childrenofbahamutlogs | EVENT #1: FAE FESTIVITIES

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EVENT #1: FAE FESTIVITIES

INTO THE WOODS

Click Clock Wood (Spring) by Grant Kirkhope

2:05 / 4:59

▶︎

Click here to listen.

Grant Kirkhope is a Scottish composer and voice actor for video games and film. Some of his notable works include GoldenEye 007, Banjo-Kazooie, Donkey Kong 64, and Perfect Dark, among many others.

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After making your way through the tiny farming town of Ich and out towards the rim of a massive raised crater, you will find yourself being led through a narrow split in the canyon wall. Inside, glow worms cling to the ceiling and create the illusion of a thousand twinkling stars above the moistened rocks.

When you finally emerge, it is into an impossibly lush landscape of massive, redwood-sized tangling trees and a soft moss carpet. Life abounds here. It feels like an oasis of birdsong and animal activity.

A short walk leads you to the prepared party-grounds. A large clearing with quaint huts all around decorated with strange flowers for partygoers to rest or otherwise entertain themselves.

There appear to be several games and stalls set up, the sweet and savory scents of delicious food fills the air, and so do the patrons of the forest. Seemingly hundreds of Fae folk zip around and greet the newcomers excitedly by placing garlands of vines and crowns of flowers atop their heads.

Glowing flowers and toadstools light your way here. It also seems that even the animals get in on the festivities! Really, just about everything talks here. Almost everything, anyways! Talking to a tree stump might not yield many results but you're welcome to try.

Each entrant is also provided upon arrival a copy of The Rules. A rolled parchment that resists water or any other damage. It also prevents you from writing on it so you can't just do what you want.

The rules read as follows:

DO:

ONLY

DO NOT:

TRADE

OTHER ITEMS TO NOTE:

old woman

GAMES & ENTERTAINMENT

Amongst the games and attractions are a variety of fun possibilities!

GAMES

Battleship! (Fae Style!)

a cup of nectar that refills endlessly, and numbs any pains you may have.

curse

dissipate after a time

Dress Up Darlings!

how

Bobbing For Onions!

Bag of Onions

What's In The Box?

ENTERTAINMENT

Slayd & The Possums!

play

The Crowning of the King of Misrule!

a lottery

King of Misrule

Special Gift

FOR THE FOOLISH

Ahh, but there are rule breakers amongst us aren't there? If you choose to sneak away from the party, chances are nobody will stop you; however, you are now on your own in the Talahee Forest.

FIRST LAYER

Rak'tika Greatwood Theme ( Civilizations ) by Masayoshi Soken

4:34 / 5:15

▶︎

Click here to listen.

"Civilizations" prominently features a female vocalist. The lyrics are in the Ronkan language, and has not been officially translated.

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The first layer of the forest is very much similar to what you have already seen. Everything is coated in a thick mat of moss and trees wind away like a massive birds nest to form the canopy above. The faint sounds of animals can still be heard. Up here, you may encounter Fae who did not attend the party. They'll ask you your name and other personal details.

Best that you lie.

SECOND LAYER

Click Clock Wood (Autumn) by Grant Kirkhope

1:12 / 4:11

▶︎

Click here to listen.

Grant Kirkhope is a Scottish composer and voice actor for video games and film. Some of his notable works include GoldenEye 007, Banjo-Kazooie, Donkey Kong 64, and Perfect Dark, among many others.

code

The further in that you head, the darker the forest gets. It seems you are following a downward slope. The trees get bigger here, as do the insects and toadstools. Bioluminescence rules down here it seems. You may encounter stranger creatures here. Ones that will try to make very tempting trades for your personal belongings. Things that will seem like an amazing deal to you. They offer magical items of great power, or even personal effects from home.

Don't be fooled though. These objects are cursed, and are not at all what they seem. You have the distinct feeling of being watched at all times here.

⁂ Possible Encounters: Owlbear, Displacer Beast, Giant Badger

THIRD LAYER

Saint Mocianne's Arboretum (Hard) by Masayoshi Soken

2:50 / 5:10

▶︎

Click here to listen.

...hordes of aggressive plant life exposed to the strange substance stand between you and the information you seek.

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Are you getting smaller or is everything else getting bigger? Were Slayd here, he would have told you about the concept of Deep Forest Gigantism. The deeper you go - just like the ocean - the larger that the flora and fauna get.

You are dwarfed by the mushrooms here in the pitch darkness and only guided by the latent glow of the creatures and fungi that dwell here. Bugs the size of house-cats skitter in your wake. Are you sure you want to be here? Should you encounter anything larger, you’d best stay silent. Or run!

