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peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:18 am
peckishmods) wrote in peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:18 am
"Pushing things off ledges works real well too," Eddy suggests as he continues to scale Ms. Treetops, her hair making for a convenient set of ropes. He's recently come to appreciate the fuck-this-shit lifestyle of being a feline.
Armani, Eddy, Jupiter and Lionel completed the memory "Have A Heart"!
By completing the memory, two Infinity Cultist spirits were freed. You have found Pouch's Heart!
Upon emerging from the memory, the portal snaps shut behind them. Outside, Pouch is waiting, eager, anxious, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Izzat...?" he asks, eyes wide as he thrusts out his hands. "I can tell. I can feel it. It is!"
Pouch holds his linchpin gentle and reverent, the mischievous smile he wears growing wider and brighter. The malignant maple begins to shake, creak and groan, furious at what's been taken. The magimagicicada looks up at the four gathered students, beaming with pride, utterly disinterested in the protests of the tree.
"Got my heart back," he chirrups, taunting the awful thing surrounding them, closing his hands around the little seed. The burst of silver that issues forth nearly knocks the four students off of their feet.
It blasts away vines and hidden birds and bugs in the branches. The leaves of the nightmare tree curl away from its light. As it dims, the hot, rank air of the upper levels chills, crisp and clean as a February morning. Pouch is bigger, somehow, not physically, but in presence. So much more than he had been a moment before. Frost creeps across his face, his fingertips. His one wing glitters like fresh fallen snow in the sun. Steam wafts from his mouth when he exhales a laugh, and that laugh climbs right up to a triumphant crow.
The tree answers with a roar, begins to shake and shift, but still finds itself stuck fast in place. But for how much longer?
"Can't thank you enough—mainly 'cuz we don't have time," Pouch says, his warm voice carried on a cold winter breeze. He starts to disappear, falling apart like snow, passing through the branches back down to the base of the tree. "C'mon! Gotta pull up the roots if you wanna kill weeds."
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!
By completing the memory, two Infinity Cultist spirits were freed. You have found Pouch's Heart!
Upon emerging from the memory, the portal snaps shut behind them. Outside, Pouch is waiting, eager, anxious, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Izzat...?" he asks, eyes wide as he thrusts out his hands. "I can tell. I can feel it. It is!"
Pouch holds his linchpin gentle and reverent, the mischievous smile he wears growing wider and brighter. The malignant maple begins to shake, creak and groan, furious at what's been taken. The magimagicicada looks up at the four gathered students, beaming with pride, utterly disinterested in the protests of the tree.
"Got my heart back," he chirrups, taunting the awful thing surrounding them, closing his hands around the little seed. The burst of silver that issues forth nearly knocks the four students off of their feet.
It blasts away vines and hidden birds and bugs in the branches. The leaves of the nightmare tree curl away from its light. As it dims, the hot, rank air of the upper levels chills, crisp and clean as a February morning. Pouch is bigger, somehow, not physically, but in presence. So much more than he had been a moment before. Frost creeps across his face, his fingertips. His one wing glitters like fresh fallen snow in the sun. Steam wafts from his mouth when he exhales a laugh, and that laugh climbs right up to a triumphant crow.
The tree answers with a roar, begins to shake and shift, but still finds itself stuck fast in place. But for how much longer?
"Can't thank you enough—mainly 'cuz we don't have time," Pouch says, his warm voice carried on a cold winter breeze. He starts to disappear, falling apart like snow, passing through the branches back down to the base of the tree. "C'mon! Gotta pull up the roots if you wanna kill weeds."
- Armani, Eddy, Jupiter and Lionel each earned 5 Tokens for completing the memory.
- They earned an additional 5 Tokens for defeating a difficult memory encounter.
- They earned 2 Tokens for finding Pouch's Heart before the memory completed.
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!
Mary Grace gingerly picks up the button, pinching the glowing golden copy in her fingers.
"Well, Peter," she mutters, squinting at the button. "Guess that means prom night's wrapping up." She places the linchpin in her purse and starts for the doors. "This one got a little weird anyhow."
"Well, Peter," she mutters, squinting at the button. "Guess that means prom night's wrapping up." She places the linchpin in her purse and starts for the doors. "This one got a little weird anyhow."
