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ph_memes2023-06-07 02:56 pm
TDM #1 - The Vengeful Forest
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette
6/7/23 | TDM #1: "The Vengeful Forest"
Content Warnings: body horror mentioned, article 2
A typical view from Jack's Marina
FIRST NEW ARRIVALS IN HALF-DECADE: MORE TO FOLLOW?
By Yorick Aberdeen
TAWNY BEACH - Big news at Jack’s Marina--- for the first time in roughly five years, the Marrow Isle Port Authority has reported a new arrival by ferry. And it’s not just one person.
Since the advent of the Barrier that has plagued our fair island for the past 5 years, no transport vessels have been logged for departure or arrival by the Port Authority. And for good reason! Any boat that attempted to make the journey beyond the blackened waters surrounding the island has met with a terrible fate ranging from property destruction to untimely demise. While said casualties don’t quite carry the sting they used to, the situation has obviously proven less than ideal for those looking to leave and ultimately halted the mass exodus from Pumpkin Hollow indefinitely.
Today, for the first time since the formation of the Barrier, we are seeing brand new faces arrive at the docks. All of them have been somewhat disoriented and some have claimed to be from locations that do not exist in our world. We approached one of these new arrivals, Milo Fields, for comment on his experience.
“A lady in an office told me I was dead and then I woke up on a boat,” Fields, 26, was quoted as stating on the matter. Succinct and fascinating, indeed! It would seem that for once, our island’s propensity for supernatural oddities has brought us something that we can be hopeful about. More on this as it develops.
‘CREEPY LITTLE TREES’ SEEN IN TOWN
By Yorick Aberdeen
Artist rendition of a "Brutok".
NORTHWEST HOLLOW (Prague Mills) - This morning Town Hall received a report from the road by the lumber mill, which leads out to Crane’s Ridge, that there have been more sightings of the “tiny tree people” that have been appearing around Lockwood Forest. Over the past few weeks there have been multiple sightings of short-statured creatures with gnarled limbs, bark complexions, and leaf-shaped masks moving about among the trees. There have also been several reports claiming that they have been in town. These reports are particularly prominent in areas toward the outskirts of the forest such as the aforementioned Prague Mills.
However, movement is not the only activity people claim to have seen. Many of these sightings detail more insidious behaviors such as mean-spirited practical jokes, theft, and attempted kidnapping.
The Pumpkin Hollow Gazette reached out to local historian and town council member Dahlia Leeds for any insight on these creatures from her research.
“These creatures appear to be Brutoks,” Leeds, 23, concluded in her interview with us on Tuesday evening. “They’re angry woodland spirits known to appear in cursed forests, much like our own.”
Ms. Leeds went on to issue a number of safety warnings for residents. According to her research, these Brutoks often move in groups and will lock on to woodland travelers who make eye contact with them. Their eyes are not visible so this can be done by accident quite easily if one spends too much time staring into trees. If Brutoks attach themselves to you, they will follow you home, proceeding to destroy your property, hide your personal items, attempt to cause you bodily harm, tear up your garden, and eventually spirit you away to the woods. Victims of these kidnappings will be “planted” in the woods by the Brutoks and spend the next several hours enduring the deeply unpleasant process of being turned into a tree, ultimately killing the individual. A gruesome affair.
There are several ways to dispel a Brutok invasion before it escalates to kidnapping. Ms. Leeds recommends observing their behavior for clues and keeping an eye out for puzzles set by the creatures while outside, though there may be other solutions. If you are unable to dispel them, it is possible to fight them off with brute force. Those walking in or near the woods are advised to keep their eyes on the trail but listen carefully for sounds of distress and be prepared to intervene. Should you encounter any trees that look like people, Ms. Leeds has also cited the unfortunate need to burn the unsettling foliage in order to release the spirit of the victim so that they can regenerate as usual.
As always, the sharing of information and community vigilance are imperative in warding off this new threat. Please share any information you have on the message boards at town hall or with your neighbors, and consider reaching out to Ms. Leeds or any other respected community figure if you find yourself in a bind. Keep your lanterns lit, Pumpkin Hollow. We’re in for quite the summer.
CUCUMBER FESTIVAL CANCELED DUE TO UNFORTUNATE TURNIP HEX; REPLACED WITH POTLUCK
By Yorick Aberdeen
They haunt my dinner plate and my dreams.
DOWNTOWN (Temple of Sacred Roots) - In lighter news, a solution has been found to the much-loathed Turnip Hex debacle.
As most residents of Pumpkin Hollow are aware, earlier in spring a crop hex was placed on the island by an unidentified witch that turned all ground crops sown at the time into turnips. While this is not as bad as it could be, it has resulted in mounds upon mounds of turnips and a complete lack of other crops until later harvests. The witch who cast this hex is still at large.