⁂ Possible Encounters: Giant predatory Elk (RUN), Rodents of Unusual Size, Extra Large Bugs

FOURTH LAYER

Poison Tree by Grouper

0:30 / 3:16

▶︎

Click here to listen.

'Poison Tree' is a meditation on the complexities of anger and the internal conflict it causes. It draws inspiration from William Blake's poem of the same name.

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The trees seem to clear out here as you reach the bottom of the forest. There is no light here so hope you brought a match. The landscape down here is a blanket of moss dotted with countless shallow pools. Looking into one of these pools, you will see your reflection... though it may look different in some way.

You will feel extremely compelled to reach down and touch the reflection in the water. Should you give in, you feel as though your world is turning upside down. You could receive memories not quite your own. Memories of a different version of you, even! (CRAU, Canon Update, or Canon AU!)

Yet, you will be experiencing them as your own. A long time could pass in your mind while only seconds have only elapsed in reality. Upon waking, you will find that you have been ejected from the party and the forest entirely. You find yourself at the entrance to the crater. Disoriented, and compelled not to re-enter, you have only yourself to blame as you must shamble your way home with this burdensome knowledge.

Notes

⁂ For the game prizes, we're using the honor system here! So long as you clear the roll then you can receive a prize with no mod permission needed.

Battleship

above a 13

Bobbing For Onions

above a 10

⁂ To sign up for The Crowning of the King of Misrule, comment here! We'll RNG the winner likely within a few days to a week to give folks time to participate if they want!

⁂ The plotting post for this event/November is up!

⁂ Additionally, we have a state of the game post available to people read about updates, clarifications, and a poll to participate in!

⁂ If you have any further questions or feedback about this event specifically, please comment here!

⁂ Full Navigation ⁂

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"You speak as if anything terrible has happened, my dear friend." There's some note of exasperation to his voice, all mixed into the hazy slurry of his words. How can Ignis be upset at a time like this? When Ravus feels amazing. Sure the world hasn't stopped that obnoxious tilt, but it's growing on him! Ignis still looks beautiful, even at an angle, after all.

Yet under the paradoxical feeling of both the floaty euphoria, and the heavy dragging of the inebriation, there's something else. A pang of guilt that gnaws at his heart, seeing that Ignis is still so worried. Why? Wait... he'd been upset before.

"Ignis," Ravus breathes his name with equal worry, and can't keep himself from all the small, anxious touches. Petting at his hands, his arms, like he can find just the right spot to ground the other man if he only keeps trying. "You've not brought about anything so worrisome. Why were you upset with me? Why are you upset with yourself? Please, it hurts my heart to see such trepidation in you. It does not suit how noble and bold you rightly are."

Really. His training never quite prepared him for the experience of dealing with someone so absolutely high off his tits. Or, rather, while he understands all the physical sorts of effects that he should be keeping an eye on so long as this doesn't become dangerous, other things are a little bit of a surprise.

Like... The constant petting. The way Ravus so tenderly caresses his arms, and the gentle stroke of his fingers against the back of Ignis's hand as they follow the outpress of his bones even pass leathery scales.

Ignis carefully breathes in through his nose. Funnily enough, the petting is weirdly calming. He chalks it up to physical contact being grounding no matter whatever bizarre situation one may find themselves in. "Ravus, I have just forced you to inhale some manner of foreign gas," he explains patiently. "We have no idea what it will do to you, in the long or short term. So you have to tell me if you being to feel something different, or new."

As for the other question... Another sigh, and he just looks over the ridiculous man sitting next to him. With how intoxicated he is, there really is no point in explaining it to him. If he's lucky, it will go in one ear and out the other. If he is unlucky, which Ignis is starting to suspect, then he will take it rather badly and possibly even remember it when he gets sober again.

He... truly doesn't want to do that to him.

"I feel you did something reckless and foolhardy, even if Slayd was there to help you. I don't want you tied so to.... someone unknown."

What he means is the fucking fae, Ravus.

The patient walking-through eventually leads his addled brain to some semblance of a conclusion, and Ravus nods as if he understands. He does. The mechanics of it, anyway. Why it upsets Ignis is still beyond him. Far worse things have been done to him before. Worse pains, and worse theft of his autonomy. Feeling dizzy and giddy is actually pleasant in comparison. Besides, Ravus has never truly worried whatever his body has been made to endure. He will simply persist. That is the way of it. He's too stubborn for anything less.

"I am a bit reckless," Ravus admits. But only a bit, he insists. That's not what troubles him about Ignis' explanation, though, and he moves past the little details. The hand that has been petting Ignis' suddenly grabs his wrist, and clutches a bit too tightly. He'll apologize later, right now, he feels Ignis needs to understand the gravity of what he's said.