[MODERATED - player-run NPC memory]
[CRITERIA: defeat NPC, get linchpin]
Siobhan O'Malley stomps through the Wildgulch cavern, wet shoes squelching every step of the way. Ugh. Just—UGH!! Stupid seniors throwing her in the stupid springs (and not even WILDGULCH seniors). Stupid Mary Grace not even noticing or looking at her. Doesn't she get to listen to her dad's race too?
"Gonna put these shoes in her BED," the freshman grumbles under her breath. She leans against the walls to kick off her wet sneakers, balancing herself on one of the heating pipes snaking through the house. Something rattles inside the pipe and she yanks her hand away. Oh. If this is broken she'd rather not deal with it.
Or if it's haunted.
There had been talk of haunted things.
Siobhan takes a very deliberate step away from the pipe and freezes, one dripping shoe held up, possibly as a weapon.
[CRITERIA: defeat NPC, get linchpin]
Siobhan O'Malley stomps through the Wildgulch cavern, wet shoes squelching every step of the way. Ugh. Just—UGH!! Stupid seniors throwing her in the stupid springs (and not even WILDGULCH seniors). Stupid Mary Grace not even noticing or looking at her. Doesn't she get to listen to her dad's race too?
"Gonna put these shoes in her BED," the freshman grumbles under her breath. She leans against the walls to kick off her wet sneakers, balancing herself on one of the heating pipes snaking through the house. Something rattles inside the pipe and she yanks her hand away. Oh. If this is broken she'd rather not deal with it.
Or if it's haunted.
There had been talk of haunted things.
Siobhan takes a very deliberate step away from the pipe and freezes, one dripping shoe held up, possibly as a weapon.
Edited 2020-06-09 15:59 (UTC)
[?MODERATED? - this memory is lightly moderated]
[CRITERIA: solve the puzzle / figure out how to get the linchpin]
The light flickers and buzzes when it’s flipped on, revealing a narrow, windowless room. It’s little more than a closet, magically expanded but still cramped and stuffed with boxes and books, out of season clothes and a filing cabinet in the corner. Everything is coated with something that looks like soot, and the little room smells faintly of mildew.
There’s a sound at the door, a curious mrrrrp from a grey and black tabby, darting through the memory holder’s legs to enter this forbidden room.
“Sirloin! Stop! Get out of here!” a young, exasperated Lir Liu shouts at the cat and tries to wave her off, but Sirloin doesn’t listen. She hops up on the filing cabinet and surveys the room, looking for somewhere even higher from which to observe her new domain. Lir sighs. “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”
Sirloin the cat doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t expect her to. It’s all part of her mission to make everything incredibly difficult. Whatever. Lir leaves her be as he drags a big plastic tote off a wall shelf. A cloud of soot and dust kicks up when it thuds to the ground.
Lir grabs for a heavy flannel coat, swinging on a wire hanger, and there’s a twist in his chest that’s hard to place before he buries it again. This coat doesn’t smell like mildew. It smells like something else — someone else. He slips it off the hanger and pops open the tote.
Mrrrrrrep. There’s Sirloin again, throwing herself off the filing cabinet to be an inconvenience to humans again. As Lir folds the coat, carefully, like he’s afraid of it dissolving if he’s too rough with it, Sirloin hops in the tote and curls up inside.
“SIR!” he shouts, not angry but something else, sharp emotions tearing through his words. “This isn’t your room and if you keep trying to lay on everything you’re gonna get rid of his SMELL and—”
The light flickers again, the buzzing growing into a drone. Something pops. It all goes dark, and it all goes still.
[CRITERIA: solve the puzzle / figure out how to get the linchpin]
The light flickers and buzzes when it’s flipped on, revealing a narrow, windowless room. It’s little more than a closet, magically expanded but still cramped and stuffed with boxes and books, out of season clothes and a filing cabinet in the corner. Everything is coated with something that looks like soot, and the little room smells faintly of mildew.
There’s a sound at the door, a curious mrrrrp from a grey and black tabby, darting through the memory holder’s legs to enter this forbidden room.
“Sirloin! Stop! Get out of here!” a young, exasperated Lir Liu shouts at the cat and tries to wave her off, but Sirloin doesn’t listen. She hops up on the filing cabinet and surveys the room, looking for somewhere even higher from which to observe her new domain. Lir sighs. “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”
Sirloin the cat doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t expect her to. It’s all part of her mission to make everything incredibly difficult. Whatever. Lir leaves her be as he drags a big plastic tote off a wall shelf. A cloud of soot and dust kicks up when it thuds to the ground.
