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ph_memes2024-06-04 07:30 pm
TDM #6 - The Wheel Turns [REPRINT]
Currently, we are asking that all toplevels include the age of the character (or at least a rough estimate) for TDM posts, to ensure that players both old and new can quickly make informed decisions about how to interact with a given character. We also ask that if someone lists a prompt as having an age preference, that it be respected. This is specifically for TDMs unless otherwise stated. Thank you!
Also, as of June 7th, Pumpkin Hollow will have been around for one whole year! Thanks for an awesome trip around the sun, everybody! Here’s to another! This particular TDM is going to be a celebration of making it through our first year and all the adventures we had along the way, so please enjoy this highlight reel of our year in review and take a crack at some fun you may have missed. Have fun!
[Find our plain text version here!]
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette
5/10/24 | TDM #6 - The Wheel Turns [REPRINT]
Weather Forecast: Fog in early mornings, occasional rain, otherwise clear and slightly hot. Often muggy.
WELCOMING NEW RESIDENTS FOR ONE YEAR AND COUNTING!
By Mayor Hellen Poe
The crop for which the town is named.
ISLAND-WIDE - Last June, Jack’s Marina saw its first overseas vessel in five years come into port as the very first ferry arrived. Ever since that fateful day, that same ferry has ushered in newcomers from all over this wide, wild universe, bringing to this island a multitude of individuals. Each new resident has been unique --- most have been the only person from their world of origin, and each has their own skills and knowledge. However, all of them are unified by one characteristic: they have served as a symbol of hope.
Our island is deeply cursed, of that, there is no question. And in the past year, we have faced many challenges together, from cursed pirate treasure to nightmare carnivals, from food shortage to turnip overflow, from train rides to alternate dimensions to a parasite-infested ship. But in overcoming those challenges we have grown stronger as a community.
As the Wheel of the Year turns once more, we move forward with the hope built for us by our newest residents, and we are pleased to continue welcoming ferries into our docks. If you’ve just arrived, please feel free to stop by Town Hall or reach out to any of your new neighbors for assistance. Welcome, offworlders, and may your lanterns always be lit.
LAKE SAL-CO-PENN FOG ADVISORY
By Yorick Aberdeen
An eerie view of the notorious lake.
LOCKWOOD FOREST (Northern Marrow Isle) -The Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety has released an important new weather advisory for everyone traveling through Lockwood Forest toward Paradesium on foot. As most of us are aware, the intense rain last month resulted in some very high humidity for this time of year, especially given that this time of year is still quite cool. This has resulted in some heavy fog around the notorious Lake Sal-Co-Penn at the base of Crane’s Ridge, particularly in the very early mornings and late afternoons as the sun begins to set.
For those not yet aware, Lake Sal-Co-Penn’s fog draws those exposed closer to the lake, where it will then subject the victim to dangerous illusory experiences. The side effects of these illusions include but are not limited to foul smells, supernatural compulsion, panic attacks, drowning, and death. If you come into contact with the fog from proximity to the lake, don’t panic! Once you see where the lake itself is, turn around so that your back is to the water and begin walking straight ahead as quickly as possible while reassuring yourself that you do not recognize the bodies in the water. Safe travels!
PAST FRIGHTS MAKE ROTATING ENCORES
By Chief Constable Janine Kilbride
ISLAND-WIDE - Reconnaissance officers set out by the constabulary, in conjunction with the Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety, have reported multiple sightings of various hostile monsters and spirits that have plagued our town over the past year. These beings include recurring island staples such as Brutoks and the River Walker, as well as newer aggressive entities such as the Tristitia and some carnivorous creatures from Paradesium. They appear to be on some sort of rotation as to which will appear on a given day.
While the Board of Safety continues to monitor the situation and test theories about an observable pattern, please travel safely regardless of time of day or location. Report any monster sightings directly to the nearest Enforcer and keep an eye on the community bulletin board for information as this situation develops.
