peckishmods: ([place] forgotten places)
peckishmods ([personal profile] peckishmods) wrote in [community profile] peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:09 am
Entry tags:

HE IS HERE

the vines have run wild
it's over Everything is in shambles. Walls and floors torn and broken from roots and branches sprouting through. They block doors and crowd passages and pulse with sick life. The Thing sits in the center of it all, angry and starving, its trunk both still and moving in ways you catch only when it is in the corner of your vision. Branches that look less like bark and more like skin stretch in every direction, lush with shadowy leaves and dotted with bits of glowing blue. The ruined floor is littered with those little twinkling dots. Seeds. Everywhere, seeds. They hang on boughs, and rest on banisters in the upper levels. The one thing in this nightmare that doesn't radiate that awful, pervasive hunger.

The roof is gone, replaced with a writhing canopy of shadow and muck. Some parts of it are complex spiderwebs of tendrilly shapes, others solid formless movement. The only consistent thing about it is that it is terrible to behold, faintly nauseating to look at for too long. Ash rains down between gaps in its branches, and what glimpses of sky are visible are nothing but swirling gray clouds. What stars still shine are magic, man-made, floated between balconies by prom committee before the dance.

Those remaining begin to stir. Each one of you has heard Pocket's words, "Find the roots." And if you want to save your friends, your family, the holler — hell, maybe even the world — that's exactly what you're going to do.

You climb from protective cocoons of dying moss, push your way past walls of solid ice, emerging into utter destruction. Things move and make noise at the edge of your vision, but for now, at least, all is calm. What to do? Where to start?
it's ruined Among the twinkling maple seeds are the dropped possessions of students and staff, lost when they were pulled away. A compact mirror, a cell phone, a pair of glasses, cups of punch spilling across the floor. A single red heel sits at the edge of the jagged pit that peers down into the Sorting Path. The air here is hot. Too hot. If you jump, you'll surely be boiled alive.

Though locked when everyone tried to flee, vines and roots have torn the doors to the auditorium off their hinges. The splintered remains of heavy oak doors litter the entrance halls and stairwell alcoves, leaving an open path outside. Not that you'd want to flee, by the looks of it.

A cool night breeze is the only relief from the growing heat of the auditorium, yes, but even that is tainted by the heavy scent of flowers. Outside, vines and purple flowers have exploded over every surface. They climb up lamp posts, engulf buildings whole, hang from trees. It would be beautiful if it weren't horrifying. Campus is unrecognizable.
there is no hope Roots and vines clog the way to the Sorting Path, and most stairwells are completely obstructed by the growths of that horrible tree. Up above, something buzzes and wails, a mockery of a cicada's cry, and beyond that the twittering of birds nesting in the tree's highest branches.

Pouch coalesces in the middle of it all, a one-winged magimagicicada, weak and weary but undaunted. Resolute, if not reinvigorated. He bends down to touch a seed, and the moment his obsidian fingers light on it, a blue-white portal to somewhere else rips right through reality. A memory begins to play. Somehow, the bug seems to know what he's seeing.

She gave us what we need, the one who ran says to the gathered students, his voice in their heads as much as the air. Let's all not let her down, huh?

Find your friends. Find my siblings. It's time to fight.

but you'll keep going, won't you?
TO ELSEWHERE
| TO OUTSIDE | TO THE UPPER LEVELS | TO THE SORTING PATH |

IN THIS HUB
| ARE YOU THERE? |
| AT THE BASE OF THE TREE | A POCKET OF SAFETY |
| BACKSTAGE | THE DANCE STUDIO |

OOC POSTS
| OOC ACTION HUB | OOC CHATTER - QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS |
bigbruise: (is๐Ÿ’ฅ006)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] bigbruise 2020-06-01 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Imogen, who lost interest in this interaction during the ten second interlude in which she did not pick up the reference, is in the midst of (somewhat shakily) applying lip balm when the memory freezes. "Ummm."

