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ph_logs2024-06-20 07:14 pm
cult_classic) wrote in ph_logs2024-06-20 07:14 pm
[Plot Open] Seeing Red
Who: The Cult of Nyarlathotep and YOU????????? (Intended for a somewhat small group.)
What: Weird magic
When: It's complicated
Where: The cabins in the woods
Warning(s): Cult activity, religious ecstasy, ritual sacrifice, blood, unhealthy and probably uncomfortable opinions about madness. Your character will also die by going on this quest, but you will receive unique plot information. And who knows, maybe you can have like a ghost party or whatever.
-I don't need your roses, I like men on their knees.-
It's not long after Tarantulas and Valdis find Linette and her body is laid to rest that further investigation begins. The information forwarded to them about the cult is, of course, useful. But with the knowledge that a strange cult was performing monstrous rituals is deeply alarming.
Information is spread like wildfire, the paper running an article describing the grisly scene of Linette Brenning, a woman who went missing years ago, turning up at the bottom of the Fall's Promise well. The cult involvement and the ties it must surely have to the barrier and to the cursed book retrieved by River and Angel some months prior. The constables fan out across the island, investigating the cabins in the woods and the well in which Linette was found.
But even so, nothing of note turns up.
Until one day, an assortment of offworlders seemingly chosen at random receive a note in their mailboxes. It's written in a tight, curling hand that is unfamiliar.
Perhaps not everyone who receives this letter attends, but if you wish to see more, you must be one of them. And so you go. You gather among friends, or perhaps strangers, but ultimately those like you. And from there you proceed into the woods, following first the trails, then the desire path leading to the sodden and rotting old cabins where Linette's locket was first found nearly a year ago. Per the letter's instructions, you go to the furthest cabin from the road, and you enter.
-Praying up to their god, seeing visions of me.-
After much clearing away of natures attempts at reclamation of the building, the words are visible on the wall, etched in a thick white paint that almost glows in the lantern light. Do you raise your voices in unison to speak the incantation, or is it left to just one brave soul? Regardless, the words are spoken:
We are the seekers of forbidden knowledge. We are the witnesses of the vile divine. We are the wanderers of the black dream desert, navigators of starless skies. We beseech you, O Chaos; we stand in your circle and ask in reverence to behold your revelations of bygone days. Grant us your unholy nightmare that we may see. Ia! Nyarlathotep! Eater of Souls! Let your truth be thusly seen!
And once the words are spoken, the world begins to change.
The sensation, for those who can recall, is not unlike wandering the collective dream of Pumpkin Hollow in years gone by, but this time you have arrived here by choice rather than by sleep. The cabin around you dissolves like sand, falling away in particles to reveal... something else.
You find yourselves back outside, still under the cover of night. Each of you is now garbed in a red robe and a black mask, and you are surrounded by others wearing similar garb. The world around you is nearly silent. You are standing just inside what is a manor house, elegantly decorated, somberly making your way into the depths of the house with the rest of the group. You are led into what is apparently some sort of meeting space with a large, round table with a tasteful assortment of charcuterie foods laid out. No one says a word as you enter, but some members of the group seem confident as they file into place around the table and take a seat. You should probably do the same.
Far off in the distance, you hear the clock strike 2AM. One of the members of the group, apparently the de facto leader, speaks as soon as the third chime silences. Based on the voice, you presume this person to likely be a woman.
"Bare now your true faces and forfeit your names to your brethren and to our Dark King."
And so they do. Each of them doffs their mask and lowers their hood, revealing their faces. All ages and all sorts, it seems. They go around the circle, speaking their names, starting with the woman in charge.
"Chloe Albright."
"Ingmar Strömberg."
"Nora Winterbottom."
"Christopher Larkin."
"Archie Brenning."
"Maude Brenning."
"Brahm Aberdeen.
"Richard Pirnach."
"Lucy Calloway."
Before you have time to take in these names, it is clear from the expectant glances that all of you are meant to introduce yourselves as well. But once this is done, the woman whose name is Chloe speaks once more.
"Thank you all for your offering of identity. And thank you, Christopher, for once again allowing us to take our meeting within your lovely home. And of course, we thank all of our intrepid new inductees for joining us tonight. We appreciate that the lateness of the hour will take some... adjustment. As we await the blessing of our Master in his hour of greatest strength, that we might perform our ritual to bear witness to the vile divine, let us take a simple meal together in fellowship. Both to know each other and to speak of more mundane business, as well as to educate our new siblings. Shall we, brothers and sisters?"
All at once, your true mission becomes clear. Speak to the members of this cult, learn more about their identities, rituals, and crimes, and bear witness to this so-called "vile divine", then return to your own time with the information you receive. It's unclear how you'll get back, at the moment... but surely it will make itself apparent when the time comes. Hopefully.
-Say I'm your favorite preacher.-
[The thrilling conclusion to the cult gathering will appear in the comments over the weekend! For now, focus on talking to the cult members, or to each other. Maybe you can even sneak away to look through the house!]