An unfortunate side effect of the hex has been that the beloved and highly anticipated Cucumber Festival, which normally takes place in early June, had to be canceled due to a lack of cucumbers. This has earned the ire of a great many residents who have cited the festival as “their last source of a modicum of joy on this goddess-forsaken island”, among other more colorful statements.
Reverend Degas Clayton of the Temple of Sacred Roots of our Four Earthly Mothers has proposed an alternative to the festival. While not nearly as exciting, Clayton, 57, believes that a turnip potluck is still a great community-building exercise and excuse for a social gathering. He encourages attendees to find the most inventive ways they can think of to cook up excess turnips and present their dishes on the temple lawn during the party. “The sooner we eat the blasted things, the sooner we’ll no longer have to look at them anymore,” said Mayor Poe in her endorsement of the event. It would appear she plans to be in attendance.
To participate, please bring an appropriate dish to the Temple of Sacred Roots on Friday at noon. The party will run until sundown and wine will be provided, which may improve the taste of the turnips. New residents are encouraged to attend even if they are not able to provide a dish so that they can meet their local community and learn more about the church.
QUESTIONS/FEEDBACK
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Degas Clayton || NPC || OTA
New faces in town.
Degas walks the cobblestone streets of downtown with an extra spring in his step, mind racing. New arrivals! Could it be that that barrier was weakening or was there something else afoot here? A part of him wanted to dare hope that this could be a sign…but what if it was another plague cruelly wrapped up to be presented as their saving grace? The thought haunts every step, cackling as he follows his usual routes.
As he approaches someone, one can also see a rain cloud overhead, bushy eyebrows knit together in worry. One hand strokes his beard in quiet contemplation, the other firmly in his pocket until he notices one of these strange, new faces.
“Good day to you,” He rumbles, hand moving from beard to the middle of his chest in greeting. “A bit lost are we?”
🍲TURNIP POTLUCK🍲
Truth be told Degas hates turnips. Melly had a strange fondness for the root vegetable so he gladly suffered many a meal with them included, but not as the whole meal. What choice do they have? The cucumber crop had failed and they were left with enough of the small bulbs to haunt his nightmares for weeks to come.
Perhaps some of the newcomers like turnips. If they don’t, well. Not eating is always an option, but hopefully some make an appearance for company alone.
Across the tables is a spread of various turnip dishes; soups, stews, a questionable attempt at turnip cake topped with whipped turnip frosting, turnip chips and fries, turnip sandwiches made with fried turnips in the middle. Ghastly stuff. Occasionally one might catch the preacher with his nose wrinkled. He seems to gravitate to more creative uses for the vegetable such as turnip ocarinas and turnip bowls. Impractical, sure, but you don’t have to eat a turnip bowl.
“Hello, my friend. I hope you’ve been settling in well?” Degas says in greeting. “I hope you…like turnips. Have you sampled anything yet? The cookies perhaps?” Just ignore how he seems to shiver at the very suggestion.
Potluck
"Honestly, Pal, I've never seen anything like it," he drawls in a gravelly Southern voice. "I had no idea there were so many ways to make the things."
He can take or leave turnips, pretty much. But now he's got no choice but to take them.
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Turnips turnips turnips
Noooo not the turnips!!!
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New Arrivals
... she's maybe a tad overwhelmed, huh?
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Arrivals
Focusing on his question, she glanced around. "I mean, I was told I would be coming here, so I know where I am. Kind of. True, it's not where I intended to be but it's preferable to Hell. Unless...this is Hell."
She paused as though she hadn't considered that part and suddenly she was sighing as she focused her whiskey-colored gaze on the man again, tilting her head to the side. "Have you seen an unnaturally tall man that possesses a sort of dramatic, stern nature and a grumpy look on his face almost all the time? Wears a sort of long leather jacket? Duster, is that it? I think that's what it's called. I could never wear one but I suppose he pulls it off."
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New Arrivals
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Dahlia Leeds || NPC || OTA
Most afternoons it was easy to find Dahlia bustling about Town Hall, attending meetings or sorting through the archives there. Today was no exception, although Town Hall had been much busier as of late. All these new arrivals!
And there in the lobby, she spotted another. She smiled, setting her hand on the currently unoccupied front desk. "Hello there! Have you been helped yet?"
- The Brutoks -
"Shoo, shoo!"
Front doors of Greymare Library flung wide open, the blonde woman standing beneath the frame swatted a pair of screeching Brutoks out with a broom, swatting at their behinds repeatedly. The sound of their cries was like steam squealing out of a tea kettle but louder and warbling, though it seemed as if they were just making noise for the sake of it, given that the swatting was effective only for moving them and little else. Still, they took off down the street and disappeared into a bush.
