MOD PLOT | the pain of changing,

[exsangui]

𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖎

You awake.

That in itself is notable.

Perhaps you remember your dream in vivid detail- perhaps not. What matters is, you're here now. under the earth. You can feel the chill of wind, hear the cries of bats. Anyone wounded will be tended to by two clerics in dour robes of black and white. They say they are servants of the Riven God, and they are here to help you, Their chosen.

You may speak to them at any point, and they will answer questions to the best of their ability.

Likewise, they will have many objects blessed by the Riven God, to help Coffin Sleepers. Censers, coffins, gallows gristle, dirt from the graves of murderers, and the blood of something called a 'widowmaker' are the most common objects, but ask if you want something else. There is only one pre-used noose, first come first serve.

As they lead you through, the scent of salt becomes very strong, and you often hear the sound of rushing water. The clerics are very careful to keep everyone from some of the cave network, which they say is flooded.

Slowly, the scent of fresh air goes stronger. The caves begin to look carved, specifically like some sort of altars with lit votive candles, meticulously maintained. Vasili and Rohese may take time to clean these altars, re-light candles, before pressing forward.

Finally, the shadows break.



You are at the bottom of a well. Vasili cautions you: "You can go up, but... it leads right to the churchyard of Kismet."

Rohese chimes in: "It is holy ground."

And it is, of course, daylight.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖘𝖎𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖉

They explain further: It is the Feast Day of Sigsimund. On that day (or on the night after), all vampires must feed from a living human. Blood taken from a corpse, or not immediately sucked from the vein, will be poisonous to the vampire. And they must feed, or they will die.

(Vampires who do not feed will be met by confusion by the clerics-- they thought you had to...)

Above the well, around the church of Kismet, is the town of Ainsmere. The people of Ainsmere know what day it is. They have put holy water in their homes, spread carved holy symbols on their doors, put blessed objects by their windows, set traps in their homes, and sleep with knives under their beds.

How will you feed? You are so thirsty, in some cases it may consume all your thoughts.



The Clerics of the Riven God will do what they can, but regretfully they cannot kidnap people for you to feed. This is, they say, a test of your commitment to your new blessings under the Riven God. They wish to see you use your glorious purpose.

But some of you will not be able to make it to the village. Can you wait in hopes your fellow vampires will bring you back a victim? The clerics will try to help, giving some blood, but it will not do much more than quiet thirst for a precious few minutes.

For those of you who do not trust others to bring food back to you down the well, you can attempt to traverse the sewers, but it is disgusting and brackish. Worse, holy water has gotten into the sludge, and it's too diluted to be prohibitive, it's still incredibly painful to trek through, for those sensitive to such things. Yet if you take this path, you may find strange bangles made entirely of carved jade.

Just clean 'em off first.

A vampire does not necessarily have to feed, on Sigsimund's say, but hunger will become more and more painful, until they become immobilized with it.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖍 & 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖜𝖓

The Church of Kismet is abandoned during the night. Inside is a beautiful place, that would be elegant and bright during the day, where reflective mirrors bring the sun to full bloom. There is also an expansive library ripe for the plucking. (Like, super ripe.)

Ainsmere itself turns out to be coastal-- explaining the scent of seawater in the caves, and how many passages were blocked off.



It is a town with much industry and little room-- thus many houses are stacked atop each other. Packed in close, moving with stealth is a must-- however, villagers are highly superstitious of the well on the grounds of Kismet Church. If you are chased and make it back first, you may be safe. However, getting caught and seen entering the well too many times will put the town on high alert; they may even begin throwing things down the well.

As for the clerics, they pray, and try to make the well hospitable.

𝕯𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗

For good or ill, when Sigsimund's Feast Day is over, you must leave. The clerics lead you to another path in the cave, where you can find boats and an underground river.



The clerics ask you to be very quiet as they make their way through this path. The water is deadly still, and if you are rowing, you are cautioned to do so very slowly, to break the surface of the water as little as possible.

Of course, if you don't, something may rise to the surface. The clerics will go silent if this happens. The creatures in the water may act harmless or simply curious, simply looking like mermaids, but interacting with them in any way will cause a change in demeanor. They will use everything in their power to drag people into the water and drown them.

The clerics will not help. They will only watch, horrified. It's up to you to fight these creatures off, or save a fallen friend.

𝕬 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖞 𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊

Finally, the river will break into land, and after a few steps, you'll find your new lodgings.