What: Weird magic
When: It's complicated
Where: The cabins in the woods
Warning(s): Cult activity, religious ecstasy, ritual sacrifice, blood, unhealthy and probably uncomfortable opinions about madness. Your character will also die by going on this quest, but you will receive unique plot information. And who knows, maybe you can have like a ghost party or whatever.
-I don't need your roses, I like men on their knees.-
It's not long after Tarantulas and Valdis find Linette and her body is laid to rest that further investigation begins. The information forwarded to them about the cult is, of course, useful. But with the knowledge that a strange cult was performing monstrous rituals is deeply alarming.
Information is spread like wildfire, the paper running an article describing the grisly scene of Linette Brenning, a woman who went missing years ago, turning up at the bottom of the Fall's Promise well. The cult involvement and the ties it must surely have to the barrier and to the cursed book retrieved by River and Angel some months prior. The constables fan out across the island, investigating the cabins in the woods and the well in which Linette was found.
But even so, nothing of note turns up.
Until one day, an assortment of offworlders seemingly chosen at random receive a note in their mailboxes. It's written in a tight, curling hand that is unfamiliar.
Gather in the square tonight at midnight. More friends will be there. But bring a lantern anyway, and do not be late. Once midnight strikes, go to the cabins off the path in Lockwood Forest and speak the words upon the wall of the furthest. If you can be brave, you will see the unobstructed truth.
Perhaps not everyone who receives this letter attends, but if you wish to see more, you must be one of them. And so you go. You gather among friends, or perhaps strangers, but ultimately those like you. And from there you proceed into the woods, following first the trails, then the desire path leading to the sodden and rotting old cabins where Linette's locket was first found nearly a year ago. Per the letter's instructions, you go to the furthest cabin from the road, and you enter.
-Praying up to their god, seeing visions of me.-
After much clearing away of natures attempts at reclamation of the building, the words are visible on the wall, etched in a thick white paint that almost glows in the lantern light. Do you raise your voices in unison to speak the incantation, or is it left to just one brave soul? Regardless, the words are spoken:
And once the words are spoken, the world begins to change.
The sensation, for those who can recall, is not unlike wandering the collective dream of Pumpkin Hollow in years gone by, but this time you have arrived here by choice rather than by sleep. The cabin around you dissolves like sand, falling away in particles to reveal... something else.
You find yourselves back outside, still under the cover of night. Each of you is now garbed in a red robe and a black mask, and you are surrounded by others wearing similar garb. The world around you is nearly silent. You are standing just inside what is a manor house, elegantly decorated, somberly making your way into the depths of the house with the rest of the group. You are led into what is apparently some sort of meeting space with a large, round table with a tasteful assortment of charcuterie foods laid out. No one says a word as you enter, but some members of the group seem confident as they file into place around the table and take a seat. You should probably do the same.
Far off in the distance, you hear the clock strike 2AM. One of the members of the group, apparently the de facto leader, speaks as soon as the third chime silences. Based on the voice, you presume this person to likely be a woman.
"Bare now your true faces and forfeit your names to your brethren and to our Dark King."
And so they do. Each of them doffs their mask and lowers their hood, revealing their faces. All ages and all sorts, it seems. They go around the circle, speaking their names, starting with the woman in charge.
"Chloe Albright."
"Ingmar Strömberg."
"Nora Winterbottom."
"Christopher Larkin."
"Archie Brenning."
"Maude Brenning."
"Brahm Aberdeen.
"Richard Pirnach."
"Lucy Calloway."
Before you have time to take in these names, it is clear from the expectant glances that all of you are meant to introduce yourselves as well. But once this is done, the woman whose name is Chloe speaks once more.
"Thank you all for your offering of identity. And thank you, Christopher, for once again allowing us to take our meeting within your lovely home. And of course, we thank all of our intrepid new inductees for joining us tonight. We appreciate that the lateness of the hour will take some... adjustment. As we await the blessing of our Master in his hour of greatest strength, that we might perform our ritual to bear witness to the vile divine, let us take a simple meal together in fellowship. Both to know each other and to speak of more mundane business, as well as to educate our new siblings. Shall we, brothers and sisters?"
All at once, your true mission becomes clear. Speak to the members of this cult, learn more about their identities, rituals, and crimes, and bear witness to this so-called "vile divine", then return to your own time with the information you receive. It's unclear how you'll get back, at the moment... but surely it will make itself apparent when the time comes. Hopefully.
-Say I'm your favorite preacher.-
[The thrilling conclusion to the cult gathering will appear in the comments over the weekend! For now, focus on talking to the cult members, or to each other. Maybe you can even sneak away to look through the house!]
no subject
He gapes for a little longer before he clears his throat and smooths out his robes. It’s not as if Imbros is particularly frightening—a bit hard to be, when Fuelweaver is his close friend—but it’s certainly unexpected. But, but, he’s just as clueless as Mulcahy. That much he’s gathered. He’s a stranger to the world, like him. A ferry-folk.
