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TDM #3 - It Came from Beyond the Veil! [REPRINT]
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette Issue #3 [REPRINT]
[Mod Note: This is a very long TDM because I was pulling out all the stops for spooky season, but I'm excited to share it with you all! Hope you can forgive all the reading I'm about to make you do, and stay spooky!]
11/10/23 | TDM #3 - "It Came from Beyond the Veil!"
Those who enter Lockwood Forest, particularly after dark, will find it abruptly inhabited by many ghostly beasts. Those with knowledge of specific other worlds may be able to identify these creatures as Ghost-type Pokemon. As stated by the Chief Constable, the appropriate tools for capturing and taming Pokemon permanently are not available, as the knowledge and supplies required to make them are not present in Pumpkin Hollow. However, with a little patience, they can be befriended. Pumpkin Hollow residents can each domesticate up to two ghostly friends, which will stick around after the rest of their kind move on at the end of November. It is possible they will return at a later time, but not guaranteed.
While none of the creatures seem to be of a legendary or mythical variety, especially lucky explorers may encounter one shiny per resident if they purchase a Sparking Talisman from the Shady Merchant’s shop for 50 Brass. (New residents, even those test-driving, begin with 100 Brass.)
It is also possible that random Pokemon-tamers may be attacked in the forest by Marrow Isle’s local cryptid, the Pine Devil. This dangerous creature attacks locals at random with the intention of eating them. Perhaps your new partner can help you survive the encounter! Or if not, your friend can at least keep you company during your 24 hours as a ghost. Also remember that ghosts can interact with one another! Ghouls of a feather haunt together! See our Death page for information on how dying works on Marrow Isle. If you do not want to interact with the Pine Devil, please simply include an OOC note on your post opting out!
Attendees to the seance meet Dr. Neil West outside his home and office before following him to a large old house down the road, not too far from Leeds Estate. He has a lot of gear, so he distributes the burden among volunteers---- covered platters containing the dinner he organized for everyone, candles, matches, chalk, various funny little instruments that are apparently ghost hunting equipment, spare bedding, and a few fire extinguishers. He came prepared, to be sure.
When the group arrives, Neil spends some time talking about the house. It belonged to Christopher Larkin, who had been Mayor Poe’s predecessor’s predecessor--- two mayors prior to now. He’d been a popular man. A high elf from a well-appointed family, but humble and reserved. A pianist, well-read and well-traveled before settling down on Marrow Isle. He had been mayor for many terms.
“Every year for the Winter Solstice, he would hold a dinner party for his friends and family. Not a large, ostentatious affair like Leeds galas, but there were plenty of people in attendance. However, the party that took place in the year 16:37 was different,” he explains as he sets up an arrangement of candles and begins drawing sigils on the old hardwood floor. “Something went terribly wrong. Survivors were few, and their accounts of what happened were disjointed and chaotic, but what could be gleaned from them was that the mirrors had gone… metaphysically rotten, in a manner of speaking.”
“It’s not unheard of, since mirrors are often used as portals, but whatever this was--- it was directly hostile. Predicting violence or terror which had not yet happened with impossible visions that would inexplicably play out in the room being reflected moments later, from the sounds of it. It was a bloodbath. Half the house burned down as well. It’s been silent here since then, aside from some reports of spectral activity. My hope is that tonight, we can reach out to these spirits and find out more about what happened here.”
Much of the house is coated with dust, and as Neil stated, there is a large portion that is dilapidated and scorched. A fair number of the mirrors have been shattered. The ones that remain seem normal enough now, though. You have a simple dinner together at the aging, once-austere dining table before returning to the living room to begin the seance.
Sitting on the hardwood floor around the chalk and candle circle, everyone looks to Dr. West as he performs his invocation.
”Spirits who reside here, lost and trapped souls of the fallen, we beseech you. Make your presence known to us, draw from our energy to make yourselves seen by mortals once more. Give us signs of your presence, that we may commune with you again and learn more of your lives and of your fate. Come forth and show yourselves.”
There is a foul, cold breeze that runs through the room. The candle flames flicker--- not at once, but in a wave, as if something has passed over each in turn. But then, there is no change.
“Hm.” Neil frowns. “Well, it seems there was some kind of reaction. Let’s settle in and wait.”
And so your group does just that. Guest rooms, still equipped with old and dusty but perfectly usable beds are divvied out, as well as the furniture from other rooms that remains usable. It was necessary to draw lots on who would have to sleep in the living room. Instruments are set out. People chat and wait around until one by one, they go to bed.