Lir grabs for a heavy flannel coat, swinging on a wire hanger, and there’s a twist in his chest that’s hard to place before he buries it again. This coat doesn’t smell like mildew. It smells like something else — someone else. He slips it off the hanger and pops open the tote.
Mrrrrrrep. There’s Sirloin again, throwing herself off the filing cabinet to be an inconvenience to humans again. As Lir folds the coat, carefully, like he’s afraid of it dissolving if he’s too rough with it, Sirloin hops in the tote and curls up inside.
“SIR!” he shouts, not angry but something else, sharp emotions tearing through his words. “This isn’t your room and if you keep trying to lay on everything you’re gonna get rid of his SMELL and—”
The light flickers again, the buzzing growing into a drone. Something pops. It all goes dark, and it all goes still.
[MODERATED]
[CRITERIA: Defeat NPC]
[METAPLOT]
Sunlight filters in through a grimy window, dappling the floor of a room in utter disarray. Boxes dot the floor, half-filled and catawampus, sharpied labels rendered illegible by the fog of memory. It feels like there can’t possibly be anything left to rip off these walls, but there’s still so much to pack.
From the bed, stripped of its sheets and cluttered with unsorted clothes, the young man runs a hand through his hair, fingers catching on that mess of blond curls. Everything here in this bedroom turns his stomach, kicking up emotions he’s too young to manage and too scared to face. His wand on the dresser, his Walkman on the floor, the no-maj coins in a mason jar — all reminders of things they’d done, places they’d gone, and where they were going now.
Footsteps on the landing outside catch the young man’s attention. He sits up straight and swipes an arm across his face before the door can creak open.
“Hey Bryce, sweetie.” Bryce Qualls doesn’t look up quite yet, his throat aching at the prospect of looking his mother in the eye right now. “Bruno said he can take a load up right now if you’ve got any boxes ready.”
“Oh, um, hang on a second.” Bryce grabs a pile of clothes off the bed, unfolded and probably dirty, and tosses them in the nearest box. “If you wanna take this one, I’ve got like three or four more I can bring down in a minute.”
Marilynn Qualls, a soft, sweet, blonde woman, pushes the door open the rest of the way and enters. There’s a wand in the pocket of her apron, but she doesn’t use it. Instead, she drops to her knees without a word, picks up the tape gun and stretches it across the cardboard lid.
“Mom, don’t worry about it, I can just—” Marilynn puts a hand up, not forceful in any way, and Bryce’s words stop in their tracks. His mother might technically be a muggle, but she always seemed to work her own form of magic with her boys.
“Just a little more effort and I think this works just fine,” she answers over the groan of the tape gun. “It’s kind of nice to do things with your own hands sometimes, you know? And depending on how long we stay in this new place, you might have to get used to it.”
Bryce nods, and he looks away from his mother again. “How far away is it again?”
“Not that far, rea—” The rest of Marilynn’s words are drowned out by the sound of a car horn, blaring through Bryce’s bedroom window. Bryce jumps and reaches for the curtain, and everything stops what it’s doing — including, thankfully, the car horn.
[CRITERIA: Defeat NPC]
[METAPLOT]
Sunlight filters in through a grimy window, dappling the floor of a room in utter disarray. Boxes dot the floor, half-filled and catawampus, sharpied labels rendered illegible by the fog of memory. It feels like there can’t possibly be anything left to rip off these walls, but there’s still so much to pack.
From the bed, stripped of its sheets and cluttered with unsorted clothes, the young man runs a hand through his hair, fingers catching on that mess of blond curls. Everything here in this bedroom turns his stomach, kicking up emotions he’s too young to manage and too scared to face. His wand on the dresser, his Walkman on the floor, the no-maj coins in a mason jar — all reminders of things they’d done, places they’d gone, and where they were going now.
Footsteps on the landing outside catch the young man’s attention. He sits up straight and swipes an arm across his face before the door can creak open.
“Hey Bryce, sweetie.” Bryce Qualls doesn’t look up quite yet, his throat aching at the prospect of looking his mother in the eye right now. “Bruno said he can take a load up right now if you’ve got any boxes ready.”
