What You Take With You

[unpocoloco]

Who: Héctor, and all others on mission. ICly, positions are random but OOCly, would like to reserve this for as much of his closer CR as possible.
What: A mission to collect an important artifact. And then maybe a rescue. Further details are here.
When: Early evening of the 8th and likely going on longer.
Where: The Outlands
Warning: NPC Death & Corpses

Trials

A spell is required to find the point in the Outlands where the investigations took place, what with it the world constantly changing and shifting. It may not seem immediately clear they've arrived. Until the pit opens beneath them, dropping. The team will find themselves in an old cenote, mimicking ones of the earth and old mesoamerican cultures. The ground rises slightly out of the water, leading to a path out of the cenote. It's been caved in somewhat, only enough space for a very, very thin figure to fit through. The team will have to be careful to move the rubble aside to get through, and in doing so, they may catch the old scent of death and rot. It'll soon be clear what became of most the research team.

The path on heads deeper into the Outlands. The world moves, at times before their eyes, trees giving way to mountains and mountains that seem to crush in on the paths between, calling for quick steps and faster thinking. Rivers of water that turn to something not unlike blood. And of course, that's to speak nothing for the sort of monsters that naturally roam the Outlands, hungry. Teamwork won't just be helpful, but necessary.


Family First

Finally, it seems the team is getting close, according to the brightness of the transferred rune they've been told to carry. It seems the ground has been leveling out as well, even if it's rather foggy. The closer the team gets the clearer the voices become, conversational chatter rather than the conspiratorial sort. There are even the impressions of figures, a spot of light in the darkness from a crackling fire. And then the chatter dies, one figure stepping up quick, swinging a long spear.

"Who's there?" snaps out an older woman's voice.

Another voice, more unsteady, pipes up, "They followed it! They came for me! It's my team!"

The fog finally clears just enough to reveal the encampment. There, a gathering of skeletons sit, staring wide-eyed, braced to run even in the middle of all manner simple tasks-- sitting together in blankets, tending breaks, fixing wagons, makeshift weaponry, and torn fabrics, hanging onto loved ones, and pulling up makeshift structures and tents. They're frozen in place, including the woman standing guard at the center, an elderly skeleton with grey hair pulled back and a long poncho hanging down to her knees. Next to her, the source of the voice, is the one seemingly non-skeletal figure there, a man with a deeply sunken and discolored face, a bandage and cloth around his head, showing off a glowing rune on his arm to match the one the team holds now.

"Or maybe it's not them," The man says weakly. But then, the rest of the skeletons fully register the team, some with shock, some with delight. One skeleton calls out.

"COUSIN HÉCTOR!!"