In the night, however, the house comes alive.
A grandfather clock which had previously not been working chimes the hour of 3am down the hall where the bedrooms are, loud enough to shake the bones and wake the dead. The fireplace in the living room roars to life on its own. The glass casings on the oil lamp in the parlor smashes for seemingly no reason.
Neil takes charge, deciding this to be a lost cause. “Let’s get out of here. Quickly, leave everything behind and head for the doors!”
But it’s too late. All the doors and windows are stuck shut. No amount of pounding will let you out, and windows that shatter heal themselves immediately. You are trapped. And as you are realizing this, ghostly figures begin pouring out of the mirrors. They fly off in all directions, into the walls and ceilings, and disappear. For now.
Attendees of the seance are trapped until dawn. There is no escape from Larkin Manor until sunrise. You must make it through the night together. Poltergeists of all sorts can be found throughout the large home. Ghosts are NPCs that can be written as players see fit, though most if not all will be motivated to attack or terrorize player characters. They can be warded off, tricked into leaving, or banished but not destroyed or harmed. Injury for player characters is a real possibility, but death is not likely. Stick together and stay safe!
Ghost Stories
The wind has grown a chill and smells of fallen leaves, drenched in rain water and decomposing to return to the Earth from whence they came. A crescent moon hangs in the blackening sky, cutting a Cheshire smile across the void. Rows of white stones stand stalwart against the night, recently polished by kindly volunteers, like sentries at their posts. Fall’s Promise --- a monument to what was and a reminder of the fate that no longer awaits the residents of Pumpkin Hollow.
Dahlia sits on the steps of a mausoleum bearing her own name. A cluster of candles and oil lanterns have been placed on the cobblestone circle around it. There is a picnic blanket with treats--- homemade apple crisps in tiny pie crusts and metal carafes of tea and coffee, still hot. She beckons you into the circle. There are plenty of blankets on which to sit.
There is chatter and eating for a while as the sun finishes its descent, storytellers and listeners alike gathering round. Then, the stories begin. If you have your own, you may take your turn to share it. Perhaps it will help you strike up a friendship with a neighbor.
Then, Dahlia takes her own turn to share the story she prepared. There is an old book in her lap--- thin, like a child’s book, but not decorated with the usual colorful illustration one expects from children’s literature. The flickering candlelight casts her face with an eerie glow.
“This is the oldest folk legend local to Marrow Isle,” she says. “It dates back nearly 50 years, not too long after my late father founded the town of Pumpkin Hollow. It’s the reason we carve pumpkins to this day and is based on a true story.”
Dahlia opens the book.
“This is the Sordid Tale of Smiling Jack.”
She reads.
”Many years ago, in the time of our forefathers, Pumpkin Hollow was brave and new. Many people came from all over the Emerald Isles, from Glassighe, Anwyll, and Braxtony alike. All were curious about the mysterious island, said to have been born out of sea fog and craggy rock from nowhere, and they came across the Black Jade Sea to see the newborn town that Japhet Leeds had built there.”
“One of these people was a man by the name of Jack Briar. Jack was a cheerful sort, always laughing and telling jokes and brightening the day of everyone around him. He was well-loved by all of his neighbors, and became known to the townsfolk as Smiling Jack, as he was almost never seen without a grin on his face. But Smiling Jack had a secret. Not a large one, but damning nonetheless--- Jack was a very selfish man. He was not a kindly neighbor seeking to share a smile out of the goodness of his heart, but an egotistical fool who only loved being the center of attention. Still, this secret was hidden inside his heart with no evidence to prove its truth, so no one would ever know it. Until that fateful day when a scarred stranger arrived on the back of a trade merchant’s ship, hidden among the cargo.”
“The new arrival was a thug, a crook and a murderer on the run from the Royal Guard. He had come to Marrow Isle because it was isolated from the Great Fairisle and from the king, to hide until the bounty hunters and lawmen forgot his face or he could make his way out of the country. He kept to himself, wanting nothing more than to lay low and avoid the notice of the burgeoning town. He never even shared his name with any of the residents. His plan would have gone perfectly if it were not for Smiling Jack, because of course, how could the town jester not notice the surly man who hid in a corner always wearing a frown?”
