undyingcourt | january tdm/event post

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january tdm/event post

JANUARY TDM - WINTER DREAMS

Welcome to the Undying Court's January Test Drive Meme! This post also functions as the January Event for existing characters, and continues the Winter Season, led by the Blue Court.

New characters may handwave or backdate the previous season's arrival prompt should they wish to, but you may otherwise assume they've been here the whole time! Additionally, all TDM threads can be taken as in-game canon if desired. And remember that apps open February 3-7, with invites opening on January 28, and reserves not long after!

Note that this post will contain: violence, enthrallment, torture, slavery, horror and potentially sexual content. Dreams come in many forms, after all.

This event also features another chance for characters to submit Regains, so make sure to submit after you've posted your top-level or reply to someone else's dream. For characters both new and old, feel free to brush up on the Premise, Vampire Powers, and head over to the FAQ/Game Info page if you have any questions!

Note that this event will be occurring throughout the month of January and into February, so characters are free to forward-date as desired!
For new characters please format your Top-level in this format: Character Name | Canon | Court | Youngblood/Novice | TDM
For existing characters please format your Top-level in this format: Character Name | Court | Youngblood/Novice
If you have any questions specific to the event, ask them in the Plotting Post Q&A section!

Top-Level Directory:

ONCE UPON A DREAM

A quiet falls over the Castle as a new day begins to break. As with every morning, this is a time when vampires must retreat to avoid the rays of the sun, pulling heavy curtains around their beds and windows to block out any light. However, this particular morning is abnormally quiet as the whole of the Castle seems to fall asleep all at once, and all together. After this enchanted sleep, and for the the next thirty days, the Castle's residents will start to experience strange phenomena within their dreams.

During this period, dreams become more vivid, so realistic it feels like the dreamer is awake. Dreamers can pass into each other's dreams without meaning to. Some of these dreams are in fact memories--either those from the lives the characters have lived in the Castle and the outlying lands, or the strange memories they've begun to gain back.

But be careful! For what starts as a regular memory might start to warp into something new. If you're lucky, it'll be something positive, like a dream of a home you've always wanted. But if you're unlucky, the memory might twist and turn into a nightmare, catching you in it and turning your worst fears against you.

Each nightfall, everyone will wake and return to normal. Or at least, most people will.

[Note: Any current characters who participate in the dream event by creating a top level or tagging someone else at least once in this prompt may be rewarded with a free impactful memory, which may be used in the dreamscape. Don't forget to submit for your Regains!]

A NIGHTMARISH CURSE

It turns out that not everyone wakes up. Those who stay in nightmares for too long may find themselves cursed, and unable to wake up. At first, the curse appears no different from regular sleep. But a few hours in the victim will start screaming uncontrollably. No touch will wake them, no amount of calling their name will break the spell. After too long, the victim will start to bleed, slowly at first, and then more and more as they remain afflicted. A victim left unattended will bleed out and die.

The Council works quickly to step in. Kashire (who is looking rather frayed this season) delivers the news that there's no need to panic, but everyone will need to do their part in locating and curing victims. In fact, the youngbloods seem to be taking this as the perfect opportunity for a teaching moment, and students are expected to try and find a cure with the skills that match their Court. Novices and youngbloods alike are encouraged to try and help lift the curse from anyone they can. (Get creative! Blood heals many wounds...) Any victims that have progressed too far will need to be seen to by Revar.

The nightmare curse, however, can spread quickly. Anyone who enters the nightmare of a victim will fall victim to the curse. Additionally, any attempt to reach out to the mind of a curse victim will also spread the curse. With the combined efforts of the students and teachers, the curse can be completely put out. But it will take time and care to ensure everyone is found in time, and cured safely.

ANYWAY, WINTER GAMES!

But a few curses aren't going to stop the Blue Court from making sure everyone has a good time. The days might be short, and weighed down by the threats of nightmares, but winter has hit Castle Courtsheart in full force, and the long nights and snow-covered grounds make for an excellent backdrop to the Inter-Court Winter Games!

There isn't really a reward for the winning house besides bragging rights and maybe a trophy that doubles as a chalice, but youngbloods and novices alike are invited to join in the festivities and compete against one another in the spirit of glory and the chance to lord over your Court's superiority. Even Council members and mature vampires of each court seem to enjoy cheering on their respective teams from the stands. Everything is fine! Forget your troubles and go play in the snow.

What kind of sports do vampires play? Feel free to get creative, but here are some examples:

Thrall-Curling: Since vampiric strength proves to be a little too much for this sport otherwise, teams of novices (or youngbloods) of the same Court can team up to gently compel their thralls to play the thrilling sport of curling. Coax that stone across the ice with care, and take out the opposing team! Or, well, the thralls will do that, assuming they're guided well. Try not to break them. (The thralls, that is.)

Figure skating: Practicing your pirouettes? For a vampire, a quadruple-axel is hardly worth breaking a sweat over. Favored for its beauty and almost seductive grace, the figure skating competition will be scored and judged by a multi-court panel. Participants might get extra points for incorporating bladework and masking into their sets, so these performances are sure to wow the judges.

Ice Hockey: Yes, the high-contact sport transcends time and space, but vampires don't need silly things like helmets or padded safety gear. Don your court's colors and hit the ice to toss the puck around and score as many points against the opposing team as you can before the time runs out. Violence is encouraged! Everyone likes to see a bit of blood on the ice this time of year. (Shadowstepping is considered cheating, but only if you get caught.)

And more! Snowball fighting may not be a sport, but there's no better time to enjoy the outdoors and stretch those growing fangs and muscles than the dead of winter. So whether you're cheering on your Court or watching from the sidelines, there's something here for everyone. Just because the castle is full of the the undead doesn't mean they can't have a little winter fun.

CLASS NOTES

Other notable happenings for the early winter season include:

Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and maybe it's time to find or make gifts for that special blood claim in your life. This season blood jewelry is the hot ticket item. These are pieces made from precious metal and glass, which hold the blood of a vampire in them. Carry a lover's blood to show how much you love them, or carry your own to force down the throat of your enemies so you can influence them.

Whispers around school start to say that Black Court lost a novice this month. Not murder this time! He simply unmade himself trying to mistwalk. Eh, these things happen.

As a result of a tie in last month's pumpkin carving contest, members of the Black and Red Courts will find small packages outside their doors. They are gifted silver letter openers, with the handle inlaid with pumpkins and leaves, and a note from Revar with a little drawing of a pumpkin and their signature. How nice!

Lady Whisperfangs is quiet for now, but her time is yet to come... This month's check-in will have a field to submit gossip about your characters! Vampires do so love their drama.

Once again, characters are free to talk to the NPCs as well: Revar & Kashire. For any questions regarding this month's prompts, please comment in the Plotting Post. For general game questions, please check the FAQ/Game Info. In the meantime, remember to submit your Regains for this month's free reward, and keep an eye out for our AC Check-in next week, starting on January 25-31.

The new year has brought us plenty of thirsty vampires, so we're glad you're here to share them with you!

Threaded | Flat

1. Fluffy pink dreams

[Bright sunlight - a sight many Youngbloods hadn't seen in decades, and novices for months. The sunny day was accompanied by a cool, spring breeze and colorful flowers swaying in the breeze. Nearby is a small cottage, loud and ruckous as over a dozen children from just after toddlerhood to late teen runs around, disturbing chickens. Watching from a tree and desperately trying to cover his ears is the youngblood clad in rustic clothes. A heavy-set woman comes out, yelling several names for dinner]

2. A little blood will cure

[The petite man sighs, placing his hands on his hips as he looks over the novices. He comes back from specimen gathering, and there's trouble. He picks up a tattered haversack that smelled strongly of herbs, slinging it over his shoulders.]

We'll be tending to the ones who are not waking up, if your maker is assisting, stick with them - otherwise follow me and watch, I'll show you how to treat this.

[a beat]

Oh. I know you're curious, but please don't try to read their minds. It's a very bad idea, you'll fall victim and it'll very embarrassing for everyone. [Sven says the last as if that's the most important thing to consider.]

3. Skating time is here.
[He isn't competing, but the Youngblood is gliding across the ice with practiced ease, if he notices someone stumbling he moves in to help right them, or help them fall into the snow bank instead of on the ice before going to skate off without a word.

If anyone skates along with him, he doesn't speak but a faint grin appears and he quickens, silently inviting them to race him]

Wildcard?
((ooc: throw anything up, or contact me at

RShini to plot))

Edited 2024-01-21 05:22 (UTC)

Once Upon A Dream
((content: gore, cannibalism is opt-in))

You know who’s having a lovely dream? This guy! It takes place in a dark, shrouded forest, which would be very safe to walk in even if it were not the dead of night. The crazed howls of interesting beasts, the scent of fresh grass and fresh blood, it’s a marvelously stimulating experience. as if something had been hunted and killed after a good chase.

Laios is in the form of a great white wolf, which is recognizable as his animal form to those who are aware of him. There are other, even more fantastical animals around. Deer with twisting, thorny antlers that move and flex. Wolves with the heads of rabbits and rabbits with the heads of wolves. Unusually sized mushrooms running along on lil’ mushroom feet. He salivates. He hasn’t tasted anything that wasn’t primarily blood in so long.

Winter Games

Sports are all well and good, Laios likes going out on the ice and snapping legs in half as much as the next guy! But he has this project he’s become absorbed in and has been spending so much free time on it. He’s even missed a few classes, which is bad for a student and worse for a teacher, which he is. You hired him, Revar. This is on you. What he is doing is making an elaborate snow fort on the lawn, brick by brick. Maybe he’s almost done, though?

“You know, I’ve never seen a snow fort with a second floor. I wonder why nobody’s tried it before.”

Nope. Oh, now he's making a very detailed gargoyle.

Classes!
((content: snakes))

Keeping the exact structure vague because otherwise I’d need four sub prompts on this one, but it is a certainty that a class Laios teaches will involve animal handling at some point, and this month he has a seasonal treat!