"But I must be bound to someone to have purpose. It is my duty. It is who I am, and what makes me press ever forward. I cannot be weak, and if this world would strip me of my strength, then I must have it back at whatever cost. To protect those I care for. To protect those who care for me, too. To protect you."

If nothing else, it seems as though some measure of understanding is making its way into Ravus's ridiculous and inebriated brain. That's all Ignis can ask of him right now: to understand that breathing in an unknown substance is very bad and could be disastrous. Unfortunately, he highly suspects that Ravus will not tell him if anything changes. He'll have to keep an eye out on that himself.

Even if he... makes it a touch difficult, the way his immense strength can be felt in every little finger as it tightens - a vice - around Ignis's wrist. He narrows his eyes a touch before leaning in close, pushing forward against that grip.

"Then you should have spoken with me. I would have given you purpose, something to soothe over the hole! I would have gladly helped you work around your weakening arm so that you could have protected all that you want to protect!" And he thinks, really, that Ravus is just speaking you in general. Perhaps Ignis, but likely any of them who are still here for him to care about.

Blasted idiot cares about Ardyn for some reason that Ignis half suspects is a concussion to the head, he's not taking this seriously.

"Why would you not have let all of us help, rather than go to someone so unknown?"

Ravus stares in utter awe. Which, with his pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed, he probably looks more akin to a school boy suddenly being accosted by his crush. Which isn't terribly far off, actually.

He blinks. Oh. Oh, Ignis looks so perfect like this - all fired up and leaning in so close. If it takes him a long moment to speak, it's because he has to swallow down his thundering heart, and try to rearrange his brain after Ignis has so thoroughly scrambled it.

The silver only succeeds to some degree, but he finally realized how tight his hold is, and immediately gentles it. Not that he lets go just yet, but that he smoothes the flat of his thumb over Ignis' pulse.

"I... I worried you would think less of me," he admits, voice low and cowed into shame once the awe subsides. Normally, he might try to hide that, but he can't think straight, and everything comes pouring out. He's all the grace of a mug tipped on its side for how well he holds back.

"A shield can't ask its bearer for shelter. And a sword can't beg to be sharpened. If they are not worth their weight..." Ravus sighs and gestures defeatedly with his other hand. He's sure if he was in his right mind, the words would come easier. But they don't. He flounders for anything, but ends up shaking his head. A mistake, the tilted axis of the world suddenly shifts and he nearly lurches into Ignis. He catches himself on the other man's shoulder, and feels a little more pathetic with every growing moment. The dizzying high is starting to feel more like the distant buzz of a growing migraine. Which may be more inline with the actual intent of the poison, he thinks.

"Can you forgive me?"

Honestly, he should wait until Ravus is in a slightly better state of mind to answer these questions. Look at the poor fool - all wide eyed and probably barely able to take in what Ignis is saying. That's the look of a man being flirted with, for goodness's sake.

At least his grip eases up... although maybe that is a bad thing, as he suddenly lurches forward. Ignis's hand drops quickly from his mouth, bracing against Ravus's shoulder.

"Ah - careful, now, you silly thing," he scolds lightly, no true bite to it. It's a relief that the words are not accompanied by the shifting green of gas. "Yes, I suppose I will forgive you... but only if you promise not to make any more deals such as this. We shall provide you with all you need, if you merely ask for it."

Ravus will probably forget this entire conversation, but oh well.

Forget this? When he looks at Ignis with the gleam of awe and adoration in those mismatched eyes? When Ignis agrees to forgive him for his mistakes? Rewrites the chemical balance in his brain with a mix of promise and poison? No, no Ravus will not be forgetting this. He's branding it onto his brain like a hot iron.

"Then I am full glad to take purpose from, and serve, you and yours," he says, managing to keep the sway in his voice minimal. At least, for the first sentence or so. Because he's immediately distracted by the fact Ignis has brought his hand down from his face. And oh, isn't he lovely in this light? Yes, utterly enchanting...

"I promise." Mumbled, a touch more slurred the longer he's distracted. Until the silver rumbles a thinly veiled, indignant sound. So near, he leans his forehead against Ignis', fingers finding themselves curled into the fabric of his shirt near the junction of his neck and shoulder, to keep steady. "And I'm not silly."

Honestly... If he didn't know better, then Ravus's - everything in this moment might give his heart cause to flutter. The shining adoration in his gaze as though Ignis is a herald of the divine bespeaking some sort of prophecy, his absolutely knight-like declarations to him in a way that could truly be so easy to abuse...

