open | draw me a circle and i'll protect

[creidim]

Who: Luna Lovegood creidim + you!
What: Luna's March Catchall + Omen Misfire Plot + Event Prompts
When: The month of March.
Where: Various.

Content Warnings: Warnings within individual prompts.


☽ GENERAL - THE MONTH OF MARCH | general catch-all
cw: corruption body horror; hallucinations; minor mentions of character death; link to mushroom-related body horror art

[ The month of March doesn't bring much change to Luna's routine. At the beginning of the month she remains very much on a self-imposed lockdown, not daring to venture outside all that much, if at all. She sticks to errand-running for food or anything else she and Peter need, but not much else. Maul's very public outburst mid-month in February has been keeping her on her house, waiting for the public threats to be made good on — considering she refused to take his deal not to meddle with him again. And then Willow's death a little over a week later had kept her well and truly housebound. Although in part it was more for Maul's sake than Luna's. She wanted to go after him, but John, Peter and Paimon had convinced her otherwise. Maul appears to have since stood down in the wake of Willow's death, but she remains wary.

As March slowly rolls along, she is seen outside more — but sticking close to home, not really venturing far outside of Gaze. She spends a great deal of her time in the School of Mutter, desperately trying to catch up on her studies. There's long stretches of time spent within the Archaic Archives too. But there's something else at play; even with the appearance of vast, luscious plant-life there's something... off. A strange scent in the air, a kind of earthy, almost-rot. Luna finds herself staring at fungi growing at a rapid rate: one walls and ceilings, along stacks in the libraries, on desks and books. More often than not someone might come across her staring at what looks like nothing at all: her face frozen in some kind of mix of awe and quiet horror. She even finds it growing on people and as time goes on, one might find themselves going about their business in Gaze and then suddenly accosted by a small blonde woman reaching to grab at their shoulder or arm with a wide-eyed and intense stare, demented at the sight she's seeing. ]

You've— why, it's right on you.

[ After March 14th, anyone who comes across Luna will notice a distinct change in her physical appearance. Those who saw her in December might recognise some of the symptoms, and it's clear that things seem much worse than what they were. Corruption has sunk its teeth in her once more. As the month goes on, Luna appears incredibly gaunt and sickly. Her eyes have taken on an eerie, pearlescent sheen to them — they glow. Her hair hangs limp and oddly, doesn't look much like hair. If one's paying attention they might swear they saw a clump of it move on its own accord. And even more startling, towards the latter half of the month: a pair of deer antlers have sprouted from her forehead — not growing much more than a very young buck, but quite prominent all the same.

It's certainly a strange sight to come across as she spends sunny afternoons. Some days she might sat out in the sunshine bent over a sketchbook, drawing the visions of mushrooms. Coming closer to see what she's drawing will reveal mostly drawings of people she sees: Sleepers and Trenchies alike going about their business with the exception of them often having swaths of mushrooms growing from them. From their chests, their shoulders, their faces.

Other days she can be found gathering plants or picking fruits and berries that grow in odd places all over Gaze. She plans on turning them into jams, or pickling them so they might keep longer. She gathers medicinal herbs, taking cuttings of some of them for her little greenhouse at home. Or perhaps she's absolutely engrossed in a particular find that's familiar, like Shrivelfig or Gillyweed or Dittany. But while there's certainly more physical changes, there's some mental ones too. She seems a little more fretful, teary-eyed too. One might find her weeping at the sight of a strawberry bush growing upon the wall of a house, reaching to touch it gently. Or she might be easily spooked, easily distressed by the hallucinations of mushrooms she's seeing — dropping her bag of picked goods for them to spill out upon the floor. ]

.... You startled me.