"Ugh!" Dahlia stormed out of the library in a huff, still clinging to the broom. She began checking for something around the perimeter, rummaging through the topiaries on the lawn. "It's got to be around here somewhere. Where did you little monsters hide it?"
The Burtoks!
"Hey, uh, do you need a hand?"
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gen
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Burtoks
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Brutoks!
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Milo Fields [OC, OTA]
A plot of land, some tools, and a couple of seeds. Plus an ocean to fish in and a forest to hunt. What else could a guy need? It wasn't his camper, which was a bummer. But a fresh start never hurts either. Besides, a few months down the line and some hard work, and he'd be home in no time! There was no need to rush.
When you grow up on a farm in Ohio, working the land is like riding a bike. It never really leaves you. He quickly got to work setting up a nice little potato patch.
Town Hall gave out plots of land in order of who accepted the farmer role, and with Milo evidently being the first, he was the first on the road from the trolley station and therefore in full view of anyone exiting the stop at Northwest Hollow. And he's always happy to strike up a conversation, even if he is digging holes in the yard with one arm and no shirt.
- Into the Woods -
Having read the news, Milo was careful as he proceeded into the woods to find himself some firewood. He couldn't exactly go without, but he didn't plan on staying too long. These Brutok things sounded like nasty pieces of work.
His concern for his own safety, however, went right out the window the moment he heard what sounded like screaming in the woods. Maybe it was a fox, or an accident, but the chances of it being someone being dragged off by Brutoks was greater than zero. He wasn't going to take any chances.
"Hey!" he called out, running in the direction of the call. "You okay out there?!"
- Time for Turnips -
Perhaps it was a controversial opinion, but Milo always thought turnips were delicious. They were a staple of his uncle's roasted vegetable medley, which was his signature contribution to holiday meals. And Milo was a big guy with a proportional appetite. If these people needed some help eating some turnips, who was he to deny the call to action?
He showed up to the potluck with his clothes freshly laundered and his empty left sleeve tied as neatly as he could manage, finding a table to join. "This seat taken?"
Turnips
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Farmboy at Heart
Oh hey boo <3
haaaaay!
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ahri | league of legends | ota
▒▒▒ 𝐢𝐢. 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒
Creepy Little Trees
[ Zelda gasped in surprise as she turned around to see the flailing Brutok. ]
Oh dear. Thank you, miss, those things have been following me everywhere. I've yet to figure out how to get rid of them, and I would very much like to avoid the, ah--- impending tree debacle.
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Arrival!
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Arrival
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Zelda [BOTW/TOTK] || OTA!
Zelda had tactfully ignored the odd looks she'd received from the town council person who signed her up for the fisherman career, as well as the ones given to her by the salt-crusted crewmen down at the docks. She knew she didn't look the type to be spending days at a time on a fishing boat. But she was a perfectly competent sailor, and stronger than she looked. She could hold her own just fine, and it would give her a chance to investigate the sea life and perhaps dredge for debris with clues to this island's mysteries.
With her meager bag of possessions thrown over her shoulder, she made her way across the gangway and below the deck to the crew cabin, selecting a hammock. With that task done, she tentatively began looking for her crewmates. Perhaps there were other newcomers to Marrow Isle who had joined this line of work?
- Brutok Invasion -
When Zelda had first started seeing signs of the Brutoks from the paper around her home, she had halfway hoped that while she was away at sea the little troublemakers would get bored by her not being home and leave.
This was, in fact, not the case.
She found this out the hard way when walking home from the docks and treading carelessly a pile of leaves that would have been quite conspicuous to a warier eye. Underneath was a rope-pull trap, catching her ankle and whisking her upwards into a tree. She hung upside down now, struggling helplessly to get herself down.
"Oh!" She let out a huff as she tried to kick herself free. "Help! Can anyone hear me?!"
Hopefully it wouldn't be too long before someone came through this part of town.
Burtok Invasion!
Even under fabric she can easily hear the cry for help, however! It doesn't take her long to track the source and stumble upon Zelda ensnared in a trap.
"Oh! Prrray, stay still!" She calls out, over-exaggerating her r's out of habit. "How ever did you end up upside-down!?"
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She Sings Sea Shanties
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Re: Zelda [BOTW/TOTK] || 🎣
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Link | The Legend of Zelda: BOTW/TOTK [OTA]
[ You'd think he'd be used to waking up not quite knowing what was going on by now, but it never seemed to get any less vexing.