PUMPKIN HOLLOW JOB FAIR
By Yorick Aberdeen
FESTIVAL GREEN - Due to the success of our planting season recruitment efforts over the previous months, Pumpkin Hollow’s Town Council will be expanding upon its initiative to help people seek out career opportunities in a local Job Fair! Come down to the festival green if you’re interested in a new job, and one of our seasoned artisans and skilled laborers will show you the ropes!
MAGICAL CRITTERS GRACE ISLAND ONCE MORE
By Yorick Aberdeen
A little friend in the Festival Green tulips.
VARIOUS LOCATIONS (Lockwood Forest, Crane’s Ridge, Paradesium) - This past autumn, a host of eerie, magical animals resembling ghosts took over Lockwood Forest, but departed just as mysteriously as they’d arrived by the end of November. These creatures of unknown origin were found to possess incredible power, and while some were hostile, others seemed quite friendly and were content to follow us home. Those that decided upon homes remained even when their brethren vanished with the snowfall.
Now it would appear that another wave of these helpful companions has appeared in the wild! While some are familiar, many of them are entirely new. Most seem to bear plant-like features, but some whimsical pink creatures or pastry-themed animals have been spotted as well. If the pattern follows, they should be around until summer reaches its peak, so go out there and make a friend, and make sure to bring treats!
HELP WANTED: Piano Wrangler
By Dottie Siward, owner of Empty Pockets
DOWNTOWN HOLLOW (Empty Pockets Music Lounge) - Local music lounge seeking assistance taming piano mimic(?) acquired from Calloway’s Curios. Our old piano got bashed to bits in the flood a while back and we bought a fancy new grand piano for a ridiculously low price, especially for Calloway’s. This was a terrible mistake. The piano eats people. Especially people who play badly, which happens a lot on open stage nights. Please help. Half-price drinks for life to anyone who can get this thing to behave, at least until we get a new piano.
Page 1
Year in Review
Monsters from our previous TDMs will be making victory laps in a week-long rotation. Which creature you’ll encounter depends upon the day!
Monday's Child is Fair of Face [cw: facial mutilation]
On Mondays, Smiling Jack from TDM#3 - "It Came from Beyond the Veil!” will appear in and around the cemeteries and farmlands, primarily at night. He is a hostile spirit with a Jack-o-Lantern over his head to hide his Glasgow smile. He attempts to make his victims laugh with morbid jokes and pranks and will attack those who do not find his antics funny, exposing his mutilated face and inflicting his same injuries on them. Those who do laugh will be followed until they cross paths with someone new for him to torment. Defeat him by breaking his pumpkin head!Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace
On Tuesday nights, starry-bodied, glittering monsters themed around constellations from TDM #4 -”Aurora Borealis Blitz” can be found roaming the streets and beaches looking for people to aggress. They only appear interested in people, not in buildings. Unlike the previous iteration, they do not require the aurora borealis or a clear sky to manifest, but there are also significantly fewer of them and they do not seem interested in doing any property damage. Defeat them in combat to get a handful of magical stardust! Each monster’s worth of stardust grants one of the following wishes if tossed into the wind:Luck: One unexpected fortunate circumstance occurs organically within the next 24 hours, and any dice rolls made during the OOC week will gain a bonus of +2.
Shimmer: A Shiny Pokemon will appear.
Weather: You can decide the weather for the next day, which can only be interrupted by Cecil Palmer’s Weather with consent from the user.
Fortune: Gain 10 Brass! Wow!
Abundance: Mysteriously acquire one delicious home-cooked meal of your choice with no apparent source.
Safety:: One immediate respawn from death (only works once per character for duration of the game).
Pants: A fabulous new pair of pants, free of charge.
Those who acquired stardust in the prior TDM can now use it for these purposes.
Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe
One of the island’s local cryptids, the Tristitia, can be found wandering the streets of town on Wednesdays. She originated from player action but made her first official appearance on TDM #5 - “Paradesium”. She is a banshee-like evil spirit appearing as a veiled woman with a hollowed-out chest. While normally she is not particularly aggressive if given a wide berth, on her day of the week she has become more hostile. She is ever-grieving and will attempt to embrace her victims and force them to share in her anguish by drawing out their personal trauma and sadness. She is extremely difficult to kill, but will vanish on her own when satisfied with her work.
Thursday's Child Has Far to Go
On Thursday afternoons, Greenstriders from TDM #5 - “Paradesium” can be found coming all the way up from the underground jungles of Paradesium to hunt and forage in Lockwood Forest, even coming as far as Northwest Hollow to try and steal from farmers. They are violent, loud, aggressive, and venomous, and they work in small packs. Good luck if you get caught outside on a Thursday.Monsters from Paradesium, including Greenstriders, were studied and reported on during an expedition led by Dr. Elias Coldwood. More extensive notes on greenstriders can be found in Dr. Coldwood's improved besiary.
Friday's Child is Loving and Giving
Featured in our December Mini TDM - “The Dead of Winter,” the Whispering Trees of Lockwood Forest are found to be active throughout the day on Friday. Gentle voices from the trees lure unsuspecting, emotionally vulnerable victims out into the woods by telling them that they are loved--- moreso by the trees than any other time in their lives. Following their dulcet tones resulted in hypothermia back in December, but without the aid of snow, the trees will now attempt to manipulate their victims into other deadly behaviors. Lovebombing has never been so toxic.Saturday's Child Works Hard for a Living
On Saturdays, the River Walker from TDM #2 - “Down in the Underground” will be skulking around the Paring River which separates the town from the forest. A spider-like monstrosity with chitinous legs resembling rough hewn wood that bears the face of a drowned woman, the River Walker enjoys catching people unawares and knocking them unconscious. It then drags its victims down to labyrinthine tunnels where it will chase them through the claustrophobia-inducing burrows for hours and hours at a time, catching and killing them only when all hope is lost. However, the River Walker is quite weak and can only fight off one assailant at a time. Occasionally one can stop the Walker from kidnapping someone, but this is challenging as the creature is quite sneaky. The best way to defeat it is for two victims to find each other by sound in the tunnels and work together to escape, at which point the River Walker will avoid the pair and let them go for fear of retaliation. Escapees are let out near the mines in Crane’s Ridge!And the Child Born on the Sabbath Day is Bonny and Blithe, Good and Gay
Last but not least, on Sundays during daylight hours, one has a chance of being targeted by one or more Brutoks. Having been the very first monster to ever appear in a Pumpkin Hollow event, they were featured in TDM #1 - “The Vengeful Forest”. Brutoks are tricksters who hide in trees and then attach themselves to victims who make accidental eye contact. If attached, they will pull mean spirited pranks, steal personal belongings, vandalize property, and eventually try to kidnap the victim. Taken victims will be planted in the ground and slowly turn into trees that must be destroyed in order for the person to die and resurrect. To dispel Brutoks, one can look for their simple but well-camouflaged puzzles, which will be outside near the space they’ve attached to. Or, you can set them on fire. Dealer’s choice.
Additional Prompts
Lake Sal-Co-Penn
Lake Sal-Co-Penn is an infamous SCP which creates dangerous hallucinations. It presents the viewer with a vision of one or more floating corpses, which appear vaguely featureless until closer inspection. At this point the corpse(s) will take on the form of someone who the victim knows personally in an attempt to get them to enter the water, where they will be drowned and consumed. Feel free to roll dice to determine how well you can resist the illusion, and don’t forget to fill out a Death Certificate if you die!
Magical Creatures
The aforementioned mystical critters are Pokemon! Some Pokemon already exist on the island--- Ghost types were available during October and November. This time, both Fairy and Grass types can be found around the island for the duration of this TDM! (May & June). Here’s everything you need to know:
- Dual-types and pre-evolved forms of Pokemon that will gain Fairy or Grass types later are available. (Except for Eevee, due to its many evolutions. But Sylveon and Leafeon are available!)