☽ VIDEO: @ QUIBBLER | omen misfire plot
cw: link to reading of The Tale of The Three Brothers contains themes/mentions of murder via fatal throat injury + suicide; animation visual of suicide via hanging in video

[ The feed opens randomly one quiet evening via Luna's Omen, Inlé, who begins broadcasting into the living room of the home Luna and Peter Graham share together. The hare seems to be quite low near the ground, given the level of view — resting all curled near the fire, the edges of it cracking in the Omen's peripheral. The rest of the feed shows a sofa, a pair of long, skinny legs of a boy sat neatly upon it. The view doesn't go past his stomach but those with a keen eye might recognise the person as Peter Graham — only it's not Peter who's here right now. Paimon is waiting patiently, silent. It doesn't take long to figure out just who it is that he's waiting on. ]

I have it—! [ Luna's voice can be heard, the blur of of a figure coming into view in the opposite corner to the fire. Luna doesn't immediately sit down, though. She stands for a moment, a book in her hand. ] Although I've read you this one before, are you sure you want it hear it again?

[ Despite no reason as to why Luna's Omen is recording, it becomes very apparent as to what this broad cast is going to be. It's... Story Time. One of the things that Luna and Paimon often do together on the days the demon is in control of Peter's body. Paimon responds in affirmative, he wants to hear this story again, and Luna moves to join the demon on the sofa, sitting down and pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged, turning to face him. Paimon shifts, turning himself sideways to face her, his hands in his lap — highly attentive. He is ready. ]

It's a very good story, I suppose. My dad used to read it to me all the time. But then again, it's a true story. [ Luna hums thoughtfully, a little soft sound of amusement in her voice. After a moment or two of finding the right page, Luna clears her throat slightly and begins to read.

Once Luna's finished reading. There's the sound of a book closing and the feed promptly ends. ]

☽ WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE | march event
cw: jungle-themed dangers such as animals and natural risks, eventual violence against animals; flood waters, almost-drowing

— GIANT FROGS note: this prompt is for your character getting eaten
[ For the most part, Luna had little plans in leaving her home as of late — considering the whole debacle with Maul last month. And while he seems to be making amends, Luna's not convinced of her own safety just yet. But it seems the Moss King has other plans, and she finds the board game squirrelled away — not quite sure if she remembers where it game from exactly, but excited enough to play it all the same.

And so she's transported from the relative safety of her home to the wilds of the deep jungles of Jumanji. While it's a miserable state of affairs, Luna's not one to complain much. It's not so terrible, really. She does have her wand on her, at least. She can provide fresh drinking water or a cooling blast of cold air if need be from time to time. Although the effectiveness is... hazy, from time time. Something's messing about with her magic, it seems.

Something doesn't seem right though, as she and her companion travel though the jungle. Luna slows her walk, frowning slightly. Nothing seems to be out of sorts, but Luna looks about and she gets the sneaking feeling something's about to go wrong. ]

Do you get the feeling we're being watched?

— RUSHING RIVERS
[ The rumbling beneath her feet makes her stop dead, a clawing dread building in her stomach. She doesn't know what's coming but it doesn't seem like it's going to be anything good. And before she can do much else, the deluge comes with a sudden intensity she can't even pull out her wand against it. She's caught up in the surging water, swept away and tumbling blindly through the murky darkness.

It seems to last for an age, long enough she doesn't think she's going to be able to hold her breath for much longer — battered and torn from the debris in the water. But finally she manages to surface again, coughing and spluttering. She grasps desperately at a tree trunk, but she can't seem to get a good grip on it — and ends up being washed away.

She tries again and again, pulling and clawing at whatever she can, desperate to stay afloat. She calls out desperately for help, disorientated and pained from the waters. Perhaps someone else might have more luck pulling her from the waters to some temporary safety. ]

☽ THE CATACOMBS | march event
cw: being trapped; feelings of starvation/thirst; mentions of hallucinations; will edit more in time

— UNTOUCHABLE TEMPTATIONS
It's very impressive, isn't it?