“Snakes get energy from their environment, so they won’t move around in cold months like this. So even novices can handle them safely!”

He cheerfully flips open a basket, which contains what could be a pile of reddish rope, if one were optimistic.

“This is a scarlet diamond viper! The venom has a lot of interesting effects on blood itself, and causes short-term paralysis in even mature vampires! Depending on the dose, even a full grown cow can bleed internally until it dies! Novices are somewhere in between, I guess…”

Laios has a bright and completely sincere big ol grin plastered on his face. He thinks snakes are cool, everyone else probably does too, right? He raises the subject up with a firm grip behind her diamond-shaped head.

“Who wants to milk her? Don't be shy!“

Edited (oops top line) 2024-01-20 20:22 (UTC)

I. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME (A&B)

cw: violence, enthrallment

[ Wyll hasn't been at Courtsheart for very long. Still in his first season, he's not quite used to the idea of eventually becoming a vampire. It's bad enough that he was still getting used to this strange land before he'd been surreptitiously taken into their midsts but. Well.

A dream is a far more pleasant place to be, for Wyll.

Or it would be, were he dreaming of his home. Alas, his mind sees fit to bring him to a memory. One tinged by the distant roar of fire and the nearer smell of ash. And the beautiful, terrible, melodorous voice of the vampire he'd failed to kill. ]

Dear, you really must speak up. Do you want to save this miserable little village or not?

[ The voice belonged to her, the vampire who had started this entire thing. The vampire who had stepped out of a gilded carriage with eyes as gold as the finest sacristy, and what felt like a razor-sharp smile. It was a Finding, or so the locals had tried to explain. Wyll did not understand. What manner of creature could bring an entire town to its knees?

He'd been a fool, he knows now. He bore the gashes along his face and the shaking of his ribs, every labored breath a testament to his foolishness. The town burned, and the children he'd helped save had only one place to hide -- the church he and his fellows had helped build.

They would be next, he knew. For Wyll may not have known vampires, but he knew evil. And evil savored its kills, it fed on suffering and avarice and evil was present before him now, offering him a smile so smug -- the canary was caught, now it was the cat's turn to play with its food.

Wyll swallows. He knows the words he's about to speak are where he erred, but he cannot stop himself from speaking them. ]

You swear you won't hurt them? You swear you'll leave this place?

[ The vampire croons, an almost alluring, teasing lilt to her voice that matched neither the bloodied claws that were her hands, nor the almost pearlescent hue of her skin. She gestures as she speaks, casual grace even as the raging smoke and fire that surrounds them makes her appear more as a devil than anything else. ]

I swear, on my honor as a vampire, that I will leave the villagers be. [ She extends a hand almost daintily, like she expects a kiss rather than a handshake. ] In exchange, you'll come with me, Foundling. Deal?

[ Wyll tries against all his best instincts to stop himself. This time it would be different. This time he'd run her through. It's a dream, after all, he can do things differently, can't he? Maybe. Maybe not. ]

[ A. Pleasant Dream Against all odds, Wyll draws his sword and strikes true. His sword finds itself lodged in her chest, dripping a faint trail of liquid gold down the wound, and lower still as the cut of her dress goes beyond where Wyll would allow himself to look. ]

What? No, I... [ He laughs, almost desperate. This can't be real? The vampire curls in on herself, falling to the ground. ] That's... Is that all?

[ Is that all? ]

[ B. Nightmare Memory Dream or not, this is a memory. And in the memory, Wyll did not stab the vampire. In the memory, Wyll takes her hand. He nods, muttering a quick "Deal," before their 'bargain' is struck.

He then finds his voice bound, his limbs moving of their own accord. She smiles, approaching him, turning his head towards the destruction that remains. He cannot scream, suddenly, as the vampire turns around and does the same to the rest of his friends. "The villagers," she'd said. Of course. His fellow preists and friars were not villagers.

The village continues to burn, but now it is his former friends who are attacking it. Compelled, as he is. As he'd been. Wyll cannot speak, cannot shake or scream or cry as the vampire twirls her wrist and one of the men stabs the other. A scream rings out -- but not his. He remains mute.

This isn't even a cursed nightmare. This is just a memory! ]

II. ANYWAY... SPORTS!

[ Wyll has not been enthused about most of the events the school has put on so far, but sports are actually kind of... nice? Almost normal? He steers clear of anything related to enthrallment, but even he can admire the work that goes into the figure skating competition, if he just forgets that the participants are mostly vampires.

Why, he might even smile. ]

We should have more things like this. Shame it took a bloody curse to get them to do something that was just fun for the fun of it.

[ That's not right, ackshully, the Winter Games are a time-honored tradition but Wyll doesn't know that, does he! ]

III. SNOW DAY

[ There's really no point in being too dour. The mood in the castle is tense enough with the nightmare curse afflicting people, and Wyll's never been one to wallow. Thus you will find Wyll out on the grounds. His one good eye just barely has a hint of red in it, so he's bundled up to his nose in a scarf.

You'll find him shaping what seems to be... a rather large stack of snowballs. His smile is warm and inviting, kind and true. ]

Would you like to try a match? [ He motions to the stack. ] I'll let you take this bunch, I've got another just past there.

[ That's Wyll!! Feel free to wildcard me or plot with Wyll on the EMP! ]

i. once upon a dream, pt i

For a couple of days now, Satoru has had the same dream. It starts simple; in a strange, underground place that in the dream he knows is called a train station, lined with white tiles and dark ceilings. It's packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, standing in the platforms and the tracks and every crevasse of the station, panicked and terrified, the air thick with fear.

He's taunting someone, his voice flat with irritation.

It's easy to pick them out of a crowd-- they're not human. One stands taller than anybody, chalk white skin threaded with black markings, a skull's grimace for a mouth and gnarled branches growing where it's eyesockets would be. The other, shorter, skin like ash, one enormous eye and a steaming volcano where its scalp should be. Blue fire is flickering around them, far stronger than it's around anyone else, and he can see the hate on their faces, but more interestingly, the fear. The fear of him.

Standing easily on a guardrail to be above the crowd, Satoru turns his head.

"You're not supposed to be here," he sing-songs to the intruder into his dream. Soon enough, he'll realize he's dreaming; his control over his own mind is too good for anything else. "But then, neither am I, right?"

ii. once upon a dream, pt ii

This dream, however, is far more easily recognizable.

He's a young boy, no more than six, his hand being held by a tall, androgynous vampire as they lead him down a path of flowering trees. In the distance is a house -- closer to a mansion -- where two people with familial resemblance stand on the final step, watching with neutral expressions.

Satoru's own young face is neutral, too, or would be, if not for the tears threatening to fall. It just makes the vampire's hand grip his own more tightly.

"I'll make it so that you don't miss them," they say, in a voice that's kind but the implication of their suggestion is anything but, though Satoru's too young to know that. "Soon, you won't even think of your family anymore. You won't need to waste your time. You have a purpose far greater."

His adult self is watching from a distance, and when he senses somebody else, his expression tightens in rarely seen irritation, lips thinning, but he says nothing.

iii. winter games!

Ice hockey, it has to be noted, is one of Satoru's favorite sports.

So here he is, clad in way too much gold for his taste, no padding or helmet to speak of because of course they don't need those things, gleefully whacking people left and right with his stick as he barges through people in chase of the puck. The score is 3-1, Gold up versus their opponents, and Satoru's goal was the first of the game, taken in a savage strike.

Shadowstepping is considered cheating, but mind control still isn't, so Satoru gleefully seizes the minds of every single one of the opposing team and makes them stand still as he sails between them, gliding gracefully toward the goal. Maybe someone might manage to break free?

On the other hand, you might catch him at a snowball fight, taking it far too seriously while cackling and pelting people with lumps of snow that are probably closer to ice than anything else.

Using some compulsion to ensure nobody can see him, he sneaks up to one of the opposing team -- or maybe the same team, he's not actually picky -- and yanks the back of their collar open, dumping snow down their backs.

Dreams

A. [It's bright outside is perhaps the first thing noticed before Enrico steps out of a carriage that looks like it's seen better days, two rucksacks over his back as he mutters something to the man up top. The garb is perhaps strange to some, a long black cassock with an ornate gold cross in the front, priest collar, black pants, and matching black shoes. A crucifix of gold is seen delicately on his neck, making him look far out of place on the outskirts of this village.

Luckily he moves quickly towards the village properly, pleasantly greeting anyone that encounters him along the way. There's strange looks and some more curious while others are suspicious, but either way he doesn't seem to be particularly bothered. Until he's met by a man that seems better dressed than those he's passed previously, not seeming to expect him.]

"Ah, Father Pucci, you're just in time but also a bit... late." [The man starts, Enrico merely raising a brow at him as he waits for him to continue.]

"Father Bazzano unfortunately disappeared the night before, we haven't seen hide or hair of him since." [The vampires, he assumes, expression remaining relatively neutral outside of the frown.]

Then I suppose it's my place to take over for him in his absence until he's either found, returns, or we find out what happened to him. Though I'll send word that another permanent priest will need to be sent over as my orders were to travel, unfortunately. [It'll... probably be fine.]

B. [There's tension in the air, fear, in what seems the dead of night. The only night coming from the moon coming in through the window slats. Enrico is crouched down in what seems to be a relatively poor little hut, a young boy tucked against his side with his face buried in the priest's side, hands clutching tightly to his cassock. Pucci, in turn, has his arm around him, defensive.

Outside there's the sound of yelling, anger.]

"Find that damn child! No one escapes from the Finding!"

[The child squeaks before Pucci's pulling him tighter to his side, trying to remain calm despite everything. How are they going to get out? He's not sure, but he certainly knows he's not going to give this child up.] Don't worry, you'll be safe. [He whispers softly, trying, hoping, that he can calm this child down to give them some more time for him to figure out his next move. Even as he uses his free hand to make a cross, touching his forehead, lips, breast, and chest. He just has to trust in his faith, right?]