“It’s certainly more experience than I have,” he admits. “I’m a man of faith, but this is… very far from our usual rites. Any point of reference is a helpful one.”
no subject
"You would do well to hide that fact."
There's nothing religious fanatics like better than destroying important members of other religions.
no subject
This much, at least, tells him that Imbros is almost certainly not one of the cultists. (He'll always leave room for being proved wrong. In which case, he'll have already signed his death warrant. Oh well.)
"I do plan on acquainting myself better with Larkin's lovely estate, if you'll accompany me."
no subject
He gestures to lead the way before folding his hands behind his back and floating along beside his new exploration buddy. "Do you know much about our hosts? All the names are familiar but none of the faces."
no subject
"I've only been a resident for so long, and I've been... a bit sequestered in my affairs, if I'm being honest. I recognize very few of the names, except Winterbottom, which is the surname of the town's only local physician, who is retiring. And Calloway, the surname of the curio merchant."
His head tilts. "I spoke with his wife, Lucy. Apparently she was quite important in allowing him to acquire his strange wares. More on that afterwards, though."
no subject
"Are they all locals then? Oh that's even more curious." All but confirming that he's not one of them. "The vile divine... Something to do with the barrier perhaps? What's keeping them in here? Or ... maybe what's not allowing them to die."
Idle speculation because he has no idea.
There's a door partially closed and Imbros raises a hand to telekinetically open it, then thinks better of it, "They probably have alarms to alert them if any magic is done in their residence, that's fairly common in my realm and will probably be the same here I should think."
no subject
"That's very good to keep in mind. I have the opposite but similar experience; I'm used to technology listening and recording in hidden places."
And he isn't sure why he's saying this when he'd been so reluctant before, hiding inside of himself, but maybe it's this stranger's confidence reflecting back on him. Imbros is clearly from the ferry, and clearly better-versed in investigations into strange magic matters like this. Mulcahy has been adrift with fantastical company for a long time, but he still comes from a world where the existence of magic is a question.
"But this island isn't as advanced in that sort of thing, compared to where I'm from. Thankfully." A sigh. He approaches the door carefully, brushing his hand lightly over the surfaces; puts his ear to the frame and raps on it lightly, then the same to the door itself, but it all seems like solid wood. Not hollow, likely no crevices. Carefully, he eases it open.
no subject
And those people invited them here, so really they only have themselves to blame if their visitors go roaming around the house. They should have invested in better security.
...or locks.
"It's a little suspicious that just opened like that..." But that certainly doesn't stop him from peering over Mulcahy's shoulder as the door swings open. Beyond them is clearly an office; adorned with a fabric uphostered chair, a desk, book shelves, and tasteful decor used as bookends. No one springs out at them, no alarms sound, and after a moment of tension he gently pushes the door a little further and steps fully into the room.
"Who's house was this again? Christopher..." He searches his memory for the last name that went with that during the introductions. "Larkin. Hm. Not familiar to me."
Immediately drawn to the books he steps over to the bookshelf and runs his fingers over the spines, noting the titles. "There might be ledgers or documents of importance somewhere in here."
no subject
Looking at the dates, the names, the content... "It seems like he was the previous mayor. I've never heard an unkind word against the man before now. It seems he was quite the actor." It leaves a sour taste in his mouth.
He's still ruminating on this when he ventures towards a discreet cabinet in one end of the office. He tugs on the door. He almost thinks it's locked, but--ah, no, it's only jammed. It comes loose with a firm enough tug.
"... Oh, my."
That's a lot of whiskey and wine.
no subject
Imbros goes to sit down at the desk and take a second look at what Mulcahy has rifled through. But he's never experienced a rolling office chair before and as he sits down the whole thing slides under him, sending him nearly crashing into the wall until he grabs onto the desk to stop it. Like a cat that fell off a table he immediately stands up acting completely nonchalant like he meant to do that and comes over to see what the priest is looking at.
Nothing happened. Nothing to see here.
"That explains a lot about how he was acting out there." He surreptitiously smooths out his robes, he's fine, everything is fine. "Maybe everyone assumed anything he said were the ramblings of a drunkard."
no subject
"I've been around enough drunkards to suspect as much. Considering his reputation, either he was normally quite good at hiding the habit or today is his birthday."
He is definitely inspecting the dates on these bottles and the inscriptions on the flasks. Nothing unusual that he can see, except that these would have each cost a fortune back home. Larkin has quite a taste for finery.
"Out of curiosity, do you ever drink? Do you have the ability to?"
no subject
"What of this place? Have you seen this building before? The area where Yorick took me to meet the current mayor on my arrival certainly didn't look like this." He starts poking through the shelves again, keeping away from the desk while his pride recovers.
"I cannot. And having seen those who are drunk I'm not sure why I'd want to. It quite frankly looks rather miserable. Especially the next day."