“Every time they saw one another, Jack would run up to the frowning man and attach himself to the stranger’s hip. He showered the man with compliments, told all of his very best jokes, and played all of his cleverest pranks and pratfalls. Never once did the stranger ever crack even a hint of a smile, glowering at Jack every moment they were in each other’s company. But Jack could not stand the thought of anyone not finding him funny, of anyone not having their heart warmed by his company. Everyone liked Smiling Jack in Pumpkin Hollow. He became ever determined to amuse this stranger. And when the man would finally tell Jack to leave him alone after being followed and pestered for half the day, Jack would hold up his hands defensively and say, ‘Oh, sir, there is no need for quarrel! I am only trying to make you smile.’”
“At last, the stranger grew fed up with Jack’s persistence, and one night after sundown he followed Jack to his home on the outskirts of the village. Once the wicked man was sure Jack was alone, he pounced, forcing Jack to the ground at the edge of a darkened pumpkin patch. He took a knife and carved into Jack’s face, cutting from the corner of his lips up to his cheek bones. And as Smiling Jack screamed in agony, the strange man finally cracked a grin and said, ‘Why are you so upset? I am only trying to make you smile.’”
“By morning, the man had skipped town on a stolen boat, and Jack lay bleeding into the tilled farm soil, his mutilated face crammed into a pumpkin. A nasty surprise for anyone who might find him. Since then, it’s been said that the ghost of Smiling Jack can be seen around the time of the pumpkin harvest, wearing a grinning Jack-o-Lantern over his face to hide his grisly forever-smile. Tales say that if he finds you after dark, he will corner you and tell you a joke. Those who do not laugh or who fake a laugh will find themselves meeting the same fate as Smiling Jack, unless they can flee quickly from his wrath.”
Closing the book, Dahlia smiles. “So, apple tart, anyone?”
After the Tale of Smiling Jack is told, residents (including those who didn’t hear the story) will begin encountering the malevolent spirit around town, who will tell them a grim joke--- largely grisly black comedy or gallows humor. If you don’t find the joke funny, you will have to run or fight for your life! Find a neighbor to help you, rescue someone else, slip into someone’s house in an attempt to escape, whatever you like! Smiling Jack can only be escaped by knocking his pumpkin loose from his face (at which point he will disappear) or by going inside of a home with a Jack-o-Lantern outside the door.
Additionally, if you do find the joke funny, he will follow you around pestering you until he finds someone else to attack or until the same parameters are met.
Smiling Jack is an NPC and can be written however the player likes outside of the aforementioned. Please remember to use content warnings for the jokes if necessary! You may also handwave the joke if you can't find one you want to use.
[Mod Note: This is a very long TDM because I was pulling out all the stops for spooky season, but I'm excited to share it with you all! Hope you can forgive all the reading I'm about to make you do, and stay spooky!]
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette
11/10/23 | TDM #3 - "It Came from Beyond the Veil!"
Content Warnings: [Article 5 (Further Details)] Murder, facial mutilation
Pumpkin Hollow continues to welcome new residents!
BLUE ISLAND BEAST BESTED AT THE BEACH
By Yorick Aberdeen
TAWNY BEACH - Thanks to the brave and talented newer residents of Pumpkin Hollow, the day is saved! The enormous, building-sized mother crab that attacked our fair island this past month for eating so many of her babies has at last been handily defeated. The Pumpkin Hollow Damage Claims Adjustment Corps (PHDCAC) will be adding damage claims from the crab attack to their “to-do” list, behind their long list of repairs and financial aid to be given to those homes and businesses impacted by this year’s Parade Day. While the parade this year was no more or less deadly than previous years, property damage did see a noticeable uptick due to local blacksmith River la Croix becoming possessed, inciting a magically-fueled fire that impacted several local businesses. When reached for comment, la Croix had this to say of the incident: "That was hellfire. Once you get a safe distance from an unidentified flame, look to see if it's feeding on something inflammable like metal or stone. If so, good news and bad news: it won't spread beyond a single conceptual object. Your house is a single conceptual object." In any case, with both the vile Parade and the crab attack behind us, Pumpkin Hollow leaves behind the Season of Beasts and enters the Season of Spirits with pride, dignity, and significant mark-downs on the price of crab meat. Participants in the battle against the Blue Island crab have been awarded with special medals from Mayor Poe for bravery and as much crab as they can possibly eat.SPECTRAL CREATURES INFEST FOREST; FRIENDLY OR HOSTILE?
By Yorick Aberdeen
An artist rendition provided by local teenage artist, Cassandra Seltic.
LOCKWOOD FOREST - Reports have flooded into the local constabulary from all over the island that the forest that encompasses the majority of the Northern portion of our island has recently become overrun with small creatures with ghostly appearances. As many of you are aware, earlier this year the forest suffered a prior invasion by tree-like trickster spirits known as Brutoks, which has since waned with the changing of the seasons. The creatures appearing now seem to be of an entirely different nature. Some have even described them as “cute”.