Sports

[Does he like being here? Absolutely not. Does he like this whole vampire thing? No. Is he absolutely freezing? Yes. He also doesn't know how to feel about the whole clothing changes thing still, but it probably doesn't particularly matter when he's wrapped in what seems to be ten layers of clothing, topped off with a black fur-lined cloak, gloves, and scarf that covers most of his face.

It's safe to say he's staying absolutely clear of all the sports outside of figure skating, not terribly fond of the fact that probably most of the ones out there are vampires so their grace is unnatural by human standards. But at least this is something that is mostly normal and he can always appreciate the arts and especially when it shows off just how graceful the human form can be. Even if he's always had more of a critical mind towards things.]

It seems almost unfair to allow anyone not a vampire to participate in these, isn't it? Skating was meant to show off things the human body can do, not what unnatural things can do. [Does he mean things as in actions or things as in vampires? Yes.]

Wildcard

[During all of this nonsense one might actually encounter Enrico in one of the rooms that has a fire in it or the library. For the fireplace room he can be found at some kind of desk or table, writing something in what is Latin with a bunch of diagrams of what seem like crosses of some form??? And in the center of the page is what seems to be a heart on fire with the top part of a cross in the top and a crown of thorns around the heart? Look, don't question what he's doing, it's probably better that you don't.

If one happens upon him in the library he's a little different, sitting at one of the tables and seeming quite intent on one of the history books, looking between it and what he's writing on. Upon further inspection it's in some sort of other language (in reality it's Italian) but seems to just be some sort of outline of what he's reading? He's a strange man and perhaps it's better to not bother him.]

(OOC: if you want any other prompts, throw them at me or contact me over at

rustedpoetry.)

Edited 2024-01-21 01:08 (UTC)

Once Upon a Dream.

[It's dark. Pleasant, not too warm and not too cold, with a light breeze blowing. Wherever you are, it seems like the kind of calm place where you could just sit back and relax all aftern --

There's a voice. A little girl's voice. And a finger confidently pokes your forehead.]

Are you going to sleep all day?? Wake up! Wake up wake up waaaaake uuuup!

[The girl is roughly ten, with brown eyes and shoulder-length chestnut hair. A bit of hair at the top of her head persistently sticks upwards, sort of like an adorable cowlick. She isn't waiting for your response, proceeding to pinch your cheeks and smoosh your face obnoxiously.

... What an impatient brat.

If you bother to open your eyes (which you should, because who knows what lengths a bratty ten year old will go to to get attention?????), you'll find yourself on the ground, leaned up against the stone wall of a courtyard. In front of you is a large stone building. Those from the Silver Court lands, or who have at least traveled through, may recognize the large-ish-town-small-ish-city as being located there.

That girl in her plain dress will stop harassing you, instead choosing to point dramatically.

(There's a heavy, invisible, uncomfortable weight settling on your shoulders when you look at her.)]

We've got soooo much investigation to do today! So let's go! We haven't checked the spooky abandoned house up on the hill! Or or, there's that lady over on the east side by the river! People say she's a witch, so maybe she can help!

((A. The spooky house comes with CWs: dissection of a child (no eye, teeth, nail stuff), murder. B. The Witch is the cute fluffy option with CATS.))

Winter Games.

[Sports have never really been Yuri's thing, even before when he was somewhat healthy. Nowadays with his brain injury he has absolutely no hope in participating in most of the activities aside from thrall curling, but that's one activity he's pointedly avoiding. Instead, he's reluctantly parked himself in the stands of a hockey game instead, his crutch next to him.

He doesn't want to be here. It's cold, the frigid air is causing his head ache, the snow and ice make it hard to get around, and he's surrounded by people. It's a lot of his least favourite things all bundled together to make for one exceptionally miserable experience, but he isn't just up and leaving.

"This is a good opportunity to see how vampires combine physical strength and dexterity with strategy. Go observe and then we'll see how you can apply this data elsewhere."

Ugh. His Maker's an asshole.

So there he is, chin in one hand as he glares down at the rink, sounding fed up with everything as he grumbles under his breath.]

Those fuckers are playing too defensively. 1-2-2? What nonsense. If they want a chance at winning they're going to have to switch to an aggressive forecheck to get ahold of the puck.

Library.

((CW: symptoms of a traumatic brain injury.))

[Yuri can often be found in the library when he isn't attending classes or sleeping back in his room. In fact, those are basically the only three places he ever goes because being sociable is a ridiculous thing other people do, not him, so. The library it is.

He's commandeered one of the tables, crutch leaning against it, and filled it with books on the most boring subjects imaginable (math, vampiric philosophy, a bit of history), though he isn't actually reading the one that's open in front of him. No, he's got his head in one hand, a pained grimace on his face as he frantically scribbles something down in a book. Not a full-sized notebook for class, more like a little pocket book you'd keep on yourself for reminders and lists. This looks like a little more than someone bored with studying.]

Wildcard.

((Have something else in mind? I can be reached via PM or at

cryptophyta!))

Edited 2024-01-21 01:50 (UTC)

[The corner of your eye.]

[Strange critters hanging around isn't all that weird! Vampires have inner animals, after all, so seeing some out of place creature scuttling around isn't out of place in Castle Courtsheart. It's entirely possible that you've seen a particular red-tailed hawk with a little red scarf perched here and there, just checking stuff out.]

[Usually, he just flies away, off to do important hawk things, but this time, if you manage to catch the hawk's eye, he'll spread his wings and- become a whole guy!]

[With a gleam in his blue eyes and a grin that screams busy body he will greet you, if you're a Novice.]

Hey, hey, you look new around here, what's your name? We got such an interesting batch of novice's the past season, it looks like.

[Or, if you're a fellow Youngblood.]

Want to grab a drink? I've been so busy lately, it seems like I've missed a lot, let's catch up!

[For youngbloods who know him, Hayato is a friendly guy who seems to be pretty genuine 90% of the time, but blue court knows him as a guy who is always listening, and looking for information. For what? Who knows! He doesn't share his secrets with anyone. He's been a youngblood for about 15-20 years.]

[Winter Sports!!]

[Sorry about getting absolutely clotheslined by a 5'8" brick wall, but once the score is called he'll hurry over to try and help you up. Look, all's fair in the heat of the game, but he's not a jackass.]

Sorry about that! You okay? C'mon, you can get me back in the next round.

[Winter Sports Part 2]

[When he isn't playing, he's also the ref. Man likes sports! But, he calls it fairly and he will not stand for people getting in his business over it.]

Oi, it was out of bounds! I'm not changing the call. If you've got a problem, we can settle this after the game. [With fists.]

[A Nightmarish Curse.]

[That screaming is becoming synonymous with the nights of this month. While walking down the hall, Hayato will turn the corner and try to catch your attention.]

Hey, I've found another. I'm going to need some help with this one.

[For all that he's usually in a cheery mood, there's a stone cold seriousness in him now. Whatever is going on in the castle, hurting everyone, he's not happy about it and he's taking it seriously.]

[ooc: HIS AU WORKSHOP IS HERE. Feel free to reach out to me to plot!]

1. Getting Proactive
[ When this curse first appeared, it was concerning. Then, as it started to spread exponentially, it felt more important to find a cure. not just that, but to treat the symptoms long enough so no one died before the cure was found. There were efforts being done towards that.

There's something else that has Eden going out and putting together sets of packets, which have an earthy, unearthly, and floral scents coming from them, that have suggestions as well as instructions for the herbs inside. The suggestions were as simple as chocolate, baths, and even sex, for being done before bed. Those familiar with herbs would recognize a lot of the ingredients were for strengthening the mind, relieving stress and anything that would keep the throat moist and relaxed. Some of the ingredients could even be considered risky, if the dosing was off by a bit. (Surprisingly, the ratios are done with confidence.) She was working on a preventative.

It's easy enough to find her working on this, either measuring out the herbs, or writing everything up in the library or while around most places. ]

Maybe I should send out batches of those oil infusions for the vampires...

2. A little dream
[ Oddly enough, regardless of which night or type of dream comes about there's a faint song from the blue court lands that could be heard in a low alto voice.

It starts off being in an ancient forest filled most of a mountain, rich in colors and flora that wasn't known to exist in the world anymore, if it ever did. The skies were filled with an aurora borealis that reflected in the crystal clear lake. There was a heavy charge in the air that filled lungs and could stay there so easily... ]

A. (CW: Potential aphro, nudity, sex)
[ Rest assure, this is not a side effect of the teas she was handing out. No, this is from other things that Eden was doing for her body, bleeding out into dreams.

In the early days, the dream stays here, as the heat of the air could easily fill the belly. There was something about the smell of the atmosphere, sweet with another undertone to it. There was a velvety texture to the vines that hung over branches and mountain walls and a gentle mist, caused by the waterfall pouring into the lake.

When getting that feeling that someone was around, Eden slowly popped her head up from in the water's edge. Though the smile quickly becomes a look of confusion, as if realizing that there was more cognizance in this dream than usual. Yet with someone here, she can't remember who was supposed to show up. ]

How...?

B.
[ It's not long that in trying to search out the cause of the curse that Eden got caught up in it herself, and the dreams are quickly taken over by a nightmare. The forest is quickly snowed and frozen over, and the song takes a sadder tone to it. With a horn and the howls of a pack of hunting dogs, urgency becomes the heaviness invades the air.

Some figure, cloaked and with all features covered in shadow, would run with a limp through the trees, leaving a heavy trail of blood. It's so cold, and a drumming is felt from the earth, slowly increasing in rhythm. For the moment, there's just a voice that echoes through the air.]

Run

3. A little mischief (For existing CR)
[ At some point after the curses get figured out and the sports are considerd the important thing happening, there's a young man, probably about 5'8" if he took off the low-heel boots and with deep slate-blue eyes, walking around to find some of the more established people that he knew. He was relying on looking like one of the newer first season novices. Not that they'd know they knew him when crossing paths... Unless they knew how to look and sense people by their minds.

