.

Creeping Dust puts his hands into his pockets and follows along lazily, admiring even the most gruesome of artifacts as they go. ]

HIGH STAKES

[ He loathes crowded places; a solitary creature. However, such gatherings are always full of opportunities. People are primarily useful to him, convenient in their moment, and here are fish in a barrel.

He tidies up a bit: no longer in light leather armor, and now dressed in a professorial looking garb, complete with a pair of glasses. His dark hair is still an unruly mess of curls.

In the evening, he can be found in the gambling hall playing with quiet certainty. He has a cagey mixture of bluffing and conservative play, and a mean smile when he wins. He does not put the token with his face on the table at any point, it remains in his jacket pocket.

He drinks with restraint, his glass still mostly full when he smiles in a way that doesn't reach his eyes and inquires, ]

What brings you here?

[ After hours, he follows a poor debtor as they are shown the way downstairs. He keeps to the shadows until the raucousness of the underground fighting ring is revealed. Ah. Yes, that doesn't surprise him. More importantly, he wants in on the action.

So he finds his way onto the roster and carefully folds up his shirts, his little pair of glasses. He looks much less professorial in this state. He is covered in scars, the pattern so immaculately consistent that it must have been done with great intent. Some occult ritual?

He is as cagey of a fighter as he was a gambler, full of tricks and sharp, sudden violence. His relationship with the Coldblood remains new, some of his spells don't work quite as he expected. But at least one pops with a dangerous blast of fire or electricity, and his Decrepify spell burns with an icy cold.

In the early morning, he takes his leave on his own. A little battered and bloody around the face, but immensely satisfied. He blinks at the rising sun and goes to find a cup of coffee, which he has determined is excellent in comparison to the alternative he remembers from home.

The battered 'professor' and his omen sit together, people watching absently. ]

WILDCARD

If you want me to write a prompt customized to your character, I'm happy to! Just ping me.

high stakes | evening

[fogsong]

[ Sharon appears to have had a bit much to drink by this time of the night, a flush across her cheeks and down her neck, but she's not overly drunk, just enough to be loosey-goosey with her chips. There's a drink in her hand but she only sips at it now. She's lost more games than she's won tonight but she's not at risk of losing everything quite yet.

She's seen this man around, has watched how he's played (that smile of his had some bite to it) and has even taken mental notes, maybe watching him a little too much. She's not a big gambler, still learning, and he looks like he knows what he's doing.

At the question, she snorts. ]

Same reason as everyone else, trying to 'win big'. [ But she rolls here eyes. ] For someone else, though. I'm giving her whatever I win.

[cynomorpha]

[ His stare is too direct, like he's not even bothering to hide how he takes mental notes too. Observing traits and cues, and he always seems to determine himself superior at the end. ]

Charitable. And what is it you want from this girl?

[fogsong]

What, you don't help your friends out just because you can? You have to want something from them in return? [ Sharon isn't particularly surprised by his reaction but it does tell her a lot about him. Between how he looks at others and his response, she's already getting a feel for him and the world he's come from. ]

[cynomorpha]

'Friendship' would have been an acceptable answer, yes.

[ Just because he is too scooped out and hollow does not mean that he has disbelief that friendship exists. ]

[fogsong]

I feel like friendship was the obvious answer. [ She explains with a shrug before she looks close at what he's doing. ] Sooo, how good are you at these games?

[ She's obviously angling for something. ]

[cynomorpha]

[ Was it obvious? Who else in this casino is going to tell him they're playing for friendship. He takes a sip of his drink, looking at nothing in particular across the bartop. ]

Better than most.

[ He reads people well without giving anything away in kind, but they're still games of chance. ]

[fogsong]

Can I pay you to teach me? [ She wasn't about to ask him to do it out of the goodness of his heart but if he's good, and if he's gunning for a prize, a good amount of chips might be enough of an incentive. ]

[cynomorpha]

[ Oh? He does lean on his arm, glancing at her. ]

Do you have a few days?

[ It's not like they'll get anywhere with it here. ]

[fogsong]

I do, actually. Will it really take a few days, though? [ She thought maybe an hour or two per game type (she's also vastly overestimating how slow she picks up on games in general). ]

[cynomorpha]

Longer, if you wanted to show any actual skill.

[ Siiip. ]

But we might manage a few quick wins.

[fogsong]

I am a very quick learner. [ No, she is not. She is lying. ] But if you manage to get me a few wins, I will consider it a huge success.

I've never really gambled before. [ She gestures to the wall of slots with her head. ] Fucked around with that shit, though. I don't get how people can play those for hours without their brains going to mush.

[cynomorpha]

Gamblers wear many faces.

[ He swirls his drink lazily on the bar top. ]

From foolish to conniving. And some people can afford to be more foolish than others.

[fogsong]

Foolish seems like the best face to wear. People underestimate fools. [ She grins. It's not a mask she wears often but it's a mask she's willing to don if it means winning. ]

[cynomorpha]

[ He glances over to pay more attention to the details of her smile. He seems satisfied with its artifice. ]

Yes. The earnest type who came in thinking they can win with the force of a determined spirit... They're usually easy to run around when they're genuinely so naive.

Weaponizing that... we can accomplish in a few days.

[fogsong]

[ Her smile seems to sharpen just a little. That would be an easy tell, whoops. ] Sounds like fun.

Name's Sharon, by the way.

[cynomorpha]

Hm.

[ He didn't ask. ]

My name is Creeping Dust. And yes, I am aware my home-world's naming conventions seem strange to most of you.

[ 😑 ]

[fogsong]

Eh, it could be stranger. [ Sure, she's never met someone with a name like that but... frankly, she doesn't care what a person's name is as long as she knows what to call them. ]

[cynomorpha]

[ Bless, he's oh so wearied with hearing about it. Such a diva. ]

We will require somewhere quiet to practice, first. And then somewhere crowded.

[fogsong]

Quiet? [ She sits up in her seat and looks around the Goat Turning. Given the number of people and noise, they might have some trouble. ] Yeah, I don't think we're gonna find that here. We can practice outside or at my place if I'm not giving you big 'stranger danger' vibes.

[ It's not like she's Miss Intimidating. ]

[cynomorpha]

[ The curl of a sharp smile. ]

In the morning, Sharon.

[ He is always like that, making fun of others when it was he who was cryptic and vague. ]

[fogsong]

Oh, I must've missed it when you made that clear earlier in the conversation. [ Please enjoy the easygoing snark. She's not too bothered. ] In the morning then.

[cynomorpha]

[ Honestly: he likes people who fight back at his shitty attitude. He's not overly put out about teaching a snotty girl about hustling people at cards. ]

I should meet you at your residence in the morning, then.

[fogsong]

[ Snotty!? Gasp shock how rude (no she is just a little bit) ]

Not too early, though. [ She tells him as she pulls her omni out from a pocket at her hip, not looking up at him as she pulls open her messages. ] I'm a late-morning kind of girl. [ She finally looks back over to him. ]

Username? [ So she can send him the directions. ]

[cynomorpha]

Hm.

[ Yeah, sure. After staying up all night at fight club, he might want to sit and have a cup of coffee before he shows up looking like... fight club... ]

Dust2dust.