- Evolution is possible--- stone deposits will be found in the mines later!
- Each character may have up to three Pokemon companions
- Neither Pokeballs nor the knowledge to create them currently exists in Pumpkin Hollow. Unless a PC with this knowledge shows up, you will just have to befriend them rather than capturing them properly.
- No Legendaries or Mythicals are available for adoption (for the sake of fairness), though Ogerpon can be found near Elsie’s Tree of Trinkets in Lockwood Forest. However, she is extremely shy and will flee from most people. She seems to respond to certain individuals, though…
- Shinies can be obtained through stardust or by purchasing a Sparkling Talisman from Calloway’s Curios for 50 Brass. Each character may only have one shiny. (Note that new arrivals begin with 100 Brass.)
Job Fair
The Pumpkin Hollow Job Fair is a great meet-and-greet for older residents and new arrivals! Farmers, artisans, fisherman, and more can set up booths, Q&As, or sign-ups for job shadowing on the Festival Green. New folks are given the opportunity to drop by and learn more about potential career options! Not only is this a recipe for new CR, but anyone who participates in a Job Fair thread (both presenters and newcomers) will gain an extra 100 Brass on their next (or first!) activity check! This bonus can only be claimed once per character.
Help Wanted
The man-eating piano in question is Yamaha, a staple of a previous game that much of our current player-base has migrated over from. While it has a particular taste for bad players, mistake-makers, and your sheet music, it seems to have an affinity for specific individuals. This is mostly a treat for our CRAU folks, but feel free to get eaten! We’ll see you tomorrow.
The Return (cw: mention of blood, mental horror, unreality)
We can feel you twist. Your 'you' still smells slick with blood. How long has it been, since you were drawn and pulled into this shape, mind-flesh made ductile and drawn into the ever-coiling? Tell us! Tell us! Scream, scream, scream!
Its wings seem to unfurl on some level of reality as it 'talks,' to become glittering motes of iridescent scales, shivering and shimmering on the static hum of the Gone Sideways, the Half an Inch to the Left, the Never One Thing.
no subject
Jeff regards the little impossibility with reverence, joy, and a vicious longing, and he lifts a finger to the butterfly, inviting it to perch itself on his hand. He doesn't know what it is or where it came from, but he knows that feeling of like and same, and at once, that coiling thing inside of him twists in feverish excitement.
How long has it been? How many impossibly long and lonely days did he spend in Gloucester, in Boston, New York, Tallahassee, Vegas, LA, searching for something, anything, that found its way into that place just beyond the corner of the eye, as he did?
He smiles, and he forgets to blink, gaze locked on the butterfly as he tries to take in the whole of it, what it is, isn't, and could be.
"I don't think I can scream anymore," he answers honestly, in a hushed, giddy voice. "I sing, and I get stuck in your head. I've always-- no, not always. It's been... A day? A year? Sometimes I think I'm still on that stage..."
He hums, imagines wood under his feet instead of grass. An empty stage, in an empty club, just about a year ago. That's where a monster had split him open. It's where he'd finally reached out and grasped that lifeline of delusion.
Jeff refused to let something as mundane and human as blood loss be the end of him, and so: here he is.
"Sometimes I think everything before was a dream. Maybe I've always been..." He pauses, tilts his head, regarding his companion with vague bemusement. "Been what?" he thinks-- or, at least, he thinks he thinks it, doesn't realize he's asking the butterfly for its input.
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"Everything was a dream. Nothing was a dream. Everything was nothing. Nothing was everything. It's new and it's been that way forever. Time bends back upon itself as soon as you depart the places where it's made to be linear. You're waking up and going to sleep. Are you a place yet? Do you have rooms? It's a terrifying thing, when you start to become the walls you inhabit. It's a wonderful thing, to swallow yourself whole."
The swirling motes unfurl endlessly around him the more the little figment speaks, impossibility caressing him like loving arms.
no subject
Finally, someone-- something-- gets it.