Which is the perfect time to follow along with a friendly smirk. ]

Hey, mind me getting your help with finding somewhere?

4. Misc
[ For anything else you want to come up with. Eden doesn't know sports enough to join in (and definitely doesn't know how to skate,) but it's been inspiring for some things. You may find her dancing off to the side in a way that actually looks really suitable for blades, though her hands would remain empty. Toss anything this way, or reach me on plurk at

demonia ]

Edited 2024-01-21 03:55 (UTC)

a nightmarish curse

[Figures that when Norton finally stops being a hermit and ventures out of his work to socialize, things have gone to shite. A curse, huh? Norton has little experience with such things, but at least he knows some human-style first aid, and can coach the novices on what they can do to help if they're dealing with a novice who hasn't fully transformed yet.]

Keep a cool head on you, so you can observe and not miss a thing. Tune out the screaming-- trust me, it's worse for me than it is for you. [That last comment was delivered rather sardonically, his smile crooked... Though it wasn't even a genuine smile anyway.] But if you're that concerned... Put something in their mouth, make sure it depresses the tongue and keeps the fangs away. There are worse awakenings than realising your tongue is gone, but it would still be unpleasant.

[Then he leans over the body of the cursed vampire, though keeps his hands to himself.]

What's their status again? Novice? Youngblood? [Guess who wasn't paying attention. Is he really a teacher here?]

anyway, winter games! (betting on players)

[Sod curses, apparently. Some of the Blue Court's inclinations are not his style, but at least they got this thing right. Perhaps playing in the snow is a bit too childish, and some of the games are just downright ludicrous (thrall-curling? really? stars above!) but at least someone's being entertained...

And, hey, if there's a competition, there's sure to be gambling, right? If not, then there should be.

Norton takes a spot beside a fellow spectator of the hockey game, to strike up a casual (for now) conversation.]

Eh, all of them look to be in good shape, but it's the nature of vampires, isn't it? Who're you rooting for, in any case? It doesn't need to be your own Court, really. [Bit funny, coming from a man with his own Court's colours.]

anyway, winter games! (snowball fights)

[What was that about playing in the snow being a little too childish?

Well, fuck that. Sometimes you just have the impulse. An unlucky someone might just get a snowball to the chest. Or the head. Or even the face, if Norton can get a good angle in.

And when caught? He gives that crooked little grin, complete with a hint of fang.]

What, afraid of a little snowball? [Norton crouches down to mold another one, keeping eye contact all the while.] Don't know how to dodge or block?

wildcard
[bring your own prompt! feel free to send me a pm first if you'd like to plan it out before writing.]

a dream of pleasant memories

[ Edgin's dreams are, for the most part, quite peaceful. He dreams of an idyllic little farm, in an idyllic little town in the North. Edgin might be found walking home arm in arm with a beautiful woman, a young girl running circles around them trying to tell them all about her day. Or perhaps the scene is on the farm, the child off with the animals, while Edgin tends to crops, and his wife is off cooking, getting lunch ready for them once they come in. Or later that night, out underneath the stars with a small fire, sitting around and simply chatting.

Regardless, two things are obvious: first, Edgin is very, very in love with his family; and, second, Edgin is still very much human in these dreams. It may be hard to get his attention, because he doesn't want to leave this. He wants to be surrounded by family and he wants to be happy.

Edgin isn't sure he's been happy in a long time.]

a night of twisted nightmares (cw: family member murder; potential death of a child)

[ If your character wanders into Edgin's nightmares, they all start the same way, he's standing in a large town square--really, more like a city plaza--surrounded by a crowd that's watching. It's the middle of the night, and a vampire with gold eyes is explaining all the crimes he's committed. The specifics are unimportant.

Until the vampire says that Edgin had killed his family. ]

No! I -- that didn't happen.

[ But even as he protests, a knife materializes in his hand. And then, suddenly, he's holding his wife's body in his arms, stabbing her over and over. She doesn't scream, she simply stares up at him with pleading eyes. Blood flows from the gaping wound from her chest, red at first, and then gold. ]

No, no it didn't happen this way. This isn't what happened.

[ Edgin's hands are covered in her blood. His daughter is screaming. She can't be more than 11 years old. She runs up to him, slamming her little fists into him, kicking and biting and screaming as he twists the knife in his wife's heart. Dad, stop it! Stop it, you're hurting her! ]

I swear, Kira, I swear, I didn't---it's not what it looks like.

Finding a Cure

[ Despite the brutal nightmares that came after him, Edgin managed to not fall to their curse. He's able to search for a cure with everyone else. But Edgin isn't found in the front lines next to the Silver Court vampires in the nursing ward. Instead, he's found in the library, reading for hours through all kinds of texts.

He's sure there's information about this somewhere. Maybe in an obvious place like in medical texts, or maybe hidden away in the restricted section. And he's going to find it.

Of course, he loses track of time. He might be in the library after the sun comes up, tucked away in some corner, taking notes diligently as he tries to figure out what the Castle remembers about a curse like this. ]

Anyway, Sports!!

[ The Winter Games are a distraction from the stress of the nightmares. But, more than that, Edgin legitimately wants the students to do well! He can be found cheering on Blue Court in all their sports, standing by with extra water or towels or a little bowl of oatmeal. Are there thralls for that? Sure. But look, this is packed with the power of cheerleading for his Court! ]

wildcard

[ feel free to run into Edgin elsewhere, or in one of his classes! ]

(( As a note: Phillip also draws from the novel A Prince of Thorns and Nightmares, which is Disney novel that is a mix of filling in the blanks and a bit of reimaging. ))

once upon a dream

[ The dream is the same. It's always the same. It's the dream of a girl he's met once, sixteen years ago. He's had to make her up, in his dreams. She's a stuffy princess, the kind that knows she's beautiful.

But in the dream, she's not a vampire. She's just a normal girl. And he's a normal boy. They do the things normal humans do, like go out in the sun and go on walks in the woods.

Rather than actually participating, though, Phillip stands back watching the scene. Watching the dream version of him do these dream things. ]

It's nice, isn't it?

[ He's aware enough to recognize someone else is here with him, which should probably surprise him but also he lives in a castle full of vampires, and also his betrothed got turned into a vampire before she was supposed to, so now he's just bitter and nothing fazes him. ]

It's too bad it'll never be real.

Searching For A Cure

[ Phillip doesn't know how he can help. He's a first season, and he barely knows anything about being a vampire. But he wants to help so badly. Need someone to get flowers from the green house or around campus? He's your guy. Water for the screaming patient? Sure. Run to the library for books? Of course.

But mostly, he wants to learn how to heal. He wants to know what it's like to do magic, which despite how everyone treats it, he's pretty sure vampires actually do.

Wouldn't that be grand? To do magic and heal people?

Sure, he's got a maker in Gold Court, but a boy can dream, can't he? ]

Please, let me help. I won't get in your way, I promise.

Actually, Skip Sports

[ Phillip will not be attending sports! He's been forced to play in far too many tournaments and with no one demanding his presence (and the Gold Court novices by and large very happy to try and show off), he sneaks away.

Where does he go?

The stables.

Yes, resident horsegirl Phillip would much rather spend his time in the company of those fine, fourlegged friends. He comes with a bag full of carrots and apples and he spends time with each of them. He already knows all of their names, and you might just overhear him talking to them. ]

Well, it's just, she's not going to remember me anyway, is she? She's got more important things in her life. Also, she was a baby when I met her. Babies don't know anything. They definitely don't remember anything.

1. A guilty Nightmare (cw: mass death, death of children)

[Upon entering the dream, the intruder would find themselves on the bridge of a ship. It was a strange ship, floating in the sky and made of sheets of metal, with lights of all colors flashing. Harlock stands at the ship's wheel, his knuckles white as he stares at the massive window that takes up much of the floor.

Below, there were shiny, silvery people running and screaming, some sprawled lifeless as buildings were reduced to smokey ruins or infernos. Among the strange-looking people were what looks to be children - bawling, shaking their parents, or eerily still.]

How could you? I thought you were a man of honor! There are civilians - children. Harlock, please for God's sake - why. Tell me why you're doing this. There must be a reason - do you hate them that much?

[Harlock flinches from the voice - masculine, angry, hurt, betrayed - that echoed, the ship rocking as a powerful force hits it. No - he didn't mean to, he didn't know there were civilians, this - he was told this was a military compound, just soldiers. He stiffens, trying to speak, to explain, but it freezes. He... he can't speak. He can't say a damned word. He can't move.]

2. Sports!

[While he enjoy the beauty of ice-skating, he can't see himself doing any of the fancy tricks, and curling offended his sensibilities even when it wasn't boring. Now hockey? He likes it. He bodychecks an opponent to give a teammate and opening to make a play for the goal.]

You can make it!
[Post game, he's wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, smirking]

3. He's a Bandit, not a doctor

[He hated feeling useless, he's not a healer, he can barely deal with his own nightmares. If he sees someone running by that's clearly knows what they're doing, he starts moving alongside them, not wanting to interrupt them]

Hey, do you need an extra pair of hands?

[Or like a couple of others, he's in the library, searching the shelves, and stacking books on the table that look like they may have any relevant information, in actually well-organized piles by subject matter.]

Wildcard
[Throw anything at him]

Edited 2024-01-23 02:48 (UTC)

I. Dream A Little Dream (Close CR only)

[ The dream starts strangely, though as is the way of dreams, Xenk finds nothing strange about it. He is a child of eight, perhaps? Ten? The sun shines bright overhead. He runs across a courtyard lined in stone gargoyles with golden accents, each menacing face familiar and well-known to him.

This is Xenk's home. He is still young, but he knows all the rules. During the day, Father sleeps. At night, Father wakes. He naps in between, sneaking into rooms and finding nooks and crannies where his parents cannot find him. Today is no different. He is a child. He is happy. ]

Master Xenk, you are to be sleeping.