Chief Constable Janine Kilbride has stated that numerous attempts to capture these creatures have been made thus far and have proven ineffective. When reached for comment on the matter, Dr. Neil West, local psychiatrist and occult expert, speculated that perhaps we lack the appropriate tools. However, brave souls may be persuaded to venture beyond the tree line and attempt to befriend them. Perhaps you could even end up with an adorable, dangerous, ghostly new pet! Or you could die. That is, after all, always a possibility.
A COMMUNITY MESSAGE FOLLOWING SEPTEMBER GALA
By Cecil Gershwin Palmer
A photo of Hemsworth Custom Tailoring's store front.
PUMPKIN HOLLOW (Downtown Hollow) - The Pumpkin Hollow Artisan’s Guild would like to remind all citizens that rented attire should be treated with care and returned in the condition it was rented in. Those who rent clothing for formal events should avoid running into danger, fighting, clothed sex in private corners, duels, being set on fire or other acts that may damage clothing, as additional fees for repair and cleaning will be charged for garments returned in poor condition.
A representative for the Artisan’s Guild, Saraya Meridell, had this to say: “Do you know how hard it is to repair charred velvet? Do you realize that bloodstains don’t come out of silk? Wine, yes, we expect wine. But blood? It’s really a step too far.” She shook this intrepid reporter’s rented dress shirt in his face as she spoke, her green eyes wide and bloodshot. She then continued to murmur angrily to herself, grabbing a bar of laundry soap and retreating to the back of her workshop.
The vampires who attacked Dahlia’s Birthday Gala and caused the need for acts of derring-do could not be reached for comment.
DR. WEST ANNOUNCES SEANCE
By Yorick Aberdeen
NORTHWEST HOLLOW (West Dream Analytics) - As the days gradually begin to darken sooner and sooner, the veil between our world and the Beyond thins, drawing us ever closer to the spirits of those who have left our world behind. As a result, this time of year is popular for seances among the magically and spiritually inclined. Dr. Neil West --- proprietor of local sleep psychiatry clinic West Dream Analytics, occult expert, and leader of the controversial Ocularum --- has made a public announcement that he will be holding a large group seance to reach out to departed friends.
This seance will be hosted at the abandoned home of former Pumpkin Hollow mayor Christopher Larkin, the site of the tragic Winter Solstice Party Disaster of 16:37. It will feature an overnight lock in to observe spectral activity with dinner provided. Guest beds and other furniture remaining in the house will be utilized, or bedrolls supplied.PUMPKINFEST MOOD LINGERS; LEEDS HEIRESS PROVIDES MOOD SETTER
By Yorick Aberdeen
A scenic image of Fall's Promise.
FALL'S PROMISE CEMETERY - Despite this year's Pumpkinfest being behind us and the shocking events of its finale, the autumn air which persists into November still lends itself to the telling of tales of terror! Our own Dahlia Leeds will be hosting a festive mood-setter on the lawn of Fall’s Promise Cemetery. Leeds, member of the Town Council and daughter of Pumpkin Hollow founder Japhet Leeds, invites anyone interested down to the graveyard to join her in the sharing of ghost stories. Warm beverages and fresh apple pastries will be provided! Potential attendees are advised that the event will run until after dark, so please bring a lantern and dress warmly. It is best to walk home in pairs if you are able.
Page 1
Further Details...
Spectral Creatures
Those who enter Lockwood Forest, particularly after dark, will find it abruptly inhabited by many ghostly beasts. Those with knowledge of specific other worlds may be able to identify these creatures as Ghost-type Pokemon. As stated by the Chief Constable, the appropriate tools for capturing and taming Pokemon permanently are not available, as the knowledge and supplies required to make them are not present in Pumpkin Hollow. However, with a little patience, they can be befriended. Pumpkin Hollow residents can each domesticate up to two ghostly friends, which will stick around after the rest of their kind move on at the end of November. It is possible they will return at a later time, but not guaranteed.
While none of the creatures seem to be of a legendary or mythical variety, especially lucky explorers may encounter one shiny per resident if they purchase a Sparking Talisman from the Shady Merchant’s shop for 50 Brass. (New residents, even those test-driving, begin with 100 Brass.)
