DECEMBER MINGLE

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: December 21st - Early January
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: Newcomers, a surprise gift from Tatianna, and a visitor!
NOTES\WARNINGS:

⏵ arrival ⏴ Welcome to Etraya! Arrival goes as expected - characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital. The lobby is filled to the brim with tables of freshly baked goods. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banners are taped to the walls, and several other typical birthday decorations can be found in this area. A few of the baked goods tables are lined with massive cakes covered in unlit candles, just waiting for someone to grab a lighter and sing off-key. Is it anyone's birthday? Who knows! The companion bots seem to believe it's every new arrival's birthday and will greet them as such - with friendly waves and cheers as they make their way to the lobby. A coat rack is situated by the doors leading out of the hospital, covered in warm clothing that fits the new arrivals just right - whether it's to their preferred style or not is something else entirely. Some of them appear normal enough. Others? Well. They can't all be perfect, now can they? Outside the windows, the grass is covered in a couple of inches of loosely packed snow. We hope you enjoy your stay. ⏵ an unexpected gift ⏴ Out by the hospital stands a tall, decorated tree covered in candles and golden pinecones with a handsome, red velveteen tree skirt. In front of it are a few oversized wrapped gifts for show- and atop one of those sits a familiar woman. Or unfamiliar, if this is your first time. It's Tatianna in a slutty Santa outfit with a big ol’ burlap sack. “Hey, I got something for you,” she says, digging into the bag and rummaging for a moment. She produces a painted egg and holds it aloft. “It’s your Winter Solstice Egg! This is the egg holiday, right? Wait, shit. I’m mixing them up, aren’t I? ...Well. It’s a little late to change it. Here you go!” How one treats their egg is fully up to themselves. They can choose to ignore it entirely, or destroy it and leave the yolk and innards to rot on the ground. They can hand it over to someone else or care for it as if it were something precious. No one will prevent them from doing whatever they please with it! ⏵ naughty or nice ⏴However, how they treat the egg will define how the egg treats them in return. Those who keep the egg and tend to it will get the benefit of being able to watch it hatch seven days after they are handed the egg. Eggs that are treated with attention and love may yield a loyal companion, or a weapon of choice that always returns to its owner, while neglected eggs may yield a curious, cursed trinket or an animal who treats its new owner very much the same way its owner had treated it before it was born. Please submit an egg request below for what items you would like your character's eggs to hatch into! Please note that these cannot be things that would be applicable in the game. Those whose eggs are destroyed or forgotten will simply get the gift of... nothing! ⏵ free your spirit ⏴ With the winter chill gripping the air, a mysterious figure makes their presence known in Etraya - a towering, horned creature dragging a massive sack behind them. 𝓐 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝓴 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓. Regardless of a character's strengths or weaknesses, they will find that when Krampus raises his massive sack over their head, they are powerless to stop him from catching them. Those capable of great magical feats or other supernatural abilities will sense something... otherworldly about Krampus, but will not be able to place the source of that sensation. Once within Krampus' sack, they are welcome to fight, but escape is impossible. It will feel as if Krampus is dragging them over every rock possible, dragging the sack in through the rivers to the point it soaks through and drenches them - potentially almost drowning them. When the sack opens, they will find themselves in an impossibly dark space. Around them are others who have also been captured and dragged here by Krampus, trapped in small cages hanging from a massive, wiry tree. Krampus will return often, banging clawed hands and birch rods on the walls of the cages and knocking them into one another. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘. The whisper resonates through the darkened area, regardless of Krampus' presence. Confess your secrets, and be freed. Otherwise? You'd better hope someone figures out where Krampus has set up base; those who refuse to confess may find themselves stuck here forever. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Krampus' base is under Etraya! Deep within the catacombs, he has set up multiple cages to capture those who inhabit Etraya to punish them for their naughty habits. Fighting him is possible! Defeating him by means of combat is not, however, possible. Think of it like fighting a god: Krampus creates the rules in the space around him, including who can use what ability. For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[cactusy]

Go, team.

[She intones, studying him as she bends to wring water from her pant legs.]

Why'd you tell me, if people don't usually say anything?

[fortitudosalutis]

I don't talk to many people.

[ He tilts his head back toward her. ]

And you're not one of my sisters. They already know.

[cactusy]

Is it lonely here?

[She doesn't ask if he misses them - that much is obvious. But to go from a close-knit group to not talking to many people... it's a big jump.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Lonely. He mulls over that word as they walk, wondering if it fits. ]

Maybe, [ he says after a while. ] But people are liars.

[ She is too, he knows. But that's okay. You can learn how to survive that. ]

[cactusy]

Yeah, I picked up on the trust issues.