A pause to cap the tube, take a few experimental steps in her swirly gown. The ouija board is a curiosity for sure, and the rattling door knob is a little concerning, but she's interested above all in the very 90s looks these girls are sporting, and makes a pleased little ooh face at one stylistic choice in particular.

"Omigod. The barrettes. So cute."
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 013)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-01 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Maisy, meanwhile, is so easily distracted that one might wonder if she was ever properly focused on something.

โ€œKyleโ€™s here!โ€ she announces, immediately shuffling her way over to him. She has, luckily, ditched her heels for some foldable slippers, but this does mean her considerable taffeta skirts drag along the ground every time she moves, crinkling loudly. Hopefully there wonโ€™t be too much stealth involved in memory diving.

After she has spent an appropriate amount of time cooing over Kyle, she takes stock of the scene in front of her. โ€œOoh, the bowling alley basement,โ€ she whines. โ€œI hate it here.โ€
Edited (Pardon my phone tags ) 2020-06-01 23:33 (UTC)
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ019)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-01 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Audrey is silent as she observes. Or, at least. She is, now that she's determined that Kyle and the girls probably don't see her, or the rest of them. "He's such a ladies' man." She sing-songs softly, a few inches from the teen Kyle. If they ever get out of here alive, she's going to have to just casually watch The Big Lebowski on her laptop on her shift. See if he notices.

But that's not priority right now, probably. They are in the bowling basement. And that means someone is very close.
"They talked...to him. The weed. Mr. Dude. I wonder...if that means he's close, now, too." They're in a different place, a different time. So. Maybe not. She stands up a little straighter, anyway.
Edited 2020-06-01 23:48 (UTC)
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-01 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Somewhere, in that all-encompassing darkness just beyond the circle, a pile of boxes shifts and nearly topples over.
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 059)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-01 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Maisy screams.
bigbruise: (is๐Ÿ’ฅ028)

Re: MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] bigbruise 2020-06-02 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
Imogen, who had been in the midst of stashing a couple stolen butterfly clips in her own hair, jumps backward and lets out a huff that sounds more like offense than actual fear. Then she storms over to the very edge of the light, staring out into the deep dark.

"Probably just a rat?" she half-comments half-questions, securing her hairdo at last. Her hands fall to her sides in mean little fists.
Edited 2020-06-02 00:07 (UTC)
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ019)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-02 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
Audrey sucks in some air, steeling herself for a blow that does not come. Not just yet. "Probably...those are cute."

She gestures at the butterfly clips, padding up to join Imogen at the edge of the light. She pulls her phone from her pocket and uses the flashlight feature to expand that scope, taking a half-step into the darkness. Against literally all of her better judgment, she calls, "Hello?"

Just in case.
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-02 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
Audrey's phone illuminates a stack of three boxes leaning precariously, the top one filled with bowling shoes. On the floor are several shoes and cans of shoe spray, scattered nuts and bolts. It also just catches the corner of the hot pink Ouija board Kyle sent flying into the void.

No one replies.

But the stack of boxes do come crashing to the floor.
bigbruise: (is๐Ÿ’ฅ047)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] bigbruise 2020-06-02 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
Oh yeah, that thing.

Imogen bends down and snatches up the Ouija without much thought.
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 081)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-02 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
Maisy feigns like she wasn't just acting like a total scaredy-cat, fluffing her hair and idly following Imogen over to the pile of boxes. Just boxes! No big deal. Not even rats.

"Are we gonna do a seance?" she wonders. "Ain't really dressed for one..."
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ018)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-02 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
"Seance chic...is a flexible category." Audrey reassures, shining her phone around. She's looking for Kyle's Very Pink Planchette. Emboldened by the fact that nothing's come out to eat them yet, she steps further in. "I...don't want to talk to Mr. The Dude. But. They never closed it out right. Never said goodbye. ...Maybe that?"
bigbruise: (is๐Ÿ’ฅ062)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] bigbruise 2020-06-02 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
Imogen shrugs. It sounds right to her. But so would ripping the board in half.