The clerics say it is a place holy to the Riven God, and vampires have nothing to fear. The inside is overgrown, but sleep will come easily to a vampire that has fed.

Dreams will be restful, but drumbeats will form the background to any sound. So will a deep voice, welcoming you over and over. You are chosen. You are mine.

Later, you can explore the church grounds. You'll find the place, as mentioned, totally overgrown and largely nonfunctional, but rather big!

There is also an overgrown garden, various votive candles the clerics are busy re-lighting, and a store of food in the larder. (It's largely blood sausage, salt pork, and other cured meats, along with various red wines on the young side.) There are also deer and boar in the forest to hunt, and while you don't need blood when it's not a feast day the hunger is still there and it tastes delicious.

While the rooves are in various states of disrepair, everyone should be able to mostly get around without having to worry too much about direct sunlight. They may have to be creative with coats and glasses, if necessary. (Where did they get coats and glasses? Clearly they stole them from Ainsmere.)

Throughout, this symbol is carved and painted, over and over.

NAVIGATION.

Comments

QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS.

[exsangui]

[designerdevil]

Heyo, just want to double check a couple of things:

1) While in the caves, will people with Dirt Nap still need to also burrow into a shallow grave to sleep or is being underground enough? Or, if the traveling through the caves is mostly during daytime, do I get to have the pleasure of Lucifer being weary and whiny until someone drags or carries him until nightfall?
2) At the Riven God's church, is the garden area the best place for Dirt Nappers to sleep or is there anywhere else on the church grounds that would also be suitable?

[exsangui]

Dirt Nap requires dirt, not just being underground, so ya gotta get some dirt on ya. Either in the caves or the Riven God's church, either's good.

The cave journey lasts half a day, and a few minutes into the following night until the well is found. It's up to you if you want Lucy to be a diva about it ;9

[icasm]

Do vampires with Daywalker have to get permission to enter the church?

EXTRAS.

[exsangui]

BLOOD MEMORIES.

[exsangui]

If your character has the Blood Memories ability, let me know the people your character drank from, and any relevant details (wife of a miner, random dude in the street) and I'll make the rest up + give you a memory.

WHO GETS THE USED NOOSE.

[exsangui]

FIRST COME FIRST SERVE!!!!

ROUNDUP.

[exsangui]

You don't have to tag everything out, but giving me this info will help me figure out various things in the next log. Feel free to edit your comment as much as possible.

• Drink count
• Kill count
• How many times, if any, they were caught feeding / fleeing down the well
• Did they keep a jade bangle
• Did they feed on Rohese or Vasili (and which one they fed on)
• What they took, if anything, from the hoard of items blessed by the Riven God
• Did they pray at any point, and to what deity

TALK TO THE CLERICS.

[exsangui]

Der Tod

[derletztetanz]

((Prompts in comments - hmu if you want something special!))

Awakening - Memento Mori

[derletztetanz]

Even before waking, they know something is wrong. Dreaming means sleeping, and sleeping is something that they have never done. The dreams are still fresh in their mind as their eyes slit open, lips parting in a little gasp as they come around to the feelings of weakness, of hunger, of damp on their skin and earth under their back. They sit bolt upright and regret it immediately, the ensuing dizziness pushing them back down again.

They are whole to the eye, of course. No injury, nothing appearing amiss, even though everything, everything is. Dutifully, quietly, they listen to the explanations, confirmation that the dreams meant something sinking claws in and gripping their heart. They have no questions, even as they sit up, lean against a wall, are told they must feed or they will die.

They will die.

The concept of mortality they are no stranger to, of course. Far from it.

The realization that it now applies to them, on the other hand, sits heavier in their throat than any hunger.

For now, they sit up, motionless in the cave, reeling, bright blue eyes staring straight forward into the darkness. The noose that they have taken to sleep with is twisted around in their fingers, winding about their palms and creaking under a white-knuckled grip, the sound very like the body of a murderer twisting, twisting, twisting in the wind….

The Sewers - Schmerzen (Closed to Lucifer)

[derletztetanz]

It takes most of the day before the Reaper decides that they must act. Despite the thirst gnawing at their insides, they sit against the side of the cave, dimly lit by one of the votives as they stare down the sewer tunnel. Disgusting. They have gone from ruling a domain, being an eventuality, to starving themselves as they contemplate wading through wastewater.