[Great job, Shaw. Not rude at all.]

So - it's lonely, but better to be lonely than screwed over?

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He snorts at that. ]

My sister trusted someone. And he betrayed her.

[ That was a good lesson. God demanded it. He wants desperately to make up for it. ]

I should've killed him, but I didn't. That's my sin.

[cactusy]

It doesn't actually make anything better, but it's satisfying. I'd recommend it. Done it twice now, would have done it more if I could have.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ It would have made things better, Carver almost says, almost insists. That betrayal had consequences, least of all big sister's heart. She would've hated him for it, but she would've forgiven him eventually. ]

She asked me not to.

[ He exhales sharply. ]

Should've hung him from a goddamn tree.

[cactusy]

Mm. Someone she knew?

[She thinks of Cole; thinks of what he would have wanted if he'd survived Wilson's betrayal. If he'd been the one to survive while she had died, he would have handled the situation very differently.]

[fortitudosalutis]

Her man, once.

[ And oh, he says it bitterly. There's a part of Carver that begrudges her having that just as he understands why she needed it, once. Why she couldn't survive being utterly alone any more than he could have, after what happened to Matthew. But Dixon hurt her, time and time again, and it cannot stand. It had to be answered.

She was kind, and it cost her. ]

But he was a liar, and he betrayed us.

[cactusy]

When I was with the ISA, my partner started looking into stuff he wasn't supposed to, and our handler dealt with it by putting out a kill order.

[Her tone is matter-of-fact, and her stride doesn't break.]

If Cole had lived, he would have wanted to see Wilson brought to justice. But I knew that wasn't going to happen, so I killed him.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Even in the old world, that wouldn't have surprised him. Armies protect themselves first and best, no matter what colors they wear. They betray their own to protect the whole and call it just. They never think of it again.

Carver exhales. He keeps pace. There's nowhere to go but forward. ]

What you did was justice.

[cactusy]

Mm, yeah, but he would have wanted nonviolent justice. Courtrooms, juries, that kinda thing.

Still, though. No regrets.

[fortitudosalutis]

No regrets, [ Carver echoes softly. He's never really believed in justice. Only vengeance, the kind taken with your hands. That's the only kind that's ever really made a difference. ] Guess it doesn't matter here.

[cactusy]

[Shaw makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat, shaking her head.]

It does and it doesn't, right? It's in the past, so it can't be changed; worrying about it doesn't matter. But I'm not about to forget that it happened.

[Even if she so rarely talks about it.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He hums a little at that. ]

No. It's not good to forget. But you learn to make room for things.

[cactusy]

[It's a decent enough description of her grief style that it pulls a quiet sigh out of her. Yes. That. Exactly.]

You say "life goes on", and people think you're being flippant. But it does, yeah? What the hell else would it do.

[fortitudosalutis]

Gotta keep moving or you're dead, too, [ he agrees, a little softer. His dead follow behind him in a long, melancholy line. He's forgotten the faces of most of those he's murdered, for good or ill, but not his brothers and sisters. Sometimes, he writes their names down on walls just to make sure he still has them, each and every one.

He ought to make an altar here, Carver recognizes. He ought to light candles for their souls.

Absently, he touches the pendant he wears. Rubbing his thumb along the circlet. ]

Ain't no use in that when there's work to be done.

[cactusy]

[Small absent gesture or no, the meaning behind it is easy to spot, especially when paired with that tone. Shaw shoots him a quick raised eyebrow.]

I used to get tattoos. Easier to tote around than a necklace.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Carver snorts and lets go of the pendant, remembering himself. ]

I’d run out of skin if I had ink for all my dead.

[cactusy]

Mine were for jobs. For the first couple, anyway; it was a simple choice when I was a med student. Less simple when I went into the military and started doing undercover work where identifying marks were dangerous.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He tilts his head. ]

Why'd you wanna remember jobs?

[cactusy]

Because I've had more of them than I've had friends.

[The phrasing is purposefully flippant, but there's a note of truth to it all the same. She pauses, and then amends:]

The important people in my life have all been family, or coworkers. If there's a person I want to commemorate, odds are we had a job in common.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He watches her for a moment, then nods. He understands that much, in the end. ]

First and only ink I got was for my unit, right after my first tour in the Valley of Death.

[ That had to be marked. It was the beginning of things. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw works up the sleeve of her jacket, which reveals both her tattoos. The larger one - a Rod of Asclepius - goes uncommented on; instead, she taps the letters USMC that arch over it.]

My dad had this tattoo. When I went into the Corps - I figured, why not.