It is also possible that random Pokemon-tamers may be attacked in the forest by Marrow Isle’s local cryptid, the Pine Devil. This dangerous creature attacks locals at random with the intention of eating them. Perhaps your new partner can help you survive the encounter! Or if not, your friend can at least keep you company during your 24 hours as a ghost. Also remember that ghosts can interact with one another! Ghouls of a feather haunt together! See our Death page for information on how dying works on Marrow Isle. If you do not want to interact with the Pine Devil, please simply include an OOC note on your post opting out!
The Seance
Attendees to the seance meet Dr. Neil West outside his home and office before following him to a large old house down the road, not too far from Leeds Estate. He has a lot of gear, so he distributes the burden among volunteers---- covered platters containing the dinner he organized for everyone, candles, matches, chalk, various funny little instruments that are apparently ghost hunting equipment, spare bedding, and a few fire extinguishers. He came prepared, to be sure.When the group arrives, Neil spends some time talking about the house. It belonged to Christopher Larkin, who had been Mayor Poe’s predecessor’s predecessor--- two mayors prior to now. He’d been a popular man. A high elf from a well-appointed family, but humble and reserved. A pianist, well-read and well-traveled before settling down on Marrow Isle. He had been mayor for many terms.
“Every year for the Winter Solstice, he would hold a dinner party for his friends and family. Not a large, ostentatious affair like Leeds galas, but there were plenty of people in attendance. However, the party that took place in the year 16:37 was different,” he explains as he sets up an arrangement of candles and begins drawing sigils on the old hardwood floor. “Something went terribly wrong. Survivors were few, and their accounts of what happened were disjointed and chaotic, but what could be gleaned from them was that the mirrors had gone… metaphysically rotten, in a manner of speaking.”
“It’s not unheard of, since mirrors are often used as portals, but whatever this was--- it was directly hostile. Predicting violence or terror which had not yet happened with impossible visions that would inexplicably play out in the room being reflected moments later, from the sounds of it. It was a bloodbath. Half the house burned down as well. It’s been silent here since then, aside from some reports of spectral activity. My hope is that tonight, we can reach out to these spirits and find out more about what happened here.”
Much of the house is coated with dust, and as Neil stated, there is a large portion that is dilapidated and scorched. A fair number of the mirrors have been shattered. The ones that remain seem normal enough now, though. You have a simple dinner together at the aging, once-austere dining table before returning to the living room to begin the seance.
Sitting on the hardwood floor around the chalk and candle circle, everyone looks to Dr. West as he performs his invocation.
”Spirits who reside here, lost and trapped souls of the fallen, we beseech you. Make your presence known to us, draw from our energy to make yourselves seen by mortals once more. Give us signs of your presence, that we may commune with you again and learn more of your lives and of your fate. Come forth and show yourselves.”
There is a foul, cold breeze that runs through the room. The candle flames flicker--- not at once, but in a wave, as if something has passed over each in turn. But then, there is no change.
“Hm.” Neil frowns. “Well, it seems there was some kind of reaction. Let’s settle in and wait.”
And so your group does just that. Guest rooms, still equipped with old and dusty but perfectly usable beds are divvied out, as well as the furniture from other rooms that remains usable. It was necessary to draw lots on who would have to sleep in the living room. Instruments are set out. People chat and wait around until one by one, they go to bed.
In the night, however, the house comes alive.
A grandfather clock which had previously not been working chimes the hour of 3am down the hall where the bedrooms are, loud enough to shake the bones and wake the dead. The fireplace in the living room roars to life on its own. The glass casings on the oil lamp in the parlor smashes for seemingly no reason.
Neil takes charge, deciding this to be a lost cause. “Let’s get out of here. Quickly, leave everything behind and head for the doors!”
But it’s too late. All the doors and windows are stuck shut. No amount of pounding will let you out, and windows that shatter heal themselves immediately. You are trapped. And as you are realizing this, ghostly figures begin pouring out of the mirrors. They fly off in all directions, into the walls and ceilings, and disappear. For now.
Attendees of the seance are trapped until dawn. There is no escape from Larkin Manor until sunrise. You must make it through the night together. Poltergeists of all sorts can be found throughout the large home. Ghosts are NPCs that can be written as players see fit, though most if not all will be motivated to attack or terrorize player characters. They can be warded off, tricked into leaving, or banished but not destroyed or harmed. Injury for player characters is a real possibility, but death is not likely. Stick together and stay safe!
Ghost Stories
[CW: murder, facial mutilation]
The wind has grown a chill and smells of fallen leaves, drenched in rain water and decomposing to return to the Earth from whence they came. A crescent moon hangs in the blackening sky, cutting a Cheshire smile across the void. Rows of white stones stand stalwart against the night, recently polished by kindly volunteers, like sentries at their posts. Fall’s Promise --- a monument to what was and a reminder of the fate that no longer awaits the residents of Pumpkin Hollow.