Everything came as a bit of a blur. One minute, he was on a ship, surrounded by many people wearing similar expressions and clothing to his own. Then there was the dock, and the people filed out. (It, at the very least, wasn't a desolate wake-up call this time, and Link was thankful that much.)
Then came the tavern, and now, here he was, standing just outside of it. Fresh linens were nice, and the room he'd been given was cozy enough, but there was much of the town he'd need to understand the lay of. There was much to see, though, and with that came some indecision. Where to start? What to see first? Who to meet that might be able to fill in some of the gaps that his initial tour didn't quite get around to?
Unfortunately, when he'd decided to turn on a whim and march down the cobbled street towards whatever caught his eye first, he wasn't being quite as aware of his surroundings as he likely ought to have been, and tromped headlong straight into one of his new fellow denizens. Great going, hero. ]
-----
ii. Creepy Little Trees
[ Familiarity, what a beautiful thing, even when found in the strangest places!
From the second he caught eye of a brick out of place on a stack, Link was practically like a man possessed. Sure, there was no pleasant jingle, no rewards from delightful little forest friends, but the hollow-wood rattle in the distance was reward enough. These were puzzles, and he was bound and determined to solve them with a determination that blazed with a fiery enthusiasm.
An enthusiasm that was hilariously used to stack small stones in circles and right twigs that were askew, but an enthusiasm nonetheless.
From shortly after he woke up until the sun began to set, Link had scoured the town, finding every puzzle that he could get his hands on to solve, absolutely overjoyed in doing so.
Even now, as the sun set lazily on the horizon, was he sizing up a fairly large stone that was settled beside a building, eyeing it and the perfectly-stone-sized core of a tree just at the forest's edge. It was only then did he catch eye of an onlooker, and offered a smile their way, bright and brimming with energy. ]
"Hoy! Would you be willing to give me a hand with this? It's not too heavy, but it's a little unwieldy."
Puzzle Madness
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Arrival!
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sorry again for mobile html fail xD;
no worries!! i didn't even notice it! :D <3
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Neil West || NPC, OTA
However, in front of the building there is a carefully painted wooden sign reading "West Dream Analytics - Sleep Therapy and Dream Psychology" out front. Someone is working out of their home. The sign in the window reads "Open". Will you enter?
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"Huh...dream analytics."
Well, why not? The open sign is an invitation and Lucas is taking it. He opens the door with a friendly call out of, "Hello?"
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Ianto Jones | Torchwood/Doctor Who
When he'd woken up beneath a woven throw, or...tapestry of some kind, Ianto's first thought was that he'd just fallen asleep. He'd been through hell, Jack was gone--well and truly gone--bloody hell, he'd thought, at first, he was covered in that damnable greatcoat when he woke on the sofa, the last remnant that remained of Captain Jack Harkness.
Turns out? Not so much.
The ferry to this island was an uneventful trip, and hardly much of a decision to make. Ianto had a lot to atone for, and unlike most? Needed little in the way of convincing.
After all, when one witnesses the end of days, so to speak, and one's day job is employment by an organization devoted to combating and assessing alien threats to one's planet, one can swallow some fairly large pills. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
He settles in rather quickly in his room at the Oak & Iron, and in fairly short order comes to a simple, critical conclusion.
What passes for coffee in this quaint little settlement is absolute bollocks, and something must be done.
Finishing breakfast one morning, Ianto rises from his table and heads towards the bar to see about making an inquiry regarding cafes in the area when he very nearly bumps into someone. With a dexterity borne of experience, he catches the other person's shoulders, tugs them with him as he sidesteps and oncoming server, then lets his hands rest more heavily on their shoulders to steady them before offering up a politely apologetic smile.
"Sorry about that--you all right, then?"
Turnips, Turnips, Everywhere
When he reads about the potluck in the paper, Ianto doesn't think much of it...but there are a surplus of turnips in town, and he's growing fair sick of them in his eggs every bloody morning...
It's a bit difficult to manage, with the abundance of turnips and the lack of much else, but a few polite inquiries and the kind of charm that gets the team shut of the police without Gwen's help back home allows him access to the Oak & Iron's kitchen and larder. With a little elbow grease, creativity, and his mam's family recipe, Ianto puts together a cawl stew fit for a king--and makes plenty to keep for a week or so.
If he's going to be eating turnips for the foreseeable future, might as well be with some flavor.
While the lion's share keeps in the tavern kitchen, he arrives at the pot luck with a large pot of the stuff, plus a nice, big loaf of crusty bread donated by the tavern kitchen, Ianto arrives to the potluck a little early to add his stew and bread to the dishes already set up before he goes about sampling a few other creative uses of turnips. That, and socializing.