[ A flat, listless voice calls for him from the entryway. The man calling to him is a splitting image of Xenk himself, with warm, brown eyes and short, dark hair.

Xenk giggles from his hiding spot behind one of the gargoyles. A woman's voice follows, just as flat. She has Xenk's strong jaw and kind features. Or, they might be kind, if the Xenk in real life actually bothered to show any kindness. ]

Master Xenk, listen to your --

[ Her voice catches, like the words have been torn from her mind. They don't exist. Szass Tam is Xenk's Father. That's right. ]

Your Father will be upset if he finds you are awake.

[ Xenk giggles again. Oh, have you been standing there this whole time? He shushes you the moment he sees you, waving you over to hide. ]

Quick, or they'll find me! We're playing hide and seek!

II. Line The Pieces Up

cw: graphic violence, emotional abuse

[ It's years later now, this time Xenk appears as others know him. He looks exactly the same in fact, except his normally-gold eyes are a rich brown. Gold seeps in at the edges of his irises if you squint, but he carries himself with the same severity.

Or he would try to, anyway. He is not trying now. Now he stands in his tiny novice room, licking the blood off his knuckles in a vain attempt to heal them. It's too early for his saliva to be effective enough, but he deeply wishes it were not so. Light seeps into his room from the cracks in his curtains, the red-golden glow putting this memory at sunset.

Xenk braces himself as an imposing figure enters the room. It's his father -- not the man from his earlier memory, but Szass Tam. An imposing, undead creature draped in golden robes and black tattoos that start along his shaved head and cover the rest of his body.

His lips move, and though nothing is audible, Xenk downcast gaze is pulled up. His eyes betray no fear, but instead seem fueld by admiration. ]

No, Father. It won't happen again.

[ His maker's only speaks, but the inaudible words seem to hit Xenk like a blow. Xenk was only ever allowed to make his mistakes once. He knows he would never do so again. ]

I will make you proud, Father.

[ Szass Tam smiles, all teeth, seemingly appeased. Yet this is no memory, and rather than leave, the monstrous vampire raises a clawed hand and drives it through Xenk's middle with a squelch. ]

What...? [ Xenk can only gasp in shock, a pain so brilliant and sudden that it reminds him of how it had felt to lose his Maker. ] ...Father, why?

[ The hand comes back bloody, a mix of human red with molten gold. Xenk falls to his knees in pain, tears streaming down his face without his say so. No, this was not real. It was a nightmare. ]

Father!

[ Xenk calls, the specter of Szass Tam vanishing in a cloud of mist, leaving Xenk clutching his bleeding chest. Yeah, Xenk could use a little help? ]

III. Seeking A Cure (A&B)

[ Freed from his nightmare through either sheer luck or force of will, Xenk has no interest in repeating the experience. The screams that echo throughout the halls of the castle are a mockery of everything Courtsheart stands for, and the curse's magical origins means it's no simple matter.

What can he do? Xenk is in the (A} library, poring through a book of vampiric history. The pages are ancient, the leather quite possibly bound in human skin. Don't worry about it! He is quite intent as he reads, and may need to be poked or prodded to get his attention.

Around him, a team of 6 thralls is likewise poring through books at a rapid pace. They have newer tomes, and their eyes are glazed over from exertion, but it's clear they've been commanded to aid him, and aid him they will, whether they're falling asleep or not.

If that doesn't yield results, then Xenk can be found in his (B) office. Even his perfect skin carries the shade of a lack of sleep. He seems to be... doing math? Yes. He keeps moving tallies over on his abacus, his forehead propped on his free hand, focus intent on whatever calculations he's working on. Hope you weren't here for anything class related, because he's quite visibly not in the best mood.

He speaks without looking up from his work. ]

I am occupied at present. If you have questions pertaining to class, write them down and leave them here. I will respond within two days.

[ You're... dismissed? ]

IV. How About Those Sports!

[ Xenk can't only stay in his office and the library this month. It would be bad form not to represent his Court in the Winter Games, after all. So of course, Xenk joins in the games.

You are looking at the Gold Court's star-thrall curler, 15-years-running. Xenk works wonders on the ice, needing only a glance towards his team to have them all running efficiently, like a well-oiled machine. It's no surprise when he wins yet another match. Really, it's almost unfair how good he is at this.

If you happen to be one of his students who is unlucky enough to make eye-contact with him, you'll find yourself trapped in conversation now. ]

Perhaps you'd like to assist me? The finesse needed for this sport is excellent practice.

[ If you are a teacher, please feel free to either cheer him or roll your eyes at him. There's really no need to care this much about this stupid sport, but boy, does Xenk care. ]

V. Wildcard!

[ For anything else hit me up on Xenk's plotting comment or on plurk! ]

Edited 2024-01-21 07:00 (UTC)

ANYWAY, WINTER GAMES!

[barred from participating, Suguru finds himself at the sidelines, watching the merry crowd hurl snowballs at each other whilst screaming and squealing like children. he's still getting used to being back in the castle, being around so many bodies all the time. they tell him it's normal after being away all these years and he supposes they're right. they also tell him it's a good thing he's going to be around more permanently, that it's not healthy even for them to spend too much time alone, acting as if it had been Suguru's own personal choice to go on mission after mission.

but. he listens with that little kitsune smile on his face, nods and nods. it's only polite. after all, they're all aware of what's owed and to whom.

someone yells something and Suguru ducks away from a snowball only for it to hit the person behind him.]

Oh.

[again a little smile that usually comes before an apology.]

Why didn't you duck?

[no, no, he doesn't think you're stupid. he just has tone issues. focus on the smile. it's friendly enough. probably...]

note: Suguru's been away on missions for several decades. Due to [redacted] he's been recalled this season and is now a teacher. Still in the process of figuring out his history so he's not getting a dream prompt. Happy to do a wild card thing, too, just let me know. :)

≫ I.

[ Dreams are not entirely too high on his priority list, as it were.

Thus, rather than deal with the abrupt increase in mid-day screams like a normal person should, he opts for more conventional methods. What better way to deal with problems than to shove off work on those who need the practice? Certainly there must be a plethora of bleeding hearts in the newly arrived youth.

Perhaps someone is unfortunate enough to be hanging around the room of a cursed screamer, or they've just been singled out like the poor bastard they are. But when they blink, there will be a large figure idly leaning over their shoulder, face hidden by a blinking white mask. ]

Slacking off, are we?

[ Judging by the way the eyes crinkle, is joke! Probably. ]

Ah, but how can I blame you? It's terribly difficult to get any rest with all this racket.

≫ II.

[ Ah, sports. Most definitely not his wheelhouse, and it likely never will be. Which is exactly why, for all these special events, Ash can be found on the sidelines; either with a little mocking wave and faux cheer, or a glass of wine. Don't ask where he got that from.

Either way, should you decide the exertion is not for you or you simply need a break, he'll give the seat next to him a lazy pat with eyes upturning into a smile. ]

All that sweat and blood is a bit much, isn't it? Sit, sit.

[ Please do, he hasn't bothered anyone all day and he's going into withdrawal. ]

≫ III.

[ Eventually, responsibility catches up to him, despite his best efforts to go about this with minimal work ethic. A bit of a scolding here, an exasperated sigh there, and he supposes he can make an effort to help.

Quite a few books on the subject are missing from the library, all medicinal as well as some history. While most wouldn't bother, should you ask about who has them, a certain Blue Court Youngblood's name will come up. More than welcome to ask for them, the thrall in the library says, if you've the interest. The curse is a hot topic of study at the moment, after all.

The door to Ash's office is, as always, open, and one can find him nigh lounging behind the desk. Certainly, despite the pile of books and mess of notes, he doesn't quite look like he's taking this very seriously.

He doesn't look at the entry, leaning back in his chair with a lazy, languid grace, but he does give a welcoming gesture with a gloved hand. ]

If you say you've come for something besides my company, I'll be horribly heartbroken.

≫ IV.

Wildcard! Feel free to PM this account, or message me at lupical! If you'd something memory-related, please let me know! I'd prefer to plot those out specifically. For more info, his AU workshop post is here!

Oh, Is It A Dream? —

I - It's dusk and Conrad can be found sitting in an orchard, the last rays of the sun warming his face. There are fruit trees of various types surrounding him, apples, pears, cherries, plums... And as the sun sets and the stars become visible he lays back on the grass, just admiring the evening sky for a moment, watching the dark clouds obscure the waking moon. And then, as the night envelopes everything around him, in an instant he's up in the air, transformed into his bat self.

He's free to fly wherever he pleases and he passes through the trees until he finds some ripe fruit that's just calling his name. He grasps a branch and quickly tucks into a juicy gigantic peach. Normally it would be too big for a bat to hold onto and he's not actually a fruit bat, but this is all a dream, so it makes sense enough.

Whoever appears in this dream alongside him will be offered to take a bite of some especially sweet fruit. "Hey, you've gotta try some."

II - ( CW: violence, blood ) Another dream of his isn't so pleasant. Conrad finds himself in a dark alleyway. He's running, but he doesn't know what's chasing him. He's being hunted, though, he knows that for sure. He can feel the frantic fear of being caught deep in his gut.

Suddenly something rings out in the darkness. There are several bangs and flashes of light and a wet smokey smell carries on the wind. Conrad looks down at his torso to see his shirt is soaked in blood. He turns his head back toward the source of the noise, but all he sees is a figure lying on the ground, a pool of blood spreading from their body. He feels like he knows this person. Someone with bright red hair and a small frame. He calls out a name, but it sounds garbled. He tries to run toward the body but suddenly his legs no longer work.

What just happened? He tries calling out the same name once again to no avail and drops to his knees. He continues to bleed but remains conscious, despite the pain. "Help! I need... help..." He shouts into the darkness, but will anybody answer? Maybe whoever's hunting him will appear to finish the job.

Curses —

- ( CW: blood ) Somehow, Conrad manages to avoid being cursed so far. Maybe it's because the distorted nightmares he's experiencing are so disturbing they always jolt him awake at sunset? In any case, he's going to do his best to locate and help the victims.