Yet more calls of the same nature echo out, happy conversation renewed as some get up to greet the team and others go to tell the rest of the family, which is, if the various calls by family names are any indication, what they really seem to be.

~~~

After the initial flurry, things settle down with many skeletons returning to their tasks. Some will, however, invite the team to join in them in storytelling, fixing things, or if the skeletons happen to be young children, playing games. The people are young and old, ranging in time periods with bright colors of the nineties to recent times to back far, far older.

It would almost seem a happy place but for the obvious wear and tear not only on what they carry, but the skeletons themselves. There's also the chance that, given enough time, some skeletons seen earlier will seem to have just disappeared. Walk away, come back, and those who were there are simply gone. The skeletons don't seem concerned about looking into this, though they do seem saddened enough by it to pause what they're doing.

Nearby, a pair of undead sit by what appears to be a glowing orange-gold flower, an odd outlands cross of some kind of lily and a marigold. The pair take turns tipping the flower into one another's cupped hands spilling some kind of liquid nectar. They drink from it, and somehow, the liquid doesn't spill from their empty mouths. It can be dug from the ground and the glow won't stop. At least not right away.

Comments

Trials

[unpocoloco]

Héctor | OTA

[unpocoloco]

A - New Arrival

He's trying to keep calm. He's been in the Outlands a few times now, with Ekkehardt, guided by Hieke, again with Imelda when they all went to fight that lich. He almost has his breath under control when the ground gives way.

He's all but scrambling out of the water, looking back to see who can or can't swim and diving in for anyone who can't. But with that done, he's looking around at it all, hugging his arms to his chest.

"A death pit," He mutters. They were beautiful back home, but that doesn't mean being dropped into one out here is welcome.

Eventually, he makes his way to that slim crack of rubble. There's some here who don't know about him, but, well, he doesn't have a choice now does he. His body lights and he shifts, down to bones. All the better to squeeze through that small crack and try and help out from the other side.

B - Old Veteran

Once they're moving, something in his mind and heart seems to settle. The phantom versions of those anyway. No sense in going back to flesh now that everyone's seen him.

His two years outside are a temporary dream and he's back to traveling the outlands. Though his band this time is much different, he moves the same. Every step is careful and he's nothing if not alert. When gnarled branches rise up and twist, he watches each one and at the slightest sound, he shouts back, "Head down!" Usually before a branch swings with deliberate intent to injure.

Over stoney passes and rising stone, he says, "Hang on to the nearest on to you. Watch your steps and listen close."

He's no leader. Anyone will hear his voice wavering. Horrific rivers get no warning-- they're nothing but that.

A monster, on the other hand, means his arms are going out to shield, a hushed command following; "Everyone younger stay close. Those older, get ready to branch off and hail it."

A

[improbablenotimpossible]

The vampire instinctively shifted into mist as they dropped, avoiding the splash landing of the others, before materializing into solid form, much like Hector, he waited in case someone needed to be pulled out. His eyes swept their surroundings, from the stalactites above, to the turquoise waters that grew ominously dark and murky the further away from the entrance. Seeing one from this angle? He could understand why Mayans considered them portals to the underworld.

"Thankfully we don't need to come back the way we came in," He idly comments before joining Hector - again becoming mist - feeling much like being caught out in on a foggy night for anyone passing through him - to slip through the crevices, reforming on the other side. The man slide off his coat and rolling his sleeves up (there's some odd circular scars on the underside of his left arm) as he starts to move stones. "...I am not liking what I'm smelling."

[unpocoloco]

His hair and clothes are sopping wet, hanging off his bones, but he pays no mind to it. He offers a slight smile to Arthur as they begin to dig. Vampirism was never much a secret with him, but this still means showing it off. He appreciates the help to dig all the more for it.

"One bit of luck," He agrees. Though it's quickly clear that others weren't so lucky. The scars are for another time. Right now is the smell and while Héctor might not have any supernatural sense, it's hard to miss this. He knows it well.

"Death," He says. "It smells like death."

B

[subconmodo]

"You know you could just ask me to help out right?" Avery asks dryly, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips. "You all may not be able to fight, but I'm more than willing to do some damage.

Especially if it means blowing up a few things around here. He doesn't like this place. It's too close to his home's tastefully creepy aesthetic, and he can't sue nature (or whatever the Outlands equivalent is).

[unpocoloco]

He blinks and looks over. He... should have realized that. Somehow, in getting into the moment of all this he forgot; his people here aren't powerless against the things that show in this world.

He meets that ghost of a smile with a slow-forming grin of his own.

"Avery, mi amigo, if it should please you, I would for once wholly appreciate you doing some damage."

B

[inkedspell]

Sarona knows, and has known, for months now, but never saw a reason to tell him what she had seen. For once in her life, she chose the route of respecting someone's privacy and leaving a situation alone. So she's not surprised that being in the Outlands would have him reverting back to this state of himself. She's very tall and skinny, but she's not skeletal enough to make squeezing through some of the rocky spots without prep that easy.

The branches attempting to attack them is more of a surprise and she ducks quickly, avoiding letting her hair get caught in the wild follow-through. Then she brings up the metal pole she had brought as her weapon for the mission, letting the metal shift to a sharp sickle blade to hack the branch right off in her upswing.

"These trees aren't going to like me by the end, if they keep trying to gouge my eyes out."