“Oh, um, hang on a second.” Bryce grabs a pile of clothes off the bed, unfolded and probably dirty, and tosses them in the nearest box. “If you wanna take this one, I’ve got like three or four more I can bring down in a minute.”
Marilynn Qualls, a soft, sweet, blonde woman, pushes the door open the rest of the way and enters. There’s a wand in the pocket of her apron, but she doesn’t use it. Instead, she drops to her knees without a word, picks up the tape gun and stretches it across the cardboard lid.
“Mom, don’t worry about it, I can just—” Marilynn puts a hand up, not forceful in any way, and Bryce’s words stop in their tracks. His mother might technically be a muggle, but she always seemed to work her own form of magic with her boys.
“Just a little more effort and I think this works just fine,” she answers over the groan of the tape gun. “It’s kind of nice to do things with your own hands sometimes, you know? And depending on how long we stay in this new place, you might have to get used to it.”
Bryce nods, and he looks away from his mother again. “How far away is it again?”
“Not that far, rea—” The rest of Marilynn’s words are drowned out by the sound of a car horn, blaring through Bryce’s bedroom window. Bryce jumps and reaches for the curtain, and everything stops what it’s doing — including, thankfully, the car horn.
“Oh no, but it’s been so magical.” Chanel deadpans, following.
She does take her own half shot of Absolut, and catches up to Mary Grace to slide the remainder into her purse in the most bare show of public affection she’ll likely ever give. But recompense feels right. That was strange. The cicadas’ mourning isn’t sitting well with her. This loss is palpable. She draws on the resolve she’d felt only a few moments before, and steps onward. It’s time to end it.
She does take her own half shot of Absolut, and catches up to Mary Grace to slide the remainder into her purse in the most bare show of public affection she’ll likely ever give. But recompense feels right. That was strange. The cicadas’ mourning isn’t sitting well with her. This loss is palpable. She draws on the resolve she’d felt only a few moments before, and steps onward. It’s time to end it.
Claudia, adjusting Ms. Altizer's delightfully 1980s top so it's just a little more off the shoulder, circles back around so she's standing behind her again.
"I bet I could nail it now," she says, and uses Ms. Altizer's hand to toss the ping pong ball at the red solo cups.
"I bet I could nail it now," she says, and uses Ms. Altizer's hand to toss the ping pong ball at the red solo cups.
Edited 2020-06-09 16:50 (UTC)
Claudia (ROLLED 2) misses the cup, and the ball bounces into the party behind Mr. Berzelius and the boobs he's drowning in.
"Oh! Me!" Felicity grabs a ball with her right hand and closes her left eye as she takes aim. She brings her Big Gulp up, finds the straw with her mouth, and takes a drag for hydration and good luck.
Then with a flick of her wrist, she sends the ball flying.
Then with a flick of her wrist, she sends the ball flying.
Edited (see y'all during my lunch break!) 2020-06-09 17:17 (UTC)
Felicity (ROLLED 1) watches her ball bounce off Mr. Berzelius' head and roll even further into the party.
Armani lives for the applause. And now he's going to find the portal first and everyone's going to be super impressed with him and clap, too.
He runs toward the chuppah like they're playing a game of tag and, while not a boy, jumps up to slap the top of it just like one.
... Oh, that's anticlimactic.
"How do we make the scene play??" he demands.
He runs toward the chuppah like they're playing a game of tag and, while not a boy, jumps up to slap the top of it just like one.
... Oh, that's anticlimactic.
"How do we make the scene play??" he demands.
Snippets jump out as Viola inspects the parchment.
"... The loss of our neighbors in Paw Paw ... dark times in our great town as a creeping dread descended ... the heroic sacrifices of a few ... prevented unfathomable loss ..."
More is crossed out underneath, illegible. Looks like a speech no one ever wanted to write.
"... The loss of our neighbors in Paw Paw ... dark times in our great town as a creeping dread descended ... the heroic sacrifices of a few ... prevented unfathomable loss ..."
More is crossed out underneath, illegible. Looks like a speech no one ever wanted to write.
Jupiter (ROLLED 9) lands that ping pong ball right in the cleavage. It rolls down the girl's front and into the red solo cup.
Nothing happens, but she looks cool.
Nothing happens, but she looks cool.