However, he's not exactly sure how he can help to keep them from bleeding out. He can sop up the blood, but that's not exactly doing much. Maybe he should seek someone out from his own court, or whoever, and ask how he can be more useful. At least he can gently try talking to the cursed victims because... Maybe they can hear him?

"You have to wake up," he'll say, on repeat, as he does his best to aid another cursed soul. But his words are pretty much lost amidst all the screaming. It's probably not helping at all...

Snowy, Snowy, Snow —

- Conrad never cared about sports. They're just not his thing. He's also not a big fan of messing about in the snow. Sure, vampires can't get frostbite, but he doesn't want to be cold and inevitably wet after he's been in the snow and goes inside to warm up.

One thing he doesn't mind so much is walking in the snow, though. It's peaceful. And he even has a pair of snowshoes on so he's not sinking down into it. They also prevent his new boots from getting all slushy, too.

If someone is so inclined they can interrupt his solitude and he won't mind too much. Maybe he can even be talked into sledding or some other classic winter activity. Or lob a snowball at him, and see what happens. Fair warning, he'll be more than a little grouchy over his clothes getting covered in snow. And so help you if you break his glasses. He can't be seen without his glasses.

Wildcard— ( Please feel free to tweak any of the prompts or come up with something else~ Here's Connie's plotting thread or you can reach me @

TheRusty or PM if you have any questions or want to plot something! )

Edited 2024-01-22 19:13 (UTC)

{ONCE UPON A DREAM - Variations Underlined}

[It is Yasuho's second season at the Castle. While Gold is Greatness, she hasn't felt especially great. Her Maker has been merciful- it helps that despite her mood, she's still done well with the courts as she studied- but she does not feel 'great'. Truthfully, she hasn't felt 'great' since the batch of foundlings arrived at the end of November, a familiar face among them.

It is with such a mood that the young novice goes to sleep that evening, and it is perhaps because of that mood that her dreams lead her to a scene from when she was much, much, much smaller.

Back when she showed 'potential', perhaps.

It is Late.

A young Yasuho should not be out this late at night. Not even in Gold territory, where in theory there are no 'true monsters' who would roam the streets- let alone the streets of a city. The little girl is alone though, which really won't do. Her 'friends' have left her behind to skip home, and she herself now sits on a swing.

Alone.

At least until a figure- unidentifiable, cloaked in the gold of summer- steps forward.

Perhaps with someone else. Someone who wasn't actually there.

Someone who's wandered into this dream unexpected.

Yasuho dreams. ....but not all dreams are pleasant.

It is Day. The sun shines brilliantly. Yasuho wears not the garb of a woman growing used to the privledges of being a castle novice, but instead the gown of a maiden coming of age, ready to be courted. She seems nervous. But she seems happy- she leaves her house to greet a young man with a bit of a gap in his teeth, and a smile is on her face.]

Josuke! I was waiting- it feels like we haven't talked in ages...I know it's only been a few days, but even so...

[He seems to reciprocate. His smile is as wide and warm as she remembers.

And then the clouds begin to roll in. And the smile seems...fake.

Because this is a nightmare.]

...Josuke?

[And Yasuho has been avoiding Josuke since the minute he arrived for a reason, a reason that now colors every memory she has.]

{A NIGHTMARISH CURSE - Prompts in Underline}

[She's screaming- but perhaps that's no surprise if anyone saw the earlier nightmares. It doesn't take much for things to descend into a curse after all, and soon enough that means she's stuck the way many others are; screaming, hands digging into the covers of the bed, eyes screwed shut so tightly they might bleed.

They do, in fact, after a point- tears of blood from the eyes, even if just a trickle.

(Maybe there's something to be said about true love's kiss? Or maybe just a kiss. Anything to stop the bleeding.)

Awake, and she's not exactly keen on seeing anyone. Well, not seeing anyone awake at least, but even then she'd rather not. Experiencing a nightmare's curse is a fantastic inspiration to try and get rid of it before it plagues anyone else too heavily, so she can be found mostly in her room; at a desk, notes and books around her, the woman huffing and scowling at what she has.

Come in unnanounced, and one might hear her mutter-]

And of course I can't try entering their mind, I'll just get cursed again...

[This is exhausting!]

{THE WINTER GAMES}

[But enough about dreams, and nightmares, and things! Once curses are settled and out of the way, everyone is too focused on sports to even think about what just happened- actually, plenty were more focused on sports before dreams were resolved, but in Yasuho's case she won't be caught dead or undead near the events until then.

The thing is though, she wasn't exactly a sporty sort to begin with- she was definitely one of those 'avoid as many physically oriented classes as possible' sorts for her first season, and it's showing even now. Take a look over her shoulder in the stands. Are those...

Notes?? She's Gold not Silver isn't she?!]

[[OOC - A note on Cotton's court; Blue is being used for the purposes of the TDM, and at this point is the prediction for starting court at minimum, but if anyone specifically would like to reach out to be Cotton's Maker, this is a very flexible matter! Cotton is, ultimately, a Lottery Foundling after all.]]

{ONCE UPON A DREAM - Prompts Underlined - CW: Implied Child (Teen) Death}

[She's...Young again, it seems. It's impossible, but here she stands, in the same garb she remembered wearing long ago that autumn night. Her flower embroidered blouse, her brown skirt...

But she's not alone.]

Oh....Sean! Sean, you came back!

[The boy is sickly in appearance- and yet he seems healthier than ever before. Just a little older than the teenaged form of Cotton before him, he's dressed in stately silvers, washing him out against the snow. It's a comforting dream- a dream of long lost friends taking the other's hand and talking, talking about sheep, about snow, about lanterns and celebrations. A dream of the impossible, it is perhaps acknowledged.

And then it gets...dark.

Not just literally- it was already dark, the sun banished from the sky for this dream. But even the stars and moon seem to vanish, leaving a void of black against a blanket of snow. There had already been snow that night in her memory- but now, there's only snow, and Cotton stills.]

...You know this isn't real, [the young man says, and his words are a hiss on the air.] You know what happened after you said goodbye.

[And Cotton is old again, in her heavy shawls and black bonnet hat, the garb that was reduced to ashes when she arrived.] ....Sean...

Why did you smile, when you said goodbye to me, Camelia? [The words are accusing, and Cotton does not look to face him- simply closing her eyes in worn resignation.] Did you think it would help?

[Cotton says nothing- but perhaps any wandering observer will have more to bring to the table.

It's far from the only time a dream goes sour in such a way. Perhaps it's just a thing that happens when you live your life in Blue territory. Perhaps it's about age, instead.

This one was...A Shepherd, perhaps. Cotton is old and unable to handle that job any longer, and it's been that way for quite some time now. She gently pats the side of a large sheep as a teenaged boy- not at all the same as from her earlier dreams- prepares to lead the flock away to the fields beyond them. He looks small. Frail, even.

The two trade greetings. Wish each other a good day. She says good luck to him but hesitates, because before the dream can even take its sharp turn she's already recognized it for a dream. Her smile is sad-]

...I'm sorry, dear.

[And the boy pauses.] Huh? Sorry? What for?

You did your best...but it's such a dangerous job. And wolves are so very...

[A blanket of mist, and just like that, they're not at the gates with the sheep, with the young teen. Cotton stands in a field instead, dotting her eyes of tears while lighting a small lantern. There is blood on the ground- too much for it to be real, too much compared to what there was in reality, but after all this is a dream.

...and she is not alone.]

...Oh. Oh, dear me, this isn't a welcoming sight at all is it, [she sighs, not yet turning to look at who stands in her dream now.] ...I don't normally have dreams like this I don't believe. ...You'll have to excuse me...

{A NIGHTMARISH CURSE}

[Despite everything, and despite the number of small but harsh losses, bloodied fields, and bitter winters that have plagued this old novice's dreams, Cotton does not in fact fall to the curse of the nightmare. It's perhaps a relief; no one likely wants to hear those kinds of screams, or witness so frail seeming a person in the throes of it.

As one not under the curse however, that means she's someone who ought be doing her part to help. And certainly, help she does, or at least tries. But Cotton has only been here for so long- she's in her first season, and barely at that. She's come from the territory of the Blue court, and by the draw of their 'lottery'- what she has to offer to help...is minimal.

But what she has at least, is the experience of the harsh northern lands surrounding her old village.]

We need warm water, clean of course- two basins would be best, [she is instructing a thrall, her tone serious even if her voice is yet soft and gravelly in her age. Once she has her things settled, she turns to the victim in question.] Now then, lets get this blood cleaned up...

[She can be found tending to wounds, mostly. She hasn't yet come far enough to simply 'kiss things better', but cleaning and bandaging is a thing she knows.

...She can also be found...singing. A gentle song of the snow, her hand on the cursed victim's own, her voice never faltering. It's a lullaby- soft, gentle, and impossibly perhaps the screams might seem to lessen.

Just a little. One could interrupt her, of course.

Or maybe wait, for the end of the song.]

{THE WINTER GAMES}

[Now this is something that has old Cotton excited. It's been a long time since she's enjoyed winter sport for herself- and it'll be a bit longer yet, what with not quite being used to having the chance. Indeed, at the site of Thrall Curling, she's instead brought for herself a rather massive bundle of yarn and a set of needles, settling in to watch.

That's not the only thing she's brought however, because it seems she does get to send a team out at one point!]

Now, everyone is bundled, yes? Very good. I have lots of warm cookies waiting for you all, and hot cocoa as well, I used a northern recipe...

[It doesn't really seem like these are things that would matter for a win, not much at least. Honestly Cotton herself doesn't even really have a grasp on enthrallment. These thralls are impressively under-thralled, with about as much guidance as can be expected from a begginer.

...But.]

You're doing fantastic dears!

[...There does appear to be an astounding amount of power in encouragement and the offer of fresh backed goods, because while they're hardly up against the best team, Cotton's own is doing pretty great!