The only thing that would make this all the more difficult to deal with is if Ravus were on his knees for him, really.

That would require calling Gladio over, he thinks.

Then again... Ravus slipping forward, pressing their foreheads together, breath intermingling, is a trouble all its own. Ignis is fairly certain it's because of being drugged. "Oh, you are quite silly, on account of being intoxicated, at the very least," Ignis says dryly, trying to nudge this ridiculously top-heavy man upright a little more. For his own heart, certainly, if nothing else. "Now, since you've properly promised, let us get you somewhere out of the way. I think the party is quite done for you."

Ravus makes a low, whiny noise that's probably a continued protest to being called silly. He is not silly at all, thank you very much. And he's only a little intoxicated, he swears! The little flickers of pure clarity keep convincing him of it. The fact so much of it is surrounded by haze, and slight headache, and feelings he's no name for don't seem to factor into his consideration.

At least when he's nudged, he takes the cue. It's difficult to find his balance, but he uses Ignis' shoulder to keep himself anchored, and manages to stand. Naturally, he's a gentleman that helps Ignis to his feet as well. While his claws are gentle in that he's sure not to curl the points in, keeping his strength under control proves more difficult for his impaired motor-skills. Assisting Ignis may be a bit more like lifting him.

"Apologies," he rumbles, claws skating carefully down from Ignis' shoulder to his side, looking to ever-so gently find his wrist again. There's no small measure of guilt for overusing his strength more than once tonight. He just wants to make sure he hasn't left bruises-

Except, somehow, his magitek hand presses past Ignis', behind him. Ravus could almost swear he hears a chiming little laugh from somewhere, but it's certainly not his dragon.

The next moment, before he even has the chance to consider his own impending doom, Ravus' claws quite suddenly grab a meaty handful of Ignis' ass. And squeeze.

The giggling in his brain turns to raucous peals of laughter. Except to Ravus even that is drowned out by the sudden panicking tempo of his heart kicking up. He's frozen in place, gawking with a dumbstruck expression that rapidly devolves into horror.

What in all the hells is happening?

Well, what he'd really planned on doing was getting up first so that he could help Ravus onto his feet, but it is what it is if he rises first. And... suddenly reaches down to haul Ignis upwards as though he were a small bag of groceries, grip on his body quite firm.

Ignis blinks a few times, hand along Ravus's flesh bicep simply to reorient himself. "I could have gotten to my feet, yes, but still, I do appreciate the sentiment-"

It's Ravus. He's not wholly sure Ravus knows what the act of sexual self-care entails, so to speak. So he's not thinking too hard initially when that hand skims down his side and then back around. Initially, Ignis even thinks that he's simply trying to reach around him in order to lean, intoxicated as he is.

And then his ass is squeezed.

A normal person might simply jolt, or be shocked into a freeze themselves. Ignis has not been normal for a very long time. So his first reaction, towards a rather intimate and public act towards himself...

Is to grab the offending arm with both his own hands and twist himself beneath its reach while his foot kicks out rather violently to Ravus's knee in order to bring him down onto it. Ignis pauses in place, still holding onto Ravus's arm while forcing it into an uncomfortable angle, before he frowns somewhat severely.

"Really now, Ravus. I hadn't thought that you would be either a terribly clumsy or lecherous sort of drunk."

Thul snarls in his mind loud enough to feel like it's physically reverberating in his skull. Ravus can't help the wince that accompanies both the teeth-rattling growl of a dragon between his ears, and the kick that briefly bends back his knee. At least the physical pain is a more familiar aspect, and he exhales sharply between his clenched teeth as he goes down. While clearly Ignis is not pleased, Thul is even less so. At Ravus? Or at the giggling fae that darts out to alight on a nearby stump? It's hard to say. But Ravus' gaze is forward, instead of on Ignis, despite everything.

"Oh, my poor knotweed! Or should I call ye a tumbleweed now with that little fall?" Sorcha practically falls off their perch laughing at their own joke, and maybe the look of dismay Ravus wears too. Which, he then promptly turns to Ignis, as if he's only just now registered what he's said.

"No! I would never-" Ravus tries to protest. "It was-" and he looks back to where his patron is kicking their feet with childish whimsy. That should say it all, right? Clearly the mocking fae will be clear as day, obviously the culprit of this terrible prank. And yet Sorcha doesn't seem to altogether care in acknowledging Ignis at all. Almost like, to them, he's no factor in this conversation. As if Ignis simply couldn't hear or see any part of this. Dismay flicks to dawning horror, and Sorcha is sent into another fit of giggles.

"Sorry, dearie! Only my saplings can see the magnificence that is Sorcha Bláthnaid. This is our pact, not his, remember?"