Or what looks like socializing. Frankly, Ianto isn't sure he knows how to do that anymore: enjoy the company of others without assessing them, playing games with words to suss out secrets and intent over simply engaging in conversation for the sake of dispelling loneliness.
Even the most banal social interaction requires a certain measure of trust, and Ianto isn't certain he has any left to give.
Turnip time!
Until she catches the whiff of something that smells heavenly, that is!
"Oooh, and what is this?" While asking no one in particular she does glance about to see if anyone will take credit for creating this delightful dish!
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ARRIVAL
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Turnips, Turnips, Everywhere
Y E S! XD
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Lord Erik Osborne | OC | OTA
Arrival - mostly flavor
That white haired woman was quite insistent that he take the hot chocolate and drink it. He did try to tell her it would be wasted on him, as he cannot taste it, but she didn't seem much interested in listening. By the time she explains he's dead, he can feel a derisive laugh rising up. Well, of course he is? He's a vampire. But, no, this seems more serious than that. Tempting as it is to tell her to go to hell and take her tasteless hot chocolate with her, he is intrigued. He grudgingly agrees to play her game for now.
He almost immediately regrets that when he blinks and finds himself on a ferry at sea, of all places. The significance of the fee paid is not lost on him. He's starting to worry that maybe this is more than just a game. The annoying chatter of this man that's been sent to meet him does nothing to improve the impression he's getting. What a relief that, at least, that the Mayor Poe is more willing to be reasonable about things. Or, so he thought until she mentions an outbreak of vampires. He decides, very pointedly, not to mention that he is one unless it becomes necessary.
By the time she releases him to Yorick's care once more, he's feeling an uneasiness he hasn't experienced in decades. He lets that man do most of the talking on their way to the tavern while he mulls this over. Once he's checked in at The Oak & Iron and as settled as it's possible to be, he's left to explore this new town for himself.
The first thing he needs to do is discover if there's a food source he can rely on. He feels horribly under dressed walking about the cobblestone in nothing but a linen shirt and trousers. It and the buildings remind him of a time long gone. It seems as if he's not only been thrown into another world but back in time. Ah, well, he's lived like this before. He supposes he can adjust.
When he spots someone walking up ahead wearing roughly the same kind of garment as him, he decides to take a chance and see if he isn't the only new and confused face in town. "Excuse me," he calls, speeding up to meet them. "Are you familiar with this area?"
Brutok
Without knowing if it is safe to prey on the people in town, Erik decides the smarter short-term solution to his specific dietary needs is to hunt in the woods. Yes, yes, he was warned that there are dangerous beasts out there. But he is also a dangerous beast and he has no fear of the dark.
Perhaps he should have cultivated some.
"What are these cursed creatures?" he hisses as a group of small twig-like beings start to swarm him. "Get away from me you little nuisances!" He kicks the nearest one and sends it spinning off into the underbrush, this seems to only enrage the rest who all lunge for him at once.
"Argh!"
Potluck
"How quaint..." he says with disdain as he traverses around the gathering turning his nose up at every dish he's presented with. He can actually recall the taste of a turnip in the vaguest of senses, but it wasn't his favorite when he was alive and the smell holds no nostalgia for him now, either.
"Is this all there is to do for fun around here?"
Wildcard
Message me if you want a custom scenario or just hit me with it! I can roll with whatever.
Oh hello there >:] it's forest time!
Just kidding, he totally goes into the forest by himself.
At first it almost reminds the Medium of home, not a far drive from his sleepy little town. The sun still pokes out behind leaves, the quiet sounds of birds and other small creatures can be heard as he cautiously makes his way forward. It's not long before these are placed by growing darkness and the sound of...screaming?
Charging forward with reckless abandon Lucas swings around a large tree to find a man covered head to toe in angry little leaf demons! He yells as he gets within arm's reach, starting to chuck the little guys off into the underbrush, "Hey! HEY! Get off of him you little leafy bastards!"
<3
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brutok
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Nieve Winslow (OC) - OPEN
Nieve was taking the whole thing pretty well or so she wanted to tell herself. The woman at the start had been somewhat helpful; not entirely but just enough to make the decision easy for Nieve as she had no desire to move onto the afterlife as of yet. Not when she considered that it might be a trap laid out for her by the Shade.
Or maybe this was the Trap?
She didn't think so but it was still a possibility that she was rolling around in her head as she made her way to the Tavern and inside. True to the Mayor's word, she was given a room. She'd had better but she decided it was cozy enough to serve its purpose, especially as she moved back to the door after looking around inside of the room and curled her hand around the doorknob. Whispering to herself, she closed her eyes for a second before pulling open the door and stepping forward...into the hallway.