Still, they aren’t content to do nothing forever. They are parched, a sensation still alien to them, and it is growing unbearable, a thrumming undercurrent cutting deeper than any ennui. Cursing under their breath, they suddenly remove their shoes and socks, then their pants, stripping to smallclothes and tying everything into a bundle wrapped in their coat that they might tie about their neck. Dignity be damned, it is true, but they have no desire to ruin what few possessions they have to their name.

Cringing at the muck, Der Tod draws in a deep breath, then takes a decisive step down into the sewer.

And then immediately SCREAMS, recoiling up on to safe ground and desperately trying to wipe and scrape the offending waters from their skin.

“Scheißdreck-!”

They have never felt pain before. And this is a lot of it.

Hunting (for Dinner AND Knowledge) in Town

[derletztetanz]

Abendessen - Dinner

Ainsmere is dark, and it is on high alert.

Having redressed after the escapades in the sewers, it’s with purpose that Der Tod stalks through the streets, hands balled into fists as they struggle to contain themselves, appear amiable despite being a stranger here.

They cannot wait any longer. They are starving, and they duck into an alleyway in a residential area, clutching their gut and softly moaning. Killing isn’t a problem, no...but there are repellant charms everywhere, and they aren’t certain they will be able to simply drag someone in from the street without raising too much attention.

Silent save for a soft snarling they can scarcely control, they watch from the shadows with wide eyes, hoping to find a potential partner for this first hunt.

Wissen - Knowledge

If you are regarding the church, the library - they might try to get your attention, standing some feet from the doorway and peering in the windows with an inquisitive look. They keep their voice down, but their tone is honeyed, their expression as beseeching as it is charming.

“...May I ask you for a favor?”

Lodgings - Heimat

[derletztetanz]

Well, it could be worse, they suppose, if they must live anywhere. There is a melancholy to this place, but it’s no worse than the lonely castles and estates of dying nobility anyhow, is it? And they had, in their time, certainly spent more than their fair share of hours waiting in churches.

Once they have taken their time to explore, they climb ably up into the rafters of the abandoned church, kicking one leg off the beam as they stare out a crumbling hole in the ceiling to regard the night sky. Sitting beside them are the books they were able to acquire from the town, skimmed but unread as of yet.

Their mind is too occupied to read.

For now, they are simply content to sit, gaze unfocused as they just...feel. The cold air on their face, tousling their blonde hair. The low thrum of hunger, sated but still there. The aches and pains that come with having nerve endings.

All new.

If you stare up at them for any period of time, they feel your eyes upon them, more used to going unseen - and they look down with a smile that COULD be friendly, lifting one eyebrow before they speak to you. Their purr is lightly accented, as smooth and soft as the blankets on one’s deathbed.

“Come up, if you like. It’s peaceful, up here.”

ellie | tlou.

[goty]

a. TO THE PAIN.

Ellie wakes screaming.

Blood squirts from the missing finger on her hand, the other finger half-bitten off. Deep gulping breaths keep the noise down as she curls herself into a ball, against the nearest wall, sitting and struggling. One hand grasps the finger that is even now falling off.

She prepares herself to twist it off entirely.

b. TO TRUDGE.

She isn't waiting for anyone to carry her.

Recently, she's realized she wants to live. Long and stupid and painful, the journey of that discovery. She wants to live for herself. It feels pointless and selfish. Her life has no meaning. She's just taking up space.

But she doesn't want to die.

So she'll drink blood. Fuck it, she's done worse. She trudges through the sewers, seething with pain, her thin body shaking with the effort of control.

c. TO THE CITY.

The city is ripe for the picking, and the survivor's part of Ellie's mind-- most of her mind-- sees all the ways she could steal, scavenge, borrow. The rest of her is unnerved by how populated the place is. Is this how the world was before the outbreak?

Ellie stays to the shadows, waiting, watching, trying to screw her courage up. There's just so many.

d. TO THE WATER.

In the darkness, a wild beauty looks up at Ellie under a mirror of still water. She moves with longing, her entire being some constellation of welcome. Ellie waves with too few fingers. The woman waves back with too many.

"This is such a fucking trap," she says, but it's with evident sadness. She'd like very much to surrender herself to the uncomplicated depths.

e. WILDCARD

[hit me, im good for it.]

the city - hope this works!

[derletztetanz]

Hm.

From a distance, from an alley opposite, the Reaper watches her - curiosity plain in their bright blue eyes. Familiar. She is familiar, isn't she? It takes a minute or two more of staring before the realization clicks fully into place, coaxing a tiny sound of surprise from barely parted lips.