"Okay. Like, 'later, Dude."
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-02 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
There it is, the Very Pink Planchette, sitting comfortably in a thick blanket of cobwebs behind a shelf.

But before any of the girls can grab it, one of the fallen boxes shakes once. Twice.

It shoots across the floor, knocking into the bookshelf, and the sickly sweet floral scent fills the air.
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 099)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-02 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Scaredy-cat though she may be, Maisy has been to some wacky and out-of-hand seances in her day. Sure, maybe most of them were elaborate shows put on by Aunt Orla to con tourists out of a few dragots, but she has the spirit of it (no pun intended). And if there's one thing she knows about an unruly ghost, it's that you should be firm with them.

"You stop that!" she announces as the box shoots across the room. Momentarily torn, she eventually decides to go retrieve the planchette before investigating the cloyingly-scented box.
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ012)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-02 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
Audrey is the one to let out a strangled little shriek, because that smell. It's a memory all its own. "Weeds!" She warns, and runs up to kick the box away as far as she can.
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-02 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
A vine whips out as Maisy as she moves toward the planchette, but it's dark down here and Maisy (ROLLED 10) scampers across the basement floor unscathed.

Audrey (ROLLED 3) isn't so quick, and the vine starts to wrap around her ankle.
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 139)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-02 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
It takes Maisy a second to fully register the fact that she's in danger, but once she does she turns into a cartoon cloud of flailing limbs and panic. She makes a dive for the planchette, clutching it to her chest as she rolls over to look back at the vines.

"AUDREY!" she shouts. "ARE YOU OKAY?"
Edited (unhelpful) 2020-06-02 03:57 (UTC)
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-02 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
An exact copy of the planchette stays on the ground, the one clutched to Maisy's chest glowing at the edges. Maisy has found this memory's linchpin! Better keep a tight hold on that.
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ016)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-02 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
Audrey, unfortunately, is a little distracted, and does not notice the soft golden glow. "...Um!" comes her very informative reply. She stomps and stomps with her boots at the vines, suddenly very aware this is a bad thing. She knows how to freeze these, and she has a Patronus, but neither are available because neither is her wand. She reaches blindly for the bookshelf, or something heavy, hoping to knock it down to smash the plants. An inelegant solution is still a solution.
bigbruise: (is๐Ÿ’ฅ040)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] bigbruise 2020-06-02 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
At the suggestion of destruction Imogen powers forward to assist Audrey, tearing her skirt audibly in the process. She pulls with all her might at the back edge of the bookshelf, growling down at the squirming things on the floor. "Fuck you!"
peckishbeings: (Default)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] peckishbeings 2020-06-02 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
Audrey's heels strike true (ROLLED 7) but it just makes the vine angry. It coils even tighter, pulling her closer to the boxes, drawing her who-knows-where.

But then Imogen (ROLLED 10) crashes onto the scene, and the bookshelf rips free. The cluttered shelves slam down onto the boxes, scattering shoes and whatever else you keep in a bowling alley basement to the ground.

There is no more movement. The girls have defeated the vines!
dareyouto: (๐Ÿ’… 123)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] dareyouto 2020-06-02 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
Maisy scrambles to her feet and skitters her way over to Audrey to help her up. It's only once she's gotten there that she realizes that the planchette she's holding is glowing.

"Uhmmmm," she says, holding it out for Imogen and Audrey to see. "Is it suppos'ta to do this?"
andpoke: (๐Ÿ”ฎ010)

MEMORY: Mr. The Dude

[personal profile] andpoke 2020-06-02 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
As they watch the memory play out, Audrey pulls herself up on to Maisy's arm. "Poor Kyle." She muses, but her eyes follow him up the stairs. That doesn't go to the bowling alley anymore. But she looks around for the board, first. "...We should still close their session out. So the weeds don't follow." This is wishful thinking, but she doesn't want to take any chances. She chances a grin at Imogen, and it's grateful. "Can't make you carry a bookshelf around. I guess."