Dahlia sits on the steps of a mausoleum bearing her own name. A cluster of candles and oil lanterns have been placed on the cobblestone circle around it. There is a picnic blanket with treats--- homemade apple crisps in tiny pie crusts and metal carafes of tea and coffee, still hot. She beckons you into the circle. There are plenty of blankets on which to sit.
There is chatter and eating for a while as the sun finishes its descent, storytellers and listeners alike gathering round. Then, the stories begin. If you have your own, you may take your turn to share it. Perhaps it will help you strike up a friendship with a neighbor.
Then, Dahlia takes her own turn to share the story she prepared. There is an old book in her lap--- thin, like a child’s book, but not decorated with the usual colorful illustration one expects from children’s literature. The flickering candlelight casts her face with an eerie glow.
“This is the oldest folk legend local to Marrow Isle,” she says. “It dates back nearly 50 years, not too long after my late father founded the town of Pumpkin Hollow. It’s the reason we carve pumpkins to this day and is based on a true story.”
Dahlia opens the book.
“This is the Sordid Tale of Smiling Jack.”
She reads.
”Many years ago, in the time of our forefathers, Pumpkin Hollow was brave and new. Many people came from all over the Emerald Isles, from Glassighe, Anwyll, and Braxtony alike. All were curious about the mysterious island, said to have been born out of sea fog and craggy rock from nowhere, and they came across the Black Jade Sea to see the newborn town that Japhet Leeds had built there.”
“One of these people was a man by the name of Jack Briar. Jack was a cheerful sort, always laughing and telling jokes and brightening the day of everyone around him. He was well-loved by all of his neighbors, and became known to the townsfolk as Smiling Jack, as he was almost never seen without a grin on his face. But Smiling Jack had a secret. Not a large one, but damning nonetheless--- Jack was a very selfish man. He was not a kindly neighbor seeking to share a smile out of the goodness of his heart, but an egotistical fool who only loved being the center of attention. Still, this secret was hidden inside his heart with no evidence to prove its truth, so no one would ever know it. Until that fateful day when a scarred stranger arrived on the back of a trade merchant’s ship, hidden among the cargo.”“The new arrival was a thug, a crook and a murderer on the run from the Royal Guard. He had come to Marrow Isle because it was isolated from the Great Fairisle and from the king, to hide until the bounty hunters and lawmen forgot his face or he could make his way out of the country. He kept to himself, wanting nothing more than to lay low and avoid the notice of the burgeoning town. He never even shared his name with any of the residents. His plan would have gone perfectly if it were not for Smiling Jack, because of course, how could the town jester not notice the surly man who hid in a corner always wearing a frown?”
“Every time they saw one another, Jack would run up to the frowning man and attach himself to the stranger’s hip. He showered the man with compliments, told all of his very best jokes, and played all of his cleverest pranks and pratfalls. Never once did the stranger ever crack even a hint of a smile, glowering at Jack every moment they were in each other’s company. But Jack could not stand the thought of anyone not finding him funny, of anyone not having their heart warmed by his company. Everyone liked Smiling Jack in Pumpkin Hollow. He became ever determined to amuse this stranger. And when the man would finally tell Jack to leave him alone after being followed and pestered for half the day, Jack would hold up his hands defensively and say, ‘Oh, sir, there is no need for quarrel! I am only trying to make you smile.’”
“At last, the stranger grew fed up with Jack’s persistence, and one night after sundown he followed Jack to his home on the outskirts of the village. Once the wicked man was sure Jack was alone, he pounced, forcing Jack to the ground at the edge of a darkened pumpkin patch. He took a knife and carved into Jack’s face, cutting from the corner of his lips up to his cheek bones. And as Smiling Jack screamed in agony, the strange man finally cracked a grin and said, ‘Why are you so upset? I am only trying to make you smile.’”
“By morning, the man had skipped town on a stolen boat, and Jack lay bleeding into the tilled farm soil, his mutilated face crammed into a pumpkin. A nasty surprise for anyone who might find him. Since then, it’s been said that the ghost of Smiling Jack can be seen around the time of the pumpkin harvest, wearing a grinning Jack-o-Lantern over his face to hide his grisly forever-smile. Tales say that if he finds you after dark, he will corner you and tell you a joke. Those who do not laugh or who fake a laugh will find themselves meeting the same fate as Smiling Jack, unless they can flee quickly from his wrath.”