...Go Grandma!]

{BONUS: OPEN JOURNAL ENTRY}

If it's not too much to ask, I would like to know everyone's favorite colors. I have a lot more freedom with my yarn now, and much less people to knit for otherwise!

- Camelia Cotton

[Grandma that's not quite how you use- oh, well.]

I. Once Upon A ~~Dream~~Nightmare

CW: Human culling, famine, starvation, possible dream cannibalism, night terrors

[There are no good dreams for Jim. No happy dreams of his childhood or his other life as a starship captain. No, only nightmares find Jim this month.

Speaking of which... you find yourself in a crowd of people, the evening is late and the sun already gone for the day, long gone leaving only a frigid early winter chill. The trees are still losing leaves even if there is already a frost on the ground. Everyone is gathered in the center of a town, a man-- no, a vampire with unnaturally blue eyes standing up on balcony to address everyone.

A young, unhealthily skinny boy of no more than thirteen stands beside you, looking not at the vampire who speaks of the town's wellbeing and the meager harvest, instead he looks at the shadows nearby with keen blue eyes, his entirely human.]

Did you hear that? [He whispers in a voice that's still finding it's depth.] Wait... look there--

[He nods his head and in the shadows is a figure inhuman and monstrous... and another to it's right. The boy's hand reaches out for yours and another child's of no more than nine. He's already slowly backing away, his eyes reading like a deer surrounded by a pack of wolves...

The Blue Court Vampire on the balcony speaks more clearly suddenly:]

And the only way for you to survive the winter is to cull those who are infirm, ill, and weak. Old and young, for the sake of the village, you have been sentenced to death.

[The next thing that happens is night terrors from every corner pounce on the screaming villagers, but your hand is in an iron grip as the boy pulls you and the younger boy along with him. Running, running, running--]

II. Anyway, Winter Games! (A&B)

CW: Blood, Violence

Kirk is both enough of a jock and from the north that this is easy peasy for him! Sure, he looks haggard from endless nightmares, the circles under his eyes deep and dark, but he knows how to skate and skate very well.

[A]So, finding a pair of skates and a hockey stick, Kirk can be found on the ice in his court Blues getting violent on the ice. He knows what he's doing and doesn't shy away from getting in a tussle with a vampire, even though he knows he's going to lose that battle. It's about the thill, he doesn't mind in the slightest.

"You're so going down," he says it with a cocky grin.

Or perhaps, [B] you stumble across him after the game (win or lose) wrapping a particularly bad wound, red and blue blood winding together and mixing to make what visually looks like a beautiful purple. He doesn't seem to mind his wound if the shit eating grin is anything to go by.

"Pretty sure I could have had that guy," he chuckles, there are bruises around his eyes and cheek, he was pretty beat up but it looks good on him.

III. Blood Jewelry

[Valentine's day has always been a day of picking up someone lonely at the tavern and making the night less lonely, but now he has a someone he cares about so... was it the proper use of the day? No, but he doesn't care. It's show-you-care-and-maybe-bang-your-father-figure-maker day now.

He can be found in the library researching this kind of jewelry he keeps hearing about while making sketches in a non magical notebook about. He wants this to be special because soon it might be too late and well... this was special right? Fuck, was he doing this right?]

Aw man.. why can't this shit be easier?

IV. WILDCARD

(Feel free to hit me up for anything! Here is my Plotting Comment if you want to discuss something!)

ONCE UPON A DREAM PT: 1 (CW: blood/child abuse)

[It was a quaint room. A room filled with mundane things. A sofa, a kitchen, a coffee table. Daria walked in, in her Youngblood outfit...feeling out of place. But there was a warmth in the air. An unfamiliar feeling. Daria sank onto the sofa, feeling listless and lost as to where she was and why this felt so real. Silver Court magic again probably, a mess she was going to have to solve on her own. Again.

She sighed yet found herself sinking into the sofa until the door opened. A young beautiful girl, older woman in a business suit, a gentleman in a business suit, and a young woman in alternative wear. Upon seeing Daria on the sofa, they looked shocked.

Daria was unsure of how to react. Was she dreaming or was this really happening?]

Sorry, I will leave this was an accident I-

Daria?! Is that you?? Oh, we were looking everywhere for you!

Geez, Daria, you even gave ME a scare!

Daria, I was ready to call the damned FBI!

[The alternative girl said nothing, instead giving a pained expression. Running toward her, Daria was unprepared. She was embraced by the young woman and soon enough, the rest. The warmth of four people holding her, a love she didn't recognize. A love she couldn't find reason for-

Unless.

...Daria leaned into the hugs given to her, somehow allowing her to feel it. Was this a family? Why was she seeing a family? After all of these years? And a friend? A real friend? These words started flooding her brain as she felt her heart leap, taking in the embrace.

Until she felt something cold on her ankle. The cold pierced her skin against the warmth atmosphere that she started feeling something about. Something familiar...A family. People who love her. Taken by the piercing and bruising cold of the chains. The chains pulled on her skin, causing it to peel it and make it bleed. Then, a force pulled her down, slamming her on the ground and out of the arms of her friend and family...Her friend and her family!]

Worthless filth! You think you deserve this?? After what you did to us?

No, stop! You're all sick! All of you, let me go! You deserved it, you freaks!

Is that the thanks we get after letting you live all those years! Feed you our garbage and giving you the basement was too much for you! Ugly, worthless wretch! No one wants you. Especially after you MURDERED us.

You MURDERED the only people I cared about...and who cares?! This...this is-!

[As Daria was being pulled away on the ground, bleeding in the ankle and dragging blood in the path, the people who embraced her vanished. Turning into rats and swarming Daria.]

The only friends and family you deserve are the rats we let visit you down in that basement!

Stop! No! Get off!

[Then she was dragged by the one ankle further and further into the darkness behind her, the environment of the house wilting away to the cold isolated basement of her family's estate. The cruel political powers be, choosing to hide their unwanted child away from the world. After all, they wouldn't like to be known as child murderers...Unlike their actual child would grow to do.]

ONCE UPON A DREAM PT: 2

[This dream was different. Daria was in a blank and empty white space, surrounded by purple miasma clouds. They weren't dangerous but to Daria...well. She was trapped. In a floating cube prison. It was just big enough for her to comfortably lay her legs down and her back rest comfortably upright.

To others, she looked imprisoned.

To Daria, she was in a safe and personal space. It was warm, keeping her away from the poisonous clouds. She felt safe in here. It started to feel familiar, this kind of safe. Her own world away from the dangers of the outside. She wasn't going anywhere.]

NIGHTMARISH CURSE

[Due to Daria's dreams, she was more isolated than normal. Cancelling every event she had previously, only leaving her lab and personal quarters when she absolutely had to. Like for class. But that was it, she completely closed herself off.

Screaming came from her main lab. A novice seemed to have caught this strange phenomenon, and Daria began examination of the body for clues. As much as she hated working for the breathing/talking, she found out that it kept her busy.]

Dreams I

[Someone is actually having a fairly positive dream, though the situation around it isn't exactly pleasant. But guests will find themselves in what seems to be a rather nice looking mixture of an inn/bar/and entertainment space. It seems that whoever owns this place is very much into making it look luxurious with chandeliers, low lights, and dark woods. Even the bar area of it seems to have bartenders that look very professional despite the kind of environment this is.

The stage itself is where all the action seems to be and where one will find a seemingly younger Lydia performing a particular routine. By the looks of the two poles one might have assumed it was a strip club of sorts. Which, well, sort of. Though anyone that watches for long enough will find out that this isn't that particular kind of performance.

But once it's complete she merely perches herself on the edge of the stage, seeming to beckon for people to come talk to her. Will you?]

Dreams II

[Unfortunate that she eventually ended up catching a nightmare, herself. Unlike the previously nice dream, this one starts in what seems to be the room of a dingy looking inn room. The scene itself has a strange feeling to it, a adult woman with long beautiful platinum blond hair in a low-cut baby blue dress sitting in a chair with a golden blond boy seemingly sleeping in her lap in dingy long brown pants and overly long black shirt while a girl that can't be more than maybe ten is standing in front of them, fists and jaw clenched and muscles tense with eyes screwed shut with what are clearly tears being forced or forced back. Her clothing is much the same as the boy's though clearly getting to a point of being too small on her given the tightness of the pants and the peek of skin between the pants and shirt.]

You let him die! [The girl manages to snarl out, voice filled with grief as the woman continues to pet the boy's hair.]

"He's merely sleeping, darling, why don't you go out and earn us some money for dinner, hm?" [The woman doesn't seem to be fussed remotely by this situation nor does she seem to agree. Though upon closer inspection it's clear that the boy is not breathing and while the woman and girl look pale, it's clear that his skin is from death.

The girl in turn seems to look like she's about to step closer, to reach out, to do something before taking a deep breath.]

I'm done being your meal and drink ticket while you mess around with men! He was sick and you let him die! I'm not doing it anymore! It's not like you cared about anyone other than yourself and I'm done! Fuck you! [Nor should those be words coming from what is still a child and she's quickly turning around and bolting for the door, the woman not seeming to follow in the slightest.]

"You'll be back, you can't survive out there on your own, you ungrateful brat!"

[That... sure is a scene. Do you follow the girl out the door or investigate the room some more?]

Wildcard

[While Lydia doesn't really participate or care about the sports outside, she's getting her own kind of exercise and taking the opportunity to try and distract her mind from things. Which is how some might find out about the room she's had set-up specifically for more acrobatic-esque things.

The room itself is mostly clear except for a few chairs along the edges of the room and the fireplace in the back to keep it warm. But there's all kinds of various things set-up from poles to silks to the aerial ring that Lydia's currently hanging upside down from and just seeming to chill about ten feet or so in the air. Her hair's tied back in a bun and her clothing is really just something akin to a sports bra and shorts.

Of course there can be other things in there if people want, but she has the double doors in the room wide open but at least the fire is keeping her warm.]