The dream. The dance. Of course.

Waiting for a moment of relative safety, Der Tod steps out into the moonlight...just enough to try to catch her eye, just enough to grin that angular grin and gracefully beckon.

B

[rhenalfailure]

They all suffer presently.

In this case, however, the thirst that wears on his own senses is far from identical to the way she shudders in apparent agony. Apparent, because every beast knows instinctively how to hide its own wounds when it needs to press on. Vampire, animal, human—

Whatever they are now.

He remembers her face. He doesn’t know if she’ll remember him, but his rolling accent calls out to her all the same as he wades nearer through frigid water.

“You are hurting,” Dettlaff exhales, stare sunk low to meet her.

“There is no reason to do this alone.”

A

[nearlyunmade]

"Whoa whoa whoa, hang on." The woman who's crouching next to her seems to be in her mid-twenties, plainly dressed in a dark shirt, vest and trousers. "Let me see it, I'm a doctor." Granted, a doctor without any of her fucking tools, presently, but her voice is steady and even, and she doesn't so much expect Ellie to stop screaming as to have a second point of focus. "Twisting it could damage the rest of your hand, we need to find something sharp. And I heard one of those priest say he had some wine, maybe someone has something stronger."

d. to the water;

[icasm]

"Do you plan on letting yourself go to see?" Loki asks quietly, carefully. This has been strange, the entire thing, this trip, waking up here. He feels subdued by powers beyond his control. It's never a great feeling.

Add people he half-recognizes from dreams and it all just feels this side of real. Like he might stumble through a door and find himself back in the TVA, with the people who should know him but don't, far from where he wants to be.

He hasn't waved at any of the mermaids. He's just watched them so far.

Dettlaff van der Eretein | OTA

[rhenalfailure]

I: SACRIFICE

The human Dettlaff holds clutched by the throat to his chest is scrawny. A straggler. A runt. Underfed and unhoused, if the tattered, patchwork clothing they wear is indicative of anything. The sort of person easily overlooked by the village above, the least likely to be sought out— least likely to be missed, in the hours between sunset and sunrise.

His face is impassive, the hollows beneath his eyes dark. He fits the edge of his own dagger to their arm, not yet breaking skin. It elicits a cry not unlike a mewling fawn.

Time is short.

“You must feed.”

Or death is certain, as the clerics claimed. And dawn is so close.

II: SOLACE

It is a cool spot that Dettlaff retreats to in the inhospitably dampened hollows running far beneath the city. A mired corner in which to sink down, fingertips pressed to his forehead on either side, covering the span of his view. False breath shaky when it leaves his lungs, slithering between sharp teeth. His eyes are closed. His skull aches.

Dawn is near enough by now that all he can think of is consumptive in its cast. Bloody. Relentless. Well past the point of self-control, he no longer trusts himself to act with any amount of restraint.

And like a wounded animal, that drives him to solitude. To lick his own wounds in peace. To be alone until day breaks, with whatever end it brings.

III: WILDCARD
[ooc: feel free to make something up, alter prompts however you want, etc, or just hit me up if you'd like something else more specific! character info is here, for any needed references or contact info.]

ii. solace (but also a wildcard)

[icasm]

At some point, Loki passes by the little corner Dettlaff has himself isolated into. He pauses, peering at him in the half-light, before continuing on without saying a word.

Roughly two hours later, Loki returns, his voice carrying through the hollows long before he physically appears. He's talking to someone, a young woman, whose voice is quieter and slurred; she laughs at his story, asks a question, which he answers (or says something in response, at the very least), and then the woman giggles again.

When Loki does come into view, the woman is draped across his back, clearly inebrated, her cheek pressed against his shoulder and snoring softly.

He stops in front of Dettlaff and bends down, reaching out to tap the man on the shoulder. "Dinner delivery."

i.

[adnoto]

All her augmentics offline, surrounded by heretics, transformed and tormented by a sorcery that can only have come from the Ruinous Powers themselves, and no idea how any of it happened—rather than go screamingly insane immediately, Amberley has stuffed herself in a crevice to think about it, curled up and facing away from the even the feeble light of the votives while doing her considerable best to ignore the craving gnawing away at her. She hasn't felt this vulnerable in longer than most people have been alive, so the expression of forlorn confusion on her face as she looks up at Dettlaff and his whimpering prey is requiring less acting on her part than usual.