Closing the book, Dahlia smiles. “So, apple tart, anyone?”
After the Tale of Smiling Jack is told, residents (including those who didn’t hear the story) will begin encountering the malevolent spirit around town, who will tell them a grim joke--- largely grisly black comedy or gallows humor. If you don’t find the joke funny, you will have to run or fight for your life! Find a neighbor to help you, rescue someone else, slip into someone’s house in an attempt to escape, whatever you like! Smiling Jack can only be escaped by knocking his pumpkin loose from his face (at which point he will disappear) or by going inside of a home with a Jack-o-Lantern outside the door.
Additionally, if you do find the joke funny, he will follow you around pestering you until he finds someone else to attack or until the same parameters are met.
Smiling Jack is an NPC and can be written however the player likes outside of the aforementioned. Please remember to use content warnings for the jokes if necessary! You may also handwave the joke if you can't find one you want to use.
no subject
He half ducked and half pressed back against the wall to try to keep out of the ghost's path, watching it warily but also keeping an eye on Mary out of his peripheral.
"Do you think they can actually hurt us or are they just trying to scare us?" He was oddly calm about it, or his tone was, at least.
Like, how much energy did it take for these spirits to manipulate solid objects? Was slamming cabinets and igniting fires exhausting? Could the ghosts themselves touch them? He'd looked death in the eye before; he'd probably absolutely get into a brawl with a ghost if it came to it.
no subject
Mary impacts with a cry of pain, and dust and cobwebs shower down on the hallway -- but she can do nothing to slow herself as she falls for the floor.
Seems like actually hurting the living is on the ghosts' agenda tonight!
no subject
Some people hesitated in tense situations, some people ran away and abandoned others, no matter how good of friends they were. Kavinsky? He didn't even give it a second thought before diving under where Mary was falling to catch her. He might have ended up on the floor himself, but he also did his best to shield her from the impact with his body.
"I feel like that was my fault," he wheezed. "You okay?"
He wasn't even on his feet again before he added, "I also feel like these ghosts are a bunch of fucking cowards, spineless bitches."
Apparently, the ghost was also accepting challenges. The next moment, it looked like the ghost slapped him--except a series of scratches appeared on his face, just deep enough to bleed. He blinked. Then blinked again. Reaching up, he touched the scratches- then started laughing. He...might not have the best self-preservation instincts.
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And she scrambles back, keeping low as the ghost continues to harry at Kavinsky. No heroic one-liner, no calling attention to herself --
Mary throws the metal pitcher at the mirror as hard as she can, and the glass shatters into a spiderweb pattern.
Does it to anything to the ghost? Mary is sure hoping so!
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He was also vaguely aware of what Mary was doing, but didn't look at her just in case the ghost took notice. So when the pitcher connected with the mirror and the glass shattered, he flinched. The ghost whipped around and screamed in rage- before flickering out of existence. Kavinsky didn't think it was gone for good, as in, sent back to the afterlife, but it was gone for now and that was almost as good.
He'd stopped laughing at least, as he looked curiously between the mirror and Mary. "Right- he said something about mirrors, didn't he? Good thinking."
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And then she's looking around in the cabinets, and come up with a small jar. "I think this is it! Looks like salt, anyway."
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Mostly for the sake of people other than him, he figured, since he was still struggling to care about his own safety.
He peered at the jar, as well. "Yeah, looks like salt. If it is, then like, a salt circle should keep the ghosts away."
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She'll leave it up to Kavinsky to decide -- she'd hate to be disagreed with and manhandled. (Not that he's been like that since they met, but past experience with others has made her extra cautious.)
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"I guess that'd be a good idea, yeah. He might know how to get all of this shit to stop. If he doesn't..." he hefted the pitcher a bit--no, he was absolutely not suggesting he'd hit the doctor over the head. "We could just push him out of the circle and take it."
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Mary looks around to check if anyone is possibly eavesdropping, then says, "I don't have a lot of confidence in the doctor either, but he's kind of our best option in a bad situation."
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"Yeah, he seems to know shit about how ghosts work here. Even if I hate the idea of relying on someone." He'd learned early on that people were unreliable.
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"Preachin' to the choir here," Mary says. "Most people are shit, but for now we gotta bank on the doctor being an educated shit. Doctors usually are."
There's a wealth of experience hinted at in the resentment dripping from that last sentence, but Mary won't go into it if you don't.