"Can a song become a place?" He forces himself to look away from the butterfly, entrancing as it is, and down to his own body. It is changing-- it's been changing, ever since he embraced the twisting deceit, though he can't always pinpoint the ways. He's not even sure what anyone even sees anymore, when they look at him.
His reflection never cooperates these days. He's pretty sure it's living a parallel life in reflective, distorted worlds, and it feels almost voyeuristic, looking in a mirror. Oh, and his scars like to travel from time to time. It's never anything big, really, not like they pack up and move to other limbs. That knife wound reaching for his throat never leaves his throat... but sometimes it likes to scoot a couple inches to the left. Or the right. Or change its path, ever so subtly. And when he bleeds, he's pretty sure it isn't blood anymore. (How can it be? He already lost all his blood back in Gloucester.) It's a little too red and way too sticky. Corn syrup and food coloring.
Or maybe that's just how he pictures it. How he keeps the lie that he's still alive going and going.
"I'm always... I've been looking for a way in," he admits to the butterfly. "Cracks to slip through, holes to dive headfirst in..." He smiles dreamily. "Mirrors become windows become doors..." Maybe he'd been going about it all wrong, searching in the external, rather than the internal.
"Is that what you are? A place? A butterfly and a cocoon?"
no subject
"Oh, how clever you are. Yes, I am all those things. I am a star and a world, far, far beyond these skies. I am a butterfly, a fanciful thing, living proof that it's possible to survive even the most drastic changes. I am the cocoon, I am a thing that keeps you warm when you give yourself over to change and let yourself be made by being unmade."
The scale-spores smell sweet, like wistful memories- a departed loved one's perfume, a vacant house that still carries hints of a family meal being cooked in its kitchen, the oxidizing metal and the aging wood of an old hand tool passed down from parent to child.
"You're looking for your body, you know. You know it's somewhere, you know you're an awful lot growing and moving underneath that skin, but you're not sure where it is or how to slip into it. It's an impatient thing, to know that someday you'll slip your skin and become your next self, but with no way of knowing when it'll be."
no subject
His body-- this body-- could be a fond memory, too. An empty house, a long-gone love, a treasured heirloom... Tempting. Terrifying. It makes Jeff shiver to think about, which is a weird sensation, like some remainder of the fragile thing he used to be.
(Used to be? The fragile thing still lives, nestled in one of the chambers of his vestigial heart.)
"I don't know if I want it now, or... or never," he admits. But, ah, here comes that youthful impatience, as he leans in close to the butterfly, so they can whisper secrets to each other. "What was it like? Did it hurt? Do you ever miss when your body was..." He thinks for a moment. Human isn't the word he's looking for. Solid? Defined? "...was one thing?"
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"I was frightened, when I first began to change. I didn't want to be me. I wanted to be someone else, something small, something simple, for the rest of my days. But when the time came to slough off my skin and melt myself down, I was giddy. I was ready. Every little piece of me needed that change. Every little piece of me needed to be a piece of me."
"I can't say I never miss it. Being a person is a remarkable thing. But would I have been happier, if I had stayed? I don't think so."
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"I wasn't happy," he admits, "when I was just a person." Whatever he is now, it's something between flesh and freedom. "I was always so scared. Living was... it was like a bad dream. Just this... totally ordinary nightmare."
He smiles warmly at the teacher, purple and glimmering with possibility and and the promise of impossibility.
"I wonder what I'll be when I'm not me."
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“Why don’t you find me where I live, wearing a skin shape, and we’ll have tea? Or you could dive deep, deep into the earth, and meet me where I’m formless and ever-shifting. Or we could meet somewhere in the middle. Find a flowering field, and bring a little dish of blood, and a little dish of strawberry jam, and I’ll gather as a flock.”