Ravus tries to twist around as much as he can, for as unsteady as he is, and with his arm wrenched back.

"Ignis, you must believe me: this is fae trickery." Which could sound convincing, if only it wasn't slurred, and Ravus' gaze didn't keep darting to-and-fro from some invisible object and then back to Ignis with a mix akin to confusion and ire.

Perhaps for another person, they would be hesitant to believe Ravus's words. A lot is factored against him, after all... Or, rather, it is one major factor in that he inhaled a mysterious substance with unknown effects which could explain both intoxicated behaviors and hallucinating. If this were their own world, then Ignis would certainly put stock in that first and foremost.

Yet... Even with Ravus's eyes darting around, Ignis is already slowly letting down his arm so that it is not wrenched back so uncomfortably. A drunk accident isn't enough reason to really punish the poor man, after all.

Just... a surprised response.

He is far more carefully measured as he knees down besides Ravus, frowning a touch as he looks into his face. Indeed, in their world, he would simply assume him on some manner of drug. Here, however?

"...Well then. I hope you know what I have to say to that." I told you so about the damn fae pact. That is all Ignis will say on that, however, sighing as he reaches over to gently pat Ravus's poor shoulder. He'd even go far as to massage it, but he's worried he would do more harm than good with his claws. "Ravus, can you focus on me for a moment? I will help get you back to your feet."

While quite firmly holding onto that arm to make sure it doesn't get any other ideas, of course.

...And if it really still is the intoxication, then it's still a good plan of action.

With all the graceless countenance of a drunken, kicked dog, Ravus pouts at him about that line. The 'I told you so' is clear, but Ravus makes a low, guilty sound anyway.

"I am aware, yes," he says with a sullen timbre, and tries to ignore the way his patron giggles from just over Ignis' shoulder. Still... Ignis doesn't seem anywhere near as furious as Ravus expects. There's a measure of grace given, and Ravus can't bear to squander it, even with the world spinning, and shame burning the back of his throat. So he tries his hardest to do as he's asked, and desperately tries to keep his swimming vision from wandering away from those beautiful forest-green eyes.

"Smitten as a robin in spring, arenae ye?"

The fact Ravus manages not to snarl, but to stay on task, might prove that statement more than he'd like to admit. Ignis has asked him of something. It will be done. It's as simple as that in his mind. The most clear thought he's had so far.

"My work here is done then! I'll be seeing you again soon, precious sapling!" And when the fae winks out of existence, Ravus lets the tension out of his muscles where Ignis' hand lays. Thankfully, the magitek arm doesn't budge again without his input.

Normally, that would be all. He'd pick himself up with or without assitance, and crush down any emotion that might be misconstrued as weakness or doubt. But against his better judgement, and with the not-quite-courage provided by not being able to overthink, Ravus glances down briefly to his arm, where the flowers have wilted some with his mood. Then his focus comes back to Ignis again.

"You... you know I am not like that, don't you?"

"If you mean lascivious, I do," Ignis says, and takes care not to mention that he has seen some version of Ravus in far more compromising positions. However, in that case, it was also due to outside stimuli, and he won't hold that against the man. The simulation was built to incur such feelings in people one way or the other; Ravus simply stumbled into things at an awkward time.

At least this instance hasn't left him inhaling an aphrodisiac, and Ignis makes sure he's steady before taking his hand to pull him along. "However, sometimes an intoxicant can play with your mind... or certainly make you clumsy, at the very least."

And that's before any possibility of fae nonsense.

"Now then. I am going to take you into a small room to the side, Ravus, where you are to rest. Once I find Noctis and the others, we shall all head home together. Do you understand?"

Ravus lets loose a soft, but still audible sigh of relief. He's rarely so concerned with anyone's opinion of him, but Ignis is one of those rare exceptions. Which makes him all the more anxious to know Ignis doesn't think of him as some sort of lecherous pest.

He thinks the mention of toxins must be about the poisonous breath weapon. Which, it certainly has dulled his senses, but he knows it wasn't the venom that made his arm move against his will. No small part of him wants to argue about it too. Because that still sets blame with Ignis, and Ravus doesn't wish him to carry that burden. None of this Ravus can even begin to blame Ignis for.

But he's already screwed up a few times now, and he's sure with as lightheaded as he feels, he'll only make it worse. It's easier to cut his loses here, and hopefully be able to think and speak more clearly later.

So he focuses on Ignis hand curled in his own to guide him, and nods in agreement. He gently squeezes, relieved to be led, and quietly murmurs a, "Yes, sir."

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EVENT #1: FAE FESTIVITIES

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