Another seance attendee comes running down the hall in the opposite direction, and basically shoves past Mary and Kavinsky. Mary falls backward, more focused on keeping the lid on the jar than catching herself.
"Ow! Damn-- case in point!" Mary yells after the fleeing person, "Asshole!"
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If looks could kill, the look Kavinsky gave the person who shoved past them would have dropped them dead in their tracks. He was used to being shoved around himself, but that didn't mean he enjoyed seeing other people get pushed around--when they didn't deserve it, anyway.
Crouching down, he offered her a hand up. "Worse than shit, people are animals. I'm an asshole, too, but there are levels to dicketry, you know?" And at the very least, he wasn't going to be one of those people who panicked in a dangerous situation and trampled others.
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"Dumb, panic-striken animals," Mary agrees. "And you haven't been an asshole to me, so that puts you on a short list of decent folks in my eyes."
She does end up sticking closer to Kavinsky after that, walking just behind him as they keep searching for Dr. Neil West in the house. There's shouting coming from the library... it sounds likes an argument, rather than plain fear. Maybe someone already found Dr. West!
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Straightening up, he kept a good hold on the pitcher, the kind of grip that said he'd absolutely beat someone (or something) with it if necessary. When he heard the shouting coming from the library, angry voices a more familiar experience than he would've liked, he glanced back.
"Sounds like something worth investigating. I doubt someone's arguing with a ghost." If only because the ghosts just seemed to scream instead of speaking.
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Might be a good moment to use that pitcher the way you intend, Kavinsky!
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But he had witnesses, and he wasn't the only one in danger. If Kavinsky had been in here alone, he would've acted differently. Other people didn't deserve to suffer, though. So he strode over to the pair and brought the pitcher down on the back of the man's head. He...had never knocked someone out before and he was only used to pulling his punches with Ronan (and occasionally his boys) so...he was pretty sure he didn't hit the guy hard enough to cause permanent damage. Though the man did drop like a sack of potatoes.
"Some people never grow up."
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"It's still salt, so it should form a barrier," Dr. West takes the small jar. "There isn't much here... but you both did well to find it."
He glances around the room, and then at the floor, lips moving as he seems to be mumbling calculations to himself.
"We can put a circle around these chairs here. If everyone else will gather here? And then I can put a smaller circle around myself to try banishing the spirits..."
"That's fair," Mary says. She motions urgently to Kavinsky behind the doctor's back. Once he comes closer, she whispers, "Do we stay in the separate circle, or stick close to the doctor?"
She hadn't been expecting Dr. West to think of the other people in the room. But maybe they misjudged him.
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It sure did give him a dilemma while he thought over Mary's question. "It might be better if you stayed with the others and I stayed with the doctor?" Something, something, not putting all your eggs in one basket. He also felt like the doctor would be a bigger target if he was trying to banish the spirits, even with the salt circle.
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Dr. West starts sprinkling the salt, in as thin a line as he can, in order to stretch it enough to cover the area in a protective circle. He's maybe two-thirds of the way through when he notices that Kavinsky is standing apart.
"There's no time to waste, sir," Dr. West says, worry clear in his tone. "Come stand with the others, please."
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He shook his head when the doctor addressed him. "Nah, I'm good. Just think of me as your moral support." Moral support still armed with a pitcher, though he wasn't sure how effective it would be against ghosts. "Keep going."
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She might be annoyed with how things have gone, but she's not angry with him, not really. Mary doesn't like being sidelined because of her looks or people's assumptions, but she's pretty sure that's not Kavinsky's motivation here.
After another moment of hesitation, broken by the sound of smashing furniture elsewhere in the house, Dr. West nods and sprinkles the epsom salt to close the first circle.
"All right. It's a good point. Come stand here, please," the doctor points out a spot on the floor, next to the single occult book he had on hand. Dr. West shakes the jar with a pensive look "Our circle will be smaller, but I'm sure we have enough to close it. I can start banishing rites then... but the ghosts may attack once I do."
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His head jerked in the direction of the sound of things breaking, but the next moment, he returned his attention to the doctor, stepping close. "Ghosts are one hundred percent not the scariest shit I've seen. I'll do everything I can."
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"Right, yes," the doctor tries to work both quickly and carefully while setting most of the circle around Kavinsky and the reference text. Just as Dr. West is stepping in to finish the circle, the door to the room bursts open again -- and several angry ghosts swoop in, rattling the shelves and then flinging books toward the doctor.
"Son of a bitch!" Mary yells, "Hurry up, close it, close it!"
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"You know, they throw pretty fucking hard for buckets of ectoplasm."
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