Pausing with a frown, she looked around before immediately stalking back into her room and closing the door. Just a few seconds later, she was stepping out, looking around with a frown, and then walking back in. It didn't cross her mind that she looked rather strange as she repeated this action over and over, clearly getting a little more frustrated each time she found herself in the hallway.
POTLUCK
Turnips.
Nieve couldn't help the disturbed little scowl on her face as she looked over the dishes that seemed to be all made of one thing. Turnips.
"I suppose there are worse things," she commented out loud as she scooped some food onto her plate, glancing around as she tried to figure out what all she might actually try to see if she could stomach it. She could have used magic to change some things but she was quickly coming to learn that her magic had a habit of going a bit..awry in this place. Which was interesting, to say the least, and frustrating.
"Do you think the Burtoks would eat turnips?" She asked suddenly, glancing at whoever was standing nearby, her brows lifted curiously. "Perhaps if we left them some as an offering? Or do you think that would backfire horribly?"
Potluck!
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Arrival
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Arrival
Re: Arrival
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Andy Shepard (OC) - OTA
Andy sat at the edge of the bed, eyes wide but mind engaged elsewhere. She was less concerned with the room and more with putting together the pieces of the last few hours. This morning she'd started her day as usual, set out for a day hike, and then...a room, beige, a woman, that headache--
"I died." Even as she said the words, Andy couldn't quite believe it. In any case, here she was, having followed every direction--the woman's, the ferryman's, the mayor's--and ending up at this place. The Oak & Iron. She'd written several posts for her blog about lucid dreaming in the past, but this didn't feel like that. This felt real, but it couldn't be real. Or could it?
After a few self-inflicted pinches--ouch, that one might bruise--Andy finally stood, accepting that whatever this was wasn't going to be solved by staring blankly at the wall. A dream, a parallel universe, some strange form of amnesia...whatever the source may be, there were walking, talking people outside of this room. A whole town of them, it seemed. She'd still been half-dazed when she spoke to the Mayor, but it sounded like Andy wasn't the only one experiencing...something unusual.
A deep breath--or two, or three--and a brief moment of panic later, Andy opens the door, peering around the corner like a teenager sneaking out of the house.
BRUTOK.
As she set out to explore, Andy swiped a stray newspaper, hoping it might shed some light on just what exactly was going on. She walked slowly, eyes glued to the page as she scanned the text with desperation. As she internalized the words, her confusion only intensified. Multiple sightings...gnarled limbs...woodland spirits... "Trees that look like people?" Andy faltered, stopping short and nearly tearing the delicate newsprint apart in her hands. Andy was no stranger to remarkable sightings or bizarre stories. In fact, this article is exactly like something she'd have posted on her own site. But front page news? She looked around, half expecting a troop of cameramen to erupt from a thicket and announce she's been pranked on live TV.
If this newspaper was real, and this article wasn't just some puff piece that some sleep-deprived editor let slip past in the proof, then Andy definitely needed to follow up. If she ever made it back home--a pang in her chest at the thought--then this whole ordeal would either boost her readership tenfold or cement her place among the internet's top bullshitters.
POTLUCK.
Perhaps even unlikelier than the Brutok story gracing the front page was the normality with which the paper proclaimed a witch hexed the spring crops. Andy didn't know whether to laugh or rejoice as she strolled into the Cucumber-Festival-turned-turnip-potluck at the Temple of Sacred Roots. Pausing at the boundary of the property to marvel at the stained glass windows, Andy realized she couldn't recall the last time she'd stepped foot in a church.
Hands deep in the pockets of her loose-fitting jeans, Andy approached the potluck, trying not to stare too long at any one person as she scanned the attendees. Perhaps she was hoping to recognize someone, find some indication that her appearance here wasn't a totally random twist of fate. Instead, the faces all belonged to strangers. Joining a cluster of people huddling around a table, scooping food onto plates, she smiled towards the person next to her. "Did you know turnips are a part of the mustard family?"
Potluck!
"I'm afraid I know very little about farming. Melly had the green thumb of the family." he offers a tight smile, restrained but genuine. "Are you a farmer, miss? A gardener, perhaps?"
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Burtoks!
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Hallie Mathews (OC) \ Open
In retrospect, Hallie isn't entirely sure they know what drove them to go straight from the dock to the woods like this. ... Or, well, obviously it was the rumors of little tree people acting out, but why in the world Hallie's response was "investigate immediately" instead of "put a pin in that and figure out literally anything else first" was a mystery.
"At least they haven't tried murdering me?" Hallie grumbled, thoroughly lost. "... This was a bad idea. I don't even know what direction anything is."
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And Hallie would find that yes, something was watching them.