I. Around the castle

[ It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the young man first showed up in the castle halls. He hadn't been there for the Winter Sol and at first glance he could easily be mistaken for a novice. His features were youthful, didn't appear as if he had ever grown a beard, and while his long limbs promised height and breadth in full maturity he had only seemed to reach the height part of the equation.

Yes, it would be understandable to write him off as a out of cycle Foundling, or perhaps a white feather recipient; except. Even at a distance he moved with too much grace, and confidence to be either of these things.

Head up and chin held high, Lockwood strode through the halls as if to the manor born. Dressed in black breeches, a military style coat black with gold edging set atop a gold, silk double breasted waistcoat. A black sword belt was set around razor sharp snake hips, securing a rapier in a gold tooled scabbard that swung from his left side. Get close enough and it was impossible to miss the solid gold rim that circled brown eyes so dark as to be nearly naturally black. Vampirism made them all pale, but there might be a sense that this lad had always been pale, setting off his otherwise dark hair and dark eyes.

Lockwood always had a ready, if slightly superior, smile on his face and he gave a nod to anyone he passed, whether he recognized them or not. He was not Council, but he certainly gave off airs and when he spoke the deep timber and posh tones, if they were heard without seeing his face, might make one think they were speaking with a much older individual. ]

Allow me. [ He was not above holding a door, yet somehow his voice and his smile might come across as an order, rather than him doing one a favor.

He might also be found in one of the empty classrooms. Usually seated, and reading a copy of Lady Whisperfangs, his legs are almost always up on the desk. When seated, Lockwood is often sprawled like a proper adolescent, and anyone coming upon him might discover that beneath the tasteful, mature outfit the lad was wearing bright pink stockings. ]

II - Ice Hockey

[ When not strolling the halls of the castle, working in his classroom, or in the library catching up on back issues of Lady Whisperfangs, Lockwood made his way out to watch the hockey games.

No doubt he always cheered at the right moments, shouted the appropriate amount of trash talk towards the opposing team fans, and laughed with delight when blood went flying. But if anyone were to notice, they might notice that as often as not, Lockwood was as attentively people (vampire) watching as he was paying attention to the game.]

III. Sword Practice

[ Red Court were the blade masters, so it might count curious that Lockwood can often be found indulging in sword practice, usually in Red Court territory.

He wouldn't, couldn't go anywhere that was locked to Red Court vampires only, but practice fields that were unofficially considered Red Court territory? Lockwood invaded that space without any sign of regret.

Those who knew him, knew he did it to wind up Red Court youngbloods, as well as because Red Court had the best practice fields for sword work. Never let it be said that Lockwood didn't multitask his efforts at being a bit of a posh little shit, with genuine skill improvement!

As for Red Court novices. Most of the ~~NPC~~ novices watched the rapier made mince meat out of obliging thralls, and decided they had studies elsewhere. Oh don't look like that, the thralls weren't killed or even dismembered, but they would certainly be sporting some new scars when all was said and done. ]

OOC
[ I haven't had time to put up an AU-Workshop for Lockwood yet, but the gist would be he is a 50 year old youngblood in the body of a 19 year old. He's Gold Court, and splits his time between being out in the lands, honing the art of governing, and coming back to the castle to soak up all the gossip and teach a Season or two.

Any other youngbloods are welcome to assume they know him, have history with him. Just throw something at the wall and lets see what sticks, or if you'd like to discuss feel free to PM this journal or hit me up at

laekhund ]

A. Once Upon a Dream - Good Dream

Music fills the air. It's bright and cheerful and there is nothing but joy. Forest animals are swaying to the tune as they look in through the window. Snow White is in the center of the warmth and jovial song, clapping as seven men are playing instruments or singing a silly song. There is... a sense... a feeling that these men aren't human, that they are something older. Snow, as she sings and dances with them is younger in appearance.

The smile on her face is the brightest it has ever been, she feels safe and happy.

She feels loved for the first time.

As one of the older men sneezes so intensely that it causes the singing and dancing to end, admittedly, in a light-hearted way, the older Snow White, the one watching the whole scene, stands completely still as tears fall down her cheeks.

She turns to look at the person viewing this dream with her and she inhales, wiping her eyes.

"It's a lovely dream... it's just..."

It hasn't happened to her.

B. Once Upon a Dream - Nightmare [CW: Child abuse, attempted child murder, strangulation, extreme violence]

Oppulence.

Endless opulence. That's the first noticeable thing.

It's a gloriously opulent ballroom. Giant jet-black marble columns with white and gold swirling within support the vaulted ceiling. Giant gold chandeliers are brightly lit and whatever light they don't provide, the endless pure gold candelabrum handle instead.

Instead of the boisterous but joyful sounds of self-made instruments played with love but clumsy in a way, the small orchestra is practiced. Their notes are nearly surgical in their precision on their instruments. There are no stray or off notes. Everything is precise, everything is... perfect, but unattached. There is no passion as they play.

There is no laughter, just hushed conversations, the occasional chuckles, and oh yes... the astounding, overwhelming smell of blood.

Everyone is dressed as opulently as the ballroom itself, there are all sorts of Thralls being bitten, some so much they drop to the floor and they are merely stepped over as the vampires move on to speak with others. You may even recognize some of the vampires in attendance, some of them had been at the winter ball.

There, in the center of it all is a tall woman, clearly the owner of this home. Everything about her is striking, from the way she is covered in gold and jewels, to the gown that clings to every part of her frame in all the right ways. She is a stunning beauty. Her gold eyes survey the whole affair, quite pleased. Her face is a perfect mirror, not an ounce of emotion on display.

As her gaze peruses the ballroom, they turn towards the shadowed hallway where the Thralls who aren't being feasted upon go to gather more wine from the kitchen. There, deep in the darkness, peeking out from behind a pillar, dressed in rags was Snow White.

Snow White watched as the perfect cracked and deep, utter disgust filled her stepmother's eyes, her nostrils flared as the woman inhaled sharply.

Before Snow White could even blink her stepmother had her pinned by the neck up against the wall, squeezing as long nails bit into her neck.

"What did I tell you?" Grimhilde hissed as she held up Snow with only one hand. "What did I say?!" Grimhilde lifted Snow even higher off the ground. Snow's feet were dangling, the younger girl tried kicking to get herself free, for that, Grimhilde pulled Snow off the wall and then slammed her back against it, a harsh crack filling the air as the wall cracked beneath Snow's head. Snow couldn't even scream, trying to pry her stepmother's claw off her neck.

Her stepmother's mirror facade kept cracking, her hair becoming out of place, Snow White's blood starting to drip down her hand.

"I tried to give you a special death for one so fair, but for you, my dear" she practically spat the word, "Snow White, it is time to make sure you stay dead," her other claw slammed into Snow White's chest.

Even with her stepmother's claw around her throat, the pain was too severe not to scream. It ripped from her throat as she could feel her stepmother's fingers dig into her skin and start separating her ribs.

The world went black, the pain too much.

Snow White watched the whole thing with her hands clasped over her chest. There wasn't a single tear in her eye, but she turned as she sensed the presence beside her.

"When I woke up, a Blue Court vampire had killed her, and my Maker had healed me."

C. Winter Games

Snow White hasn't exactly had the opportunity to have fun in the winter in her life. Ice skating isn't something she's done before, and she doesn't want to control a Thrall either, even for curling. She was always a very good cheerleader, though. So, there she is, clapping and cheering for, well... everyone, actually.

"Oh! That was wonderful!" She had a stack of ceramic mugs and something akin to a milk jug. "Would you like some hot chocolate? The Thralls were kind enough to make it."

D. Wildcard
[OOC: Feel free to contact me at

snickersnack if you'd like to plot a different starter!]

once upon a dream

a.

[ it starts with a simple military scenario. instead of guiding students through their classes, erwin is leading soldiers through a battlefield. it's sure a sight: he's sat on a horse, riding like his life depends on it, shouting orders to well-trained scouts that move fluidly as one unit. it's a beautiful thing if you're into that kind of thing.

and maybe you're part of that unit, on horseback and right alongside him, because there's a point where he glances over and jerks his head to the side. ]

Hook left here.

b.

cws: violence, blood, gore, death, limb loss, cannibalism (?)

[ it's a great military exercise. it really is. until it starts to become apparent that the whole 'life depending on it' thing is 100% the well-known truth of whatever this dream is trying to convey. coming up to a densely wooded forest with a canopy almost too high to see (unnaturally high, really), a creature starts to appear from between the trees.

huge, lumbering, almost-human looking but not quite, twisted and a little (a lot) wrong. naked and sexless, it moves quickly despite its apparent clumsiness, and while the unit does its best, there's a point where a man is snatched right off his horse and eaten (nearly) whole. a single foot drops to the ground in the wake of the horror and erwin's on the offensive.

there's a device strapped to his hips connected to a series of blades, and he uses it like a pair of grappling hooks to attach to the thing's shoulder and swing himself up, blade in hand. it looks like he's aiming for the nape, but in one too-quick movement, the creature tangles the lines erwin's connected to it with and drags him around to the front and before erwin can cut himself free, a huge, fleshy mouth is closing around his arm and with a sickening crunch audible even over the shouts of the soldiers below, the whole thing is severed right off.

to his credit, he braces his feet against the thing's closed teeth and uses the leverage to use his remaining arm to give the lines more and more slack until he's near enough to the ground that he can sever them. ]

Keep going!

[ shockingly, there's not even a waver to his voice despite the clear agony he must be in. ]

a nightmarish curse

[ erwin's been tending to the screaming victims of the curse for hours now and it's apparent in the tiredness of his eyes. he wants to be working on a cure, but triage has become so immediately apparent that he's more focused on keeping people from outright dying while they wait for a cure.

currently, he's standing over a novice who's bleeding out where they lay, but erwin bites into his own wrist and shoves the bleeding wound over their open mouth to drip his blood inside.

it's not a cure, but it's a stopgap that'll keep them from dying.

for a while. ]

Threaded | Flat

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