"Wait," Adrian says, still trying to keep up with everything going on. A glowing planner, a frozen memory, feeling the emotions of Mothgarden's head of house?? "Uh." He looks around. Why couldn't they at least be trapped somewhere that had cake or something. "Are we gonna die here?"
"We're not gonna die," he tries to reassure him. "It's just a puzzle we have to solve. And sometimes we have to kill things, but they die easy."
“Sometime soon we might die.” She adds, as it’s good practice to always remind people about that, “But I refuse to at Mr. Berzelius’ wedding rehearsal. Maybe let’s try the handshake?”
She attempts to recreate it at Eddy’s arm if he doesn’t put up a more receptive hand. She remembers a majority of the steps, her future teacher may be pleased to know.
She attempts to recreate it at Eddy’s arm if he doesn’t put up a more receptive hand. She remembers a majority of the steps, her future teacher may be pleased to know.
Ah, yes, that must have been it. It was definitely the handshake all along, and the memory kicks forward again.
“Oh, shit, that sounds way easier,” Helen Altizer kids and elbows Alva in the arm. “Like at least half the steps.”
“I’ll tell Jessica, Hel! She hates when you two talk as much as I do,” Clytemnestra calls out again, little sister always ready to tattle. “And I’m keeping the honeymoon.”
“Is she jealous or is she giving us permission?” Helen asks, just loud enough for her sister to hear in the audience.
“Oh, Nes has never been jealous in her life, she’s definitely giving us permission.” Clytemnestra scribbles a little too hard in her planner while her sister and fiance continue to torment her. “Should we finally do it? Run away? Start a new life together?” Alva cocks his head to look at Helen, smirking like the real asshole he is. “Move to Spain and sell seashells by the seashore?”
“Only if we can pick new names—oh, and you can be Mikey Butter, unassuming heir to the butter fortune.”
While Clytemnestra flips the two of them off from the audience, the space below the chuppah falls away and leaves a blue void: a portal back to Peckenpaugh.
[MEMORY COMPLETE! Linchpin acquired. You can continue to thread here or leave through the portal back to Peckenpaugh.]
“Oh, shit, that sounds way easier,” Helen Altizer kids and elbows Alva in the arm. “Like at least half the steps.”
“I’ll tell Jessica, Hel! She hates when you two talk as much as I do,” Clytemnestra calls out again, little sister always ready to tattle. “And I’m keeping the honeymoon.”
“Is she jealous or is she giving us permission?” Helen asks, just loud enough for her sister to hear in the audience.
“Oh, Nes has never been jealous in her life, she’s definitely giving us permission.” Clytemnestra scribbles a little too hard in her planner while her sister and fiance continue to torment her. “Should we finally do it? Run away? Start a new life together?” Alva cocks his head to look at Helen, smirking like the real asshole he is. “Move to Spain and sell seashells by the seashore?”
“Only if we can pick new names—oh, and you can be Mikey Butter, unassuming heir to the butter fortune.”
While Clytemnestra flips the two of them off from the audience, the space below the chuppah falls away and leaves a blue void: a portal back to Peckenpaugh.
[MEMORY COMPLETE! Linchpin acquired. You can continue to thread here or leave through the portal back to Peckenpaugh.]
Armani literally just drops through the fuckin' ground.
Edited (clips thru map) 2020-06-09 18:55 (UTC)
Eddy's the least inclined to choreography here, but he does offer a fist bump, fist bump, double fist bump. The memory thankfully starts up again before he has to remember the rest.
"Guess we're going."
"Guess we're going."
“And you’ve survived your first memory!” Chanel makes sure to praise Adrian too, fist bump fist bump hip checking all the way to the portal, which she jumps through as well.
"Mazel tov?" Adrian asks as he hops into the void.
Adrian, Armani, Chanel and Eddy completed a memory!
Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.
Alva Berzelius was not freed. He is still trapped somewhere within the nightmare tree. However, elsewhere in the auditorium, bees, a magimagicicada was freed!
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!
Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.
Alva Berzelius was not freed. He is still trapped somewhere within the nightmare tree. However, elsewhere in the auditorium, bees, a magimagicicada was freed!
- Adrian, Armani, Chanel and Eddy each earned 5 Tokens for completing a memory!
- They earned 2 Tokens for finding the linchpin before the memory cap!
- All of them but Adrian received an additional 1 Token a piece for not leaving their beef boy to die here confused.
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!
Edited 2020-06-09 20:17 (UTC)
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