Beyond a crop of trees, peeking just around a pine's snarled truck, is a hooded figure. The shadows obscure any features, but Hallie just might make out that they are human-like in shape.
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Cameron Abraham | OC (CW for general violence & graphic/gory/violent imagery)
Being dead he could handle. Settling into the afterlife equivalent of Victorian New England wasn't a problem, given his heritage. Having to be...idle? That was going to make him dangerous before long.
Thank the good Lord on fucking high for those mangy little tree gremlins.
The minute Cameron Abraham hears about the brutoks, he learns all he can. Worthless pests are fun to crush, but the kidnapping and death by magic? It's the right thing to hear, because at least it'll help him to kill with some composure.
First, look after the innocent. Then he can have some fun snapping necks and crushing skulls.
He's studiously reminding himself of that fact when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. With the trained reflexes of a hunter, Cameron dives, grabs the little creature by the throat, and as it shrieks proceeds to simply slam his fist into its face, over and over, until when he drops the creature it barely manages to scuttle away with a range of shrill, mournful sounds of agony until its out of sight.
Glancing around, Cameron spots someone who had clearly ducked for cover and manages his most cordial smile.
"All clear--I don't think that little critter will be troubling you again." he declares, mild and pleasant.
Turnips, Turnips, Turnips
Cameron knows when to keep silent. This? This is one of those times.
Because he loves turnips.
Wandering the potluck, perusing the dishes laid out, he's carefully neutral as he listens to everyone complain, watches them make faces and wrinkle their noses at the array of turnip cuisine--and fills his plate at his leisure. Soups, sandwiches, and are those turnip cupcakes?...
This is one man who's good at passing for normal--but anyone who takes note of his unabashed enthusiasm in sampling everything he possibly can will easily be able to spot the fact that this otherwise innocuous, handsome to the point of banality, sturdy looking guy, just doesn't belong.
Brutoks
"Seems cruel, after how you brutalized it, to let the pitiful thing live. But I'm sure you're right. It won't be back soon."
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turnips!
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Maneet Pashan || OC || OTA
The first thing Maneet did when she arrived was buy an umbrella. The sunlight wouldn't kill her outright, but it wasn't comfortable on her eyes or her skin. Would she get some weird looks walking around in broad daylight with an umbrella while no clouds were in sight? Sure. But she was used to that. What she wasn't used to was this stupid outfit.
Well, there are worse things. Like whatever's in that forest.
Maneet was content to spend some time wandering around during the day, getting the lay of the land. But as the sun descended, the Brutoks ceased to be limited to the forests. With her sharp senses, Maneet could feel their hollow little eyes following her through the town. It was no wonder the townspeople had warned everyone to stay in after dark. Hopefully the little things didn't decide to close in on her... If only she could remember the way back to that tavern.
Man, when she got home, this was going to make a hell of a movie plot.
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Fumbling with his lantern Lucas decides the best course of action might be to book it to the inn for the night. Sure, he has his little place on the outskirts of town, but he's rather not end up in the woods as a tree. Not even for science's sake.
He is surprised to see someone else out, though. The streets were otherwise empty. He gives a friendly wave before approaching, "Hey there! Probably not the best idea to be out this late. You need a walking buddy?"
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Brutoks
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Kurt Wagner | Marvel Comics
Obediently enough, Kurt followed Yorick to the Town Hall and took the map he was given, listening patiently and seldom interjecting - normally he would be more talkative, but he was still feeling confused and anxious about his encounter on the boat, the white-haired woman, and his arrival here. He did manage to inquire about other recent arrivals, but didn't get much information other than that there had been some.
Stepping out of the building and back onto the streets, he found himself back by the docks, looking for familiar faces. In all of their travels through alternate Earths, his team - Excalibur - had always ended up more or less together, and he had hoped somehow that would still be the case despite what he'd been told on the way here. Not that he wanted them to be dead, or not-quite dead, or whatever was going on here, but he very much did not want to be alone and separated from his team.
Finally, he felt he had no choice and approached a stranger at random, holding up one hand as if to say 'I come in peace' as he stepped towards them - he knew his appearance could be intimidating, to say the least, and wanted to make a good impression - asking, "Excuse me, have you by any chance seen a group of other newcomers here? A man, and three women perhaps?"
.||. little trees .||.
Somehow, the news that there were angry, spiteful little tree spirits tormenting the people of the town Kurt had very recently become a resident of felt very in keeping with the whole bizarre place, and having long since learned to take the peculiarities of other worlds in stride, Kurt decided to see this as more of an opportunity to help out than anything else. And so, into the woods he went, though he tried to be smart about his approach - the Brutoks seemed to be ground-dwelling folk, so he made his way through the tree branches, 'porting as necessary when the distance between trees was too great for him to jump, though that didn't happen very often.