[ Luna is fortunately someone who doesn't care much for material wealth, but certainly it's a sight to behold considering the vast amounts of treasures. It seems almost impossible to how much could be fitted in one space. Lifting her wand, her lighting spell casts a silvery-blue glow across it all — it shines back almost ghostlike under the light. She takes in the enormous room, eyes wide for a long moment as she glances from pile to pile: gold and silver coins. Jewels and fine coins; shelves of potions and elixirs. One could almost wonder if they'd stumbled across a vault at Gringotts bank.

It seems the only way around all of this is to go through, and try to find a way about the treasure to find the exit on the other side. Luna turns to her companion to look at them carefully for a moment. ]

We should be careful. I don't believe this treasure will be mundane. [ Of course it wouldn't be. This isn't any ordinary treasure room. Vaults in Gringotts often had magic enchantments placed upon them. Luna doesn't think this will be anything different. ]

— CHRONOLOGY OF SEASONS
Wait a moment, is that Doorway—? [ It's the sight of colour that grabs her attention; the artwork upon the walls, even with their missing pieces is quite mesmerizing under the low glow of her lighting charm. She catches the illustration of her Patron upon one of the tiles and steps into the stone room out of curiosity — expecting her companion to follow her.

Luna raises her wand to get a better look of the place and gasps softly at the sight. The room is beautiful, she thinks. And after a few moments, her wonder turns to a slight frown as she takes in the tile pieces — each one seems to have a Patron Pthumerian painted on it. It's... it looks like a puzzle, it seems?

She doesn't have much time to dwell on the thought further. There's an ominous scraping of stone and Luna turns back around to find the door quickly moving shut, sealing them within room. She inhales sharply, just frozen on the spot until she slowly recovers and nods. ]

It's fine. We'll be alright.

— 'TIL DEATH DO WE PART
[ At this point, Luna's exhausted by the journey. She feels worn, in a way similar to how weak she'd felt when stuck within the Sleeper Farms of the Tower. That perpetually drained feeling; hungry and thirsty despite the water in her packs. The halls here are narrow and dark, and seem to go on for an age. Surely they must be close to some kind of way out. And what makes it worse is the snatches of things in the corner of her eye. Things that aren't there when she turns to look at them properly.

Part of her wonders if this time in dark is making her mind play tricks on her, if it's perhaps just the shadows, the shapes of the rock around them. But she's spent so much time seeing mushrooms in the corners of her eyes — she knows she's definitely seeing thing that aren't there. She quietly wishes Peter were here to double check if something is real or not real.

But she has to muddle through, the face that appear to her getting more and more insistent as they travel. At one point, the faces seem to shift softly into actual movement — a slow shambling behind them. Someone's actually there in the dark behind them. She's definitely seeing them. Luna swallows thickly, trembling softly. They're not alone. ]

Be quite calm. [ She whispers softly, her eyes wide. ] We're being followed.

[ contact heolstor or heolstor#5725 for plotting. wildcard options fine! plotting comment is here. ]

Comments

[creidim]

Of home. [ It comes out too easily. But she understands it. Of course there's plenty of bad memories in Deerington behind them, but sometimes it's the ones from home that hurt the most. ] Right?

[ She feels quite confident about this puzzle, actually. Her hand reaching up to one of the tiles to examine it a little more closely, frowning a little. They seem quite heavy, difficult to shift around. She nods at Clarisse's question. Yes, she knows where they go. Best to start with the beginning of them.]

I believe so, yes. I believe the Season of Tears means the flowers. I always think of Cynthia. Her crying, and her plant magic. [ There's a quiet pause, a little sad. But then she presses on. ] Considering the state of the city, that would mean the Moss King is the first one. Can you help me move the tiles? They're quite heavy.

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse sniffs and says with a shrug, ] Sort of. [ She doesn't consider the Labyrinth as being from home, necessarily. It exists outside of normal time and space, growing under the earth like rotten vines that twist around each other and form intricate, deadly knots. ]

A solo mission from when I was younger, [ she continues after a few seconds, and nods at Luna's request to help move the tile into the correct space. ] Things got kinda hairy.