Tobias | OTA

[hawkwardness]

He changes into his mutant gator form once they make it out of the cenote. It's frighteningly large, bigger than any natural alligator that ever lived. It's nice to do something positive with this shape, one that he started out liking before it was turned against him on the night of the Hunt. He's practically a dinosaur and dinosaurs are awesome.

One can only hope it'll be enough to at least intimidate Outland nasties. Most of the time, he's lumbering along slowly, but he can be scarily fast when he needs to be. The tail alone could be dangerous if he whips it around, and at the other end... well, god help anything that comes near those terrible jaws. A normal gator can bite through steel, imagine what this one can do!

And there's something else he can provide to anyone who looks tired. The gator isn't. It can go for miles and miles, relentless. < Hey, do you want to ride on my back for a while? >

[subconmodo]

Avery wasn't there a moment ago, but once the question is asked, he's practically shoving his way up to the front, an almost childish, manic glee on his face. "Yes."

Family First

[unpocoloco]

>Talk to the Mirror Keeper

[unpocoloco]

The former investigator sits in wait. The team came for him after all. He's shifted back to a skeletal form, causing the light of the rune the team holds to go out as well. He's abandoned the bandage and cloth, now showing the hefty crack in his skull that no doubt killed him. He tries to put on a brave, no-nonsense face, but it's clear he's nervous.

[spelleton]

He might as well get down to business. It's nice for Héctor to see his family again, certainly, but while all that pleasantry is going on he's taking the chance to talk to the person who led them all out here in the first place.

"So," he begins, seating himself to be on equal level with the man. "How did you come to be here, anyway? You must have taken quite the wrong turn."

>Talk to an NPC

[unpocoloco]

[OOC: Tag this with your event NPCs or to request to talk to any random NPC.]

skeleton kiddos preferred!!

[hawkwardness]

There are children out here. Little dead children, 'living' a nightmare everyday. He might have been told there were already, but the implications didn't sink in. Until now.

And he's a bit of a nightmare himself, but it takes a few minutes to shrink back down to a two pound bird, and just as much time to grow back up. A long time to be vulnerable if anything happens. So he'll remain a mountain of gator for now, over half a ton of mean and scary.

The mental voice that comes from this monster sounds like any teenage boy, though. That might help. He keeps his distance from the shelters and breakable things, including the people, hoping someone might come to him... he's so curious.

NPC : Lilah Gayle

[dawnofthenpcs]

She moves through the encampment with a sturdy wooden cane covered in runes. Lilah is not a small woman, and from first glance she is an imposing woman. All by intention. She does not have any air of weakness, despite the limp that she masks as she walks, the tattered and over-mended nature of her clothes, and the ragged and unkempt nature of the dark and greying locs of her hair that are pulled back into a bun away from her bony face. Being a weathered and worn skeleton doesn't mean she won't somewhat presentable.

These newcomers are not people she trusts immediately, perhaps especially because they have come with Héctor. He has always been a soft boy, too trusting and giving and Lilah has always known it would come to hurt him in the end. Too much softness has never done anyone any favors, as they all know well. The only benefit she can see if they will take the items of the Living off their hands and return it to where it belongs.

So she walks the camp, checking on the family, making sure they have what they need and if any of their runes that help maintain some of their supplies and even keep some of their bodies more joined than they might otherwise be... All while keeping an eye on these newcomers. If any of them come closer to her, she is not afraid to speak her mind or ask her own aggressive inquiries.

"What are your ultimate goals for this mission?"

Héctor | OTA

[unpocoloco]

a

"COUSIN HÉCTOR!!"

In moments he's slammed back, thrown to the ground by arms around his neck. Several more skeletons are piling on, leaving him laughing helplessly.

"Ow, ow! Watch my bones I'm still breakable!" He says, but he's soon embracing undead after undead. "Prima! Tía! Ay, ay, and mis sobrinos! Oh, come, come here!"

He's just getting to his knees, clambered on by at least two skeletal children, grinning wide. An older man comes and ruffles his hair, making him laugh and shoves. And then another one calls out, "You better have brought back a dress, Héctor!"

He lifts the little ones off his shoulders, "Ah, ha, time to get down, Tío Héctor's about to be in a liiiittle trouble..."

Not to mention, he's still got to worry about those he came here with. He grins back sheepishly.

"I'd... like to introduce mi familia?"

b

It's not long before he's pulled aside.

"Héctor," Starts that older woman, touching his shoulder. She points out to a makeshift shelter. He looks out to it, browbone furrowing before looking back to her.

"Go," is all she says and seeming to brace himself, he does. But no one is stopped from following.

He parts a curtain and heads inside. It's barebones, like everything and everyone at the encampment, but there's some cushioned seating set up, a few random belongings here and there, and a hammock. There are four others there already, a squat angry looking man who looks surprised to see Héctor, then like he's resisting a rant, but when greeted with "Hey Cheech", the man says nothing. One skeleton rises and leaves, not meeting Héctor's eyes, while the third kneels by the hammock, smoothing back the hair of the last. She looks up to see him and then simply moves aside, letting him take her place. A skeleton in a straw hat rests on the hammock, face strained. A flicker goes through his bones making him wince and reach out. And he finds Héctor's hand.

"...Kid?"

"...Hola Tío."

"'Supposed to be back home," The skeleton grunts.

"Working on that," He answers back, quiet.

"Better damn be." They both laugh. His other hand comes up to enclose the man's. Their bones are porous and old. Héctor's smile falls fast.

"...You can back with us now Tío. You don't have to stay out here. You can make it a little longer. You can go home too..." Yet even with his insistence, the skeleton flickers again and they both wince.