“Or we could stay where we are now, and just think delightfully mad thoughts. That works, too.”
no subject
Jeff remembers, back in Massachusetts, he'd had a friend who lived in the earth. A seamless, shifting composite of features and voices, his mother's eyes and his father's nose, the mouth of some old fling, and his bassist's fingers... They would talk and talk until his head was pounding and his throat was sore. It got to where Jeff would find earthen holes in the woods, in the sidewalk, in his bedroom, and sometimes his friend would be there. Sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it tried to beckon him into its world, but he was still too afraid to try and squeeze his way down the rabbit hole.
He wonders, now, if his friend was some extension of the butterfly. Some piece of something formless and ever-shifting, always calling to him. Or did Jeff convince himself that some imaginary friend was real, over and over again, until it became real? Is there a connection, or is this all random, pointless coincidence? Does the answer matter?
Is there an answer?
"Where can I find you? The you with skin, I mean." He reaches out with gentle fingers, to see how it might feel to stroke madness itself. "Until I can get my hands on some jam."
no subject
“You’ll know me when you meet me in the street, I think. You’re looking for me, and I think you know what you’re looking for more than most. The face I wear and the voice I use dwell in a house like most of the mortals around here do. Ask around about Sheogorath, and you’ll find me, if I want to be found. Oh, and I do want to be found, but sometimes I enjoy the chase.”
A giddy tingling is moving up from Jeff’s fingertip.
“Have you ever stopped to look at caterpillars, really? Ever stopped to think about what confusing little worms they are? With false feet and false eyes, and calling themselves worms when they aren’t?”
no subject
Who knows how long the chase will last? They have endless time, anyway, in this undying town. And in the meantime... Jeff moves to sit in the dirt, leaning his back against a tree, to get nice and cozy for this chat. He laughs, light, with an edge of giddiness, at the question about caterpillars.
"I used to. When I was little? I thought they were cute, like someone took a cartoon worm and put it out in the world. I never thought how weird it was, to see a worm with feet..." And then he got older, and he stopped paying attention to how cute and strange they were, and he started to only see them as bugs. Just another complex, fascinating thing, reduced to a category and a definition. "Do caterpillars dream of becoming butterflies? Is that what makes them build a cocoon? Like they want it so bad, they just make their impossible dream into something real..."
CW: mentions of violence, larva imagery (caterpillar)
“But… something hatched from the prison. Its prisoner was still inside it, but the prison could move, wiggling along through the cosmos, feeding on cosmic detritus, and sometimes, it would copy sounds it heard the gods make. They called it a worm, the Worm, for in the world they knew, that was the only thing that it could be.”
“And the Worm ate, and grew larger, and moved more. It realized it was excited to move. It realized that making sounds made it happy. The gods chastised it, for it only made trouble, being a worm, but the Worm had learned that it was, and it was having a splendid time doing so.”
“Then the Worm crawled into the world, and there it found mortals. They were not like the gods- they said and did and made little, unimportant things. They were so very small, and so very brief, and so full of ideas. The Worm burrowed in their minds and found itself there. It made friends with them, and was feared by them, and sometimes, it ripped out their bones. It sang for them, which surprised them, because they had never heard singing. It made flutes and drums and lyres from their bodies, and taught their kin how to play. It grew and grew and grew.”
“One day, the Worm saw another worm, crawling along its arm, and it watched in fascination as the creature spun a bead of silk to hold itself in place, and then, spinning and spinning, it carefully removed its own skin. Then, though it did not like being still, the Worm waited, as the moons that were the bones it was not made of passed overhead many times. It waited, and watched, and one day, something that was not a worm emerged from the shell. The Worm watched the butterfly bask in a sunbeam to dry its wings, before the Worm, too, knew something was changing.”
“It felt excitement. It felt fear. It was the end of the world. It was the world being born. It was uncertainty. It was change. It was something new. The Worm danced atop a wheel, spinning and spinning until they skin it had borrowed from its prisoner became a shell. Then, it became nothing, and it became the potential for anything.”
“An age passed. The wheel turned. Something broke, and something was made. And colors the universe had never drempt spilled out across Oblivion.”