[ She's about to say something else, something dumb about how she still doesn't know the name of half the Pthumerians so it's a good thing Luna's here, ha ha, but as soon as the tile begins to slide, she pauses, tilting her head. There's a sound like water running—not a lot, and it's almost pleasant, like a tiny fountain or a calm stream.

Then she glances down and feels her chest seize up. There's blood running over the floor and pooling by their feet. ]

[creidim]

You were on your own—? [ She didn't have anyone with her to help? Why not? That sounds awful.

Luna steps to help Clarisse move the tile, granted Clarisse is probably more than capable of moving them herself but team effort! But she finds herself stopping too, catching the sound with wide eyes. She looks down with Clarisse and inhales sharply. Blood. That is... not good. ]

This is the right tile for the start of the puzzle. [ She is very certain of that. She looks up at the tiles once more. Must they all do that? A bit of blood for each one? ] It has to be just part of its mechanism.

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse trusts Luna's expertise on all of this, and after a few harrowing seconds (blood, it's fucking blood) she nods and continues pushing the tile into place. As long as she doesn't look down and breathes through her mouth, she can focus on the physical work. Probably. ]

We usually go on quests in teams of three, three being a sacred number, but I got asked to go on a solo scouting mission into the Labyrinth. [ She chews at her bottom lip and glances at the rest of the tiles. ] I felt like I wasn't in there for very long, but like a month had gone by when I came out again.

feel free to drop this if it's been too long!

[creidim]

[ It must be some kind of horrible trick of it. Maybe it just happens no matter what they do. Blood is incredibly distracting, likely to worry them and make mistakes. But Luna has no intention of letting that happen. The Moss King's tile in place, she starts looking for Argonaut's. ]

Here, this one's the next one. Argonaut. [ Oh, hang on. ] This one's your Patron, right? Your birthday's in April.

[ There's a hush as she listens. Three is indeed a sacred number, her brow furrowing at her being asked to go alone. And time... moved differently...? ]

I'm sorry. They shouldn't have sent you in there alone. [ A pause. ] Even if it reminds you of it, this place isn't that. You're not alone, either.

it's never too long, babe

[laruetheday]

Mm. [ Clarisse nods. Right now her birthday seems like it's months in the future, though in actuality it's next month. She starts pushing at the Argonaut tile and cringes as more blood begins to pour into the locked room. It's sloshing around her ankles and she can smell it, rust and pennies and salt. Smelling this much blood is never good. More fucked up memories. ]

I know. It's good that you're here. I just—I didn't expect it to mess with me like it did. With my mind. But I was lucky. I made it out okay. [ Well, she made it out with some new scars and had to hack her own hair off with a knife, so... "okay". ] My boyfriend had been sent in, too, a little before me. He didn't die, but... he was changed. [ She chews at her bottom lip and stares at the tiles to avoid looking down at the blood. ]

Peter reminds me of him, [ she adds after a few moments, in a softer voice. ]

[creidim]

He's quite fitting, I think. You're very resilient. And have a fighter's spirit. [ Luna thinks so, any way. And she will make a mental note to get her something nice for her birthday.

She's cringing at the blood, but trying hard not to look down as she directs Clarisse to the next tile: Bausphomette, and then after a long pause over considering it — Remina's tile will be after that. They'll have the entire Season of Tears done, then. ]

Sometimes, I think it'll always just creep up on us. The things we go through, even if we make it out of them. [ They've both been through plenty, she knows that much. ] I suppose maybe the difference is when it happens, you don't have to be on your own like the first time.

[ There's a pause when she brings up Peter, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. But she looks sympathetic. ]

I'm sorry for him. I know... being with Peter is hard sometimes, with the things he's gone through? It's hard watching him having to deal with those things. [ It hurts to see someone you love like that. ] So I can... imagine.

... Sometimes I get to see glimpses of him underneath, though? The real him — that's warm and funny and caring — even if it's often lost under so much sadness and guilt and anxiousness, it's there.