peckenpaugh | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jupiter tries to punch the bird before it can get Trudy.

She's way bigger so this is a super good idea.

Jupiter (ROLLED 9) manages to sock that bird right out of the air, but there's more. There's a whole flock of them shooting down from the sky and slamming into the back of her head. One of them gets stuck in her hair, another tries to peck at Trudy's glasses, and they're all fucking loud.

Edited (trudy also rolled a 9 or jup would have punched her too) 2020-06-05 15:54 (UTC)

What kind of asshole birds go for a girl's glasses? Now, Trudy is really getting angry. She keeps her legs locked around the ball between her thighs, and casts, "Reducto!" towards the swarm.

Trudy (ROLLED 9) blasts the swarm of birds, but Jupiter (ROLLED 1) is in the path too. Trudy singes off several inches of Jupiter's hair, freeing a bird while she's at it.

The bird (ROLLED 3) tries to attack either of the girls, but, blinded by about a pound of hair, winds up slamming into a ball. It ping pongs through a path of balls before disappearing somewhere in the distance.

There's still a few birds left, but they can't possibly be a problem for these girls.

"I'VE GOT THE THING, IS THERE A DOOR YET?" Trudy shouts. She hopes they won't have to fall down into it.

"MY HAIR," is the response she gets, squawked loudly as Jupiter pats out her curls.

Ugh. Burnt hair smell.

Joop doesn't have any weapons to speak of, but she has a proven track record with punches, and so she flails around at the remaining birds.

Jooper (ROLLED 10) absolutely nails those fucking birds where it hurts, scattering all but a single bird. The bird (ROLLED 3) frantically tries to get away from her hands, but slams right into Trudy (ROLLED 2) before dropping to the dirt.

Trudy and Jup have defeated the Birds!

Everything starts again all at once. The girls are back on the broom with the little Claudia, who keeps rocketing sideways to catch that Bludger and the Bludger obliges. It catches her in the stomach, slams her back toward the hoop, and everything gets a little mushy and twisty for a moment.

Then she stops, pulled up short with a jerk. Claudia hangs, half upside down on the other side of the goalpost, a Bludger squirming in her arms. Her broom, still locked between her knees, is caught on the hoop.

Except, looking back through the hoop doesn't show that shiny new Quidditch pitch anymore; it shows a way right back to Peckenpaugh.

Edited 2020-06-05 20:01 (UTC)

Ah, broom acrobatics, atta girl, Claude. Jupiter beams through the chaos, bright and thrilled by the daring flight. This is some wild ass flying for sure, and she keeps one arm around Trudy to make sure the other girl doesn't fling away amidst the chaos.

"WOO!" Jupiter cheers when they come to a stop, ruffling little Claudia's hair like they've just won a quidditch match. "That's my girl!"

And then she remembers, oh yeah, Trudes isn't really used to this sort of flying. "Hey, Gertjert, what's your hork-o-meter at? Gonna blow chunks?" A pause, she points at the portal back to Peckenpaugh. "You should do it through the hoop if so."

Jupiter and Trudy completed the memory "Sports Ball"!

Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.

At the base of the tree, Claudia Vega was freed!

Jupiter and Trudy each received 10 Tokens for participating in the memory and defeating the encounter.

They received an additional 2 Tokens for finding the linchpin and 1 token for not falling to their deaths!

You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!

"I'm not going to hork!" Trudy protests, screwing her face up in offence and disdain. "I don't play sports because I don't like them, not because I have a weak stomach!" She's still clinging to Jupiter for dear life again, though.

"No shame in horking," Jupiter replies with a one shoulder shrug. The other arm's busy, still holding Trudy in place. She doesn't seem to mind being clung to, although she doesn't bother to hide the wickedly smug grin on her face, either. "I won't even tell Kermie if you do."

After a beat, she cranes her head to get an idea of how best to get through that hoop, and reaches out one arm to grasp it. Should be a quick jump and swing through, but she pauses just before she does it. "Hang on, I'll climb us outta here,"

"I'm NOT going to hork!" Trudy replies with the same stern voice she uses on band freshmen. "And you don't have to carry me like an infant," she adds, though as soon as she tries to stand to grab the hoop, she wobbles precariously.

Edited (never leaves claudia's brain) 2020-06-09 02:22 (UTC)

"Not carrying you like an infant," Jupiter snorts back, sticking out her tongue, but also refusing to release Trudy despite her protests. "I'm carrying you like a cool charming hero."

Edited (welcome to hell Claude) 2020-06-09 02:28 (UTC)

HE IS HERE

Re: MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

MEMORY: Sports Ball

Re: MEMORY: Sports Ball