"I—" she cuts herself off, eyes widening in surprise as she realizes she's not simply hearing the poor wretch's pulse. She can even make out the different sounds as valves in the heart open and close. The thought of flowing blood, its nearness, the promise of an unspeakable oasis in this desolate horror sends her thirst from awful to unbearable, and she shoots to her feet, putting a few paces between herself and temptation. She leans into the wall of the cavern, stone cool on her forehead and against her fingertips. "Must I? Assuming those...'priests' are telling the truth, why not just let myself die with a clear conscience?"

Amberley Vail hasn't had one of those in longer than most people have been alive, either, but neither this dour stranger nor his captive need to know that.

loki | ota | will match format

[icasm]

→ a. the well

Loki peers up through the well, towards the daylight. The idea of holy ground doesn't bother him; neither does the concept of daylight, as far as he can tell.

And how would he know, if it were to become a problem? Vampyrs are supposed to only be able to move at night, if invited, away from holy ground and icons and yet here he is.

He hesitates, taking a breath. It would be... upsetting, to say the least, if he strolled out into the daylight just to burst into flames.

Loki looks around at the assembled.

"Anyone else going up?"

→ b. good hunting

The words 'glorius purpose' make his shoulders itch, honestly. He kind of hates it and it takes a lot of willpower not to sneer outright when the clerics to the Riven God use it within his earshot.

'Glorious purpose' is just a set of words that means 'doing terrible things and hoping for a wonderful outcome' which sounds a lot like the basic definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result.

But he's thirsty. Very thirsty. It's becoming a problem, actually, because he can't think beyond it for the most part.

People are coming out of the church. Loki weighs the difference between going inside and exploring versus finding a way of slaking his overwhelming thirst for blood at this moment and begins following a young couple. Not too closely.

But close enough.

→ c. the church library at night

Loki has found several books in his search of the church grounds at night, and is thumbing through one of them when he hears someone on the stairs.

「Who's there?」

Depending on the answer, and if it's aloud or not, will dictate what he does next.

→ d. (un)holy ground

Loki finds the sacristy and settles in there, back to a far corner of the wall, and doesn't sleep.

He reads the books he's taken from the library of the Church of Kismet instead, and once he's finished them, reads them again. He yawns, a few times, and rubs at his eyes before he sets the books aside next to him and sighs from his space on the floor.

He may have fed, but the idea of sleep seems very far from now.

→ e. wildcard

[ Loki's information & permissions are here. Feel free to make up a scenario in which to interact with Loki! ]

D - keep dream memories or nah?

[derletztetanz]

"...Have you learned anything interesting?"

The purr is soft and accented in the stillness, announcing the presence of another sleepless neophyte - holding a book of their own under one arm, poised, but...from the look on their face, not much less worse for wear than Loki is. They had been reading for a time, then had taken to wandering - it's hard to get used to the idea of needing to sleep when one has never had to do it before, after all.

With graceful steps, they approach at length, stopping a few feet away in a show of respect for Loki's space.

"It's much to sift through, I'm finding. A lot of uncertainty and human gesticulation."

b, aka "where did October go?" (If you'd like any adjustments, lmk)

[nearlyunmade]

Stella had come above ground mainly for medical supplies, or so she'd told herself. She'd mainly been assuming that most of this, including her thirst, was some sort of hallucination or conditioning; she'd assumed she was in the hands of the enemies she'd known and that they were staging some sort of drama to try to get her to break. It was possible that the girl who needed help wasn't real either, but Stella wasn't going to assume that. Bandages, a needle, some thread; they didn't seem to be so much to ask for.

But when she sees the sailor, weaving with drink and all alone, she doesn't make a decision. She acts on instinct, faster and stronger than she should be and with a mouth full of teeth that make a ghastly mess of his throat in a way that shouldn't be possible. The taste of his blood, and the memories it triggers, are enough to convince her this may be some sort of real. And that she's sincerely fucked.

She leaves the mess of a corpse and wanders, hiding herself in alleys like an animal with a wounded paw nursing it in the shadows. Eventually, she catches sight of the man stalking the young couple and it's enough to draw her focus. The couple won't see her in the dark; he might, if his senses are sharp enough, but he's also presumably distracted.

Stella doesn't try to interfere, but she wants to understand. So she carefully starts to follow him following them, keeping far enough back not to be obvious. She's shadowed someone before, though she'd prefer more of a crowd. Needs must.