"It's time, Héctor. Ain't nothing gonna change that." He reaches up to his own head with his free hand. The straw hat comes off. It's held for a moment and then patted down upon Héctor's skull instead. "You take them home."

"Tío, please, I can't--"

"You don't need me. So don't say it. You still sing, don't you? What was that song..."

Héctor doesn't answer. But, given a pause, he starts to hum, muttering some tune under his breath. The skeleton starts to glow, the light getting brighter and brighter. Like Héctor's own transformations, the body starts to dissolve, only it doesn't change into anything this time. The man simply disappears. When Héctor's cupped hands open, the last bit of shimmering dust lifts and fades off. His hands drop down.


Eventually, he gets up. Adjusting the hat on his head, not looking at anyone, he walks back out to the group.

a

[spelleton]

"You're going to undo all that hard work I did to fix you up, you know," Ekkehardt says from nearby, making absolutely no effort to help Héctor up at all when he's getting tackled by several people at once. It's fine, that's just what families do.

B

[subconmodo]

He practically runs right into Avery, who stands not far from the entrance, his arms folded, scowling. "Going to tell anyone what that was about?"

A

[hawkwardness]

Gator vision is better than some might think, allowing him to watch what's happening to poor Héctor very well. And it's funny as hell. < That's weirdly one of the cutest things I've seen in a long time. >

Yes, that's the gator 'speaking'. It's not a sound, yet somehow where it's coming from is easy to pinpoint. Hopefully the skeleton crew realize he's a friend, not foe, and don't start running! Or worse, charging him.

A

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

The first tackle nearly gets Imelda to grab onto her husband, but the shout of familiarity keeps her from reacting in a purely defensive nature. There's a lot of tension in her shoulders that slowly eases as Héctor begins greeting these skeletons one by one. Her hand--which a moment ago had been hovering in the air to either grab Héctor or else brace him against the onslaught--falls away, and instead she crosses her arms over her chest and waits for the commotion to die down a little.

When he grins back at them sheepishly, Imelda lifts a brow at him. Then she looks out over the other undead and offers a smile. "Hola, it's a pleasure to finally meet my in-laws." She holds her hand out to the closest skeleton nearby, not even the slightest hesitation or discomfort showing.

what he takes is the plants - ota

[deuteranope]

[Maverick had been sticking to himself for the mostpart, after they stumbled upon the little shantytown of skeletons. It might not be the same bright colors and organized chaos as the land of the dead he'd seen in Héctor's dream, but having so many bones around out in the open... He catches himself pinching his arm a few times, and he's angry when he realizes that he's making sure his skin is still there.

Oh well. Even without his brief time as a skeleton, this trip would be uncomfortable for him, with his hesitance around nonhumans. They'd been human once, and Héctor was one of his favorite people unfortunately, but he has to keep reminding himself they're not just some pack of undead out for blood. Wandering off on his own -- never too far, knowing how easy it would be to get lost here even with his good sense of direction -- is the easiest way for him to treat that. He's delighted when this course of action rewards him with the sight of glowing plants.]

Oh, shit. [There they were. They were just THERE. Holy shit!!

Mav looks around, but it isn't long before he crouches down next to the marigold-lily hybrid to inspect it more closely, absorbed.] If I can just get... Maybe my hat if there's nothing else, but fuck, that's no fucking good...

[unpocoloco]

I can't believe your luck.

[Héctor has made his way to Maverick's side, kneeling down then to take in the sight of the flower himself. He's still bones. He usually tries not to be so when he's around Maverick or Imelda especially, but right now they're with his primos and he's got to be who (and what) he is.

There is an addition of a straw hat on his head, but besides that there's no sign that anything's happened.]

You took one chance out here and found one right away.

[He reaches out, lifting a leaf with his fingerbones. The glow of it seems to spark and twirl where he's made contact, lighting his bones just a little there.]

Might be able to borrow something off someone here if you want me to ask.

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

[While Imelda seems fully at ease around these skeleton creatures, she's not unaware that there are others on this expedition that might not be holding up so well. So she can't help but notice when Maverick separates from the group a little.]

[She gives him a sideways sort of look, peering around him to assess what seems to have caught his rapt attention.] Find something interesting, mijo?

OTA

[inkedspell]

He was there, and then he wasn't. Sarona had been talking to one of the older skeletons, or she thought he was older, it's hard to tell when they're already dead and so obviously warn down. Weathered leather vest, what little bit of hair he had left pulled into a rat tail in the back, and one of his arms shorter than the other, as if it had been broken and never healed right. He had seemed curious enough about her hair, and considering most people assumed it was some kind of dye--and weren't entirely wrong--but he'd thought it was fascinating.

Then the talk had turned to tattoos and Sarona had known she'd found one of her kindred.

She's walked away only long enough get her pack so she could show off notes for her rune tattoos but when she walked back to his little spot by one of the tents...he was gone. There were sparkles in the air as if being blown on the wind and Marco gone like he'd walked away.

"Hey, did anyone see where Marco went?"

No one seemed surprised or confused by the question, but she wasn't getting much of an answer either. That seemed like answer enough and Sarona wasn't sure she liked what that meant.

[unpocoloco]

"Marco?" The voice comes from Héctor. Any other time he might have followed through with a Marco-polo joke, but not this time. Still, he responds with a seemingly pleasant mood. (He's donned a straw hat at some point in all this too.)

"What did you need him for, Saronita? Maybe I can help!"

Help instead, but not help search...