He stopped when he heard the sounds of someone [in distress / in a fight - your choice!], getting closer to get a look at what was going on before flipping down to the ground level. "Need some assistance?" He asked, with a self-assured smile. This was a much more familiar circumstance to find himself in than he'd managed since arriving here, and the routine was comforting as much as it was, as always, a bit exciting.
Little trees!
Only this time they weren't being mischievous little trap-makers! The little fiends had nabbed the miqo'te while she was inspecting a curious tree full of shiny trinkets and were now dragging her kicking and screaming through the woods. Her longer nails scrabble in the underbrush and dirt for purchase, tail fur and ear fluff bristled out, her face streaked with mud and tears as she cried out. "Unhand me this instant! Someone! ANYONE! HELP ME! I don't want to be a tree!!"
She wasn't expecting anyone to be out the woods, so the sudden appearance of a blue man caused a new round of shrieking! "AIEEEEE! HELP M-ME!!!"
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Arrival
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Jack Spicer | Xiaolin Showdown | OTA
[Aesthetically, Jack fits in almost too well with the creepy vibes of this place, with his eerily pale complexion and bright red eyes and hair, looking like the demonic ghost of a drowned Victorian lad in the plain shirt and trousers he showed up in. Functionally? He hates it here, get him out of this po-dunk town that's never so much as heard of dial-up!]
Ugh, can you believe this? [Is he talking to you? He doesn't seem to be talking to anyone, actually. Just bitching to bitch.] How is an evil genius meant to work in these conditions? No lab, no computers, not so much as a TI-84! This is so lame! [He crosses his arms across his chest, scowling exaggeratedly. Realizing he's caught attention with his whining, he shoots a glare at anyone staring.]
Hey, you mind not gawking, buddy? You're ruining my brooding sesh!
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[What a lovely day for a walk near the woods, you might think. Perhaps you'll enjoy the peaceful chirping of the birds, maybe the babbling of a brook... well, that's just too bad, because what you'll be getting is an unholy shriek. What sort of terrifying abomination could loose a sound like that, you might think.
Luckily, the source of the sound is not hard to spot. It's one Jack Spicer, being hounded by a small group of Brutoks. He trips over a root, recovering spectacularly quickly from a faceplant to scramble away from the plant-like monsters clutching at his legs with loud whimpers.]
Creepy trees! Creepy tree guys! S-Someone-- HELP ME! [Impressive how he can sob, scream, and flail around all at the same time.]
arrival
Then he directly addresses her, the fur of her tail bristles out, hands up in a placating manner. "I wasn't gawking, good ser! I simply couldn't help but to overhear your...ah, complaints."
sorry both for him and for being molasses
lol all good!
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Creepy Trees!
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There's always a bar, and one of the pluses of being him was that Wolverine could always sniff one out without too much trouble. He had a lot to think about and a lot that he didn't want to. There was the possibility, itching at the back of his head that this was another hallucination - another daydream somehow brought on by the sleazoid egg or his own fevered mind. Or maybe he was dead.
Logan tips back his head and takes a long drink from his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He still wasn't sure what'd kept his claws sheathed then that white haired lady had offered him a deal. He snorted at the memory, wishing for a moment for a familiar face to lay his troubles down on. All it served to do was remind him that his friends were still stuck back there, knocked up with sleazoid eggs that were gonna kill them. That might have already killed him. It's the first thought that makes him down the rest of the mug, licking his lips and taking a whiff of the air, watching out of the corner of his eye as someone sat nearby. It was instinct, more than anything else that made him speak up.
"You been here long?" he asks, elbows on the counter and only the slightest turn of his head to indicate who he's addressing. In an idle motion he cracks his knuckles, something almost metallic about the resulting sound.
Creepy Little Trees
It's eyes closed that Logan stands in the middle of the forest, scenting the still slightly unfamiliar air. But a trail is a trail, and stalking down would be missing people is something he can do. He goes slow through the equally unfamiliar forest, ears and nose open to guide him. It's not that he isn't ready for a fight - he could more than use one, but until he gets a better grip on this place he wants this taken care of as quick as possible.
Can't make eye contact with your eyes closed, right? He's distracted if momentarily by a new scent, fists drawn in preparation but claws still sheathed for now.
[Open invitation here - anyone bleeding? Want to take a possibly dangerous chance to surprise him while he's distracted by somehing else - maybe a first whiff of a Brutok?
Is it sulphur?]Creepy Little Trees
The breeze carries a laugh and the damp scent of muddy earth and sage. Someone is close by, perhaps uncomfortably close as the strange man raises his fists. What will he do, they wonder.
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arrival
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