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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.
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."
no subject
Lifting his gaze back to the man in front of him, Cameron offers his good hand to shake, taking the man's measure. Moderately sized, somewhat unremarkable, closed mouth smile. Doesn't mean anything, but it's a common habit among dead vampires--the living can hide their fangs, the dead can't. And dead vampires turn out to be troublemakers more often than living vampires--statistically speaking.
Cameron, however, doesn't trust statistics. If he did, he'd be no better than his family, so he reserves judgment.
"Cameron Abraham, good to know ya."
no subject
That thought does momentarily make him reluctant to take the other's hand. He's sure to notice the difference of temperature. But, Erik is always advocating for his kind being just as civil as any other, so he relents and grips Cameron's hand gently but firmly.
"Lord Erik Osborne, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. What is it you do, Mr. Abraham?"
turnips!
She's been keeping the edge of the festivities, hesitant to truly delve in deep. She stands out too much with the drab linen clothes she woke up in, and the way she holds herself apart -- unlike the townspeople who are so easily mingling and chatting and laughing. And so it's easy to spot another person that looks like he doesn't quite fit in, though he's doing an excellent job of pretending.
"In my opinion, turnips are one of the more boring vegetables. But the people here truly have managed to find an astonishing number of ways to cook them, haven't they?"
Ahri's greeting is low, husky, wryly amused. She's holding a skewer of roasted pieces of turnip, marinaded in a spicy sauce. It's one of the better offerings, she's found.
"You're new," she notes idly. "Did you come here by boat, too?"
no subject
"I did at that." he replies. Dusting some crumbs off his hand, he offers it to her.
"Cameron Abraham, pleasure to meet you--I'm guessing you're a boat arrival as well? Birds of a feather and all that."
no subject
She pulls a piece of roasted turnip off her skewer, chewing delicately. She doesn't need a lot of food -- her diet is distinctly more predatory in nature -- but she does enjoy eating human food here and there. Even this turnip is fairly enjoyable. Ahri casts an assessing gaze over Cameron, vulpine ears cocked curiously.
"Let me guess," she hums, a playful glint in her eyes. "You have a sturdy build; are you a tradesman? A bodyguard, perhaps? If either of those are true, you'll be keenly welcomed here."