Outside 48: Hotter than Inside

[Rebonack]

[Waylaid Tours]
Hector

You wave the shadowy claws surrounding your hand through the brambles and they simply part like a curtain. Just as easily you slip through and pull them shut behind you.

Simple.

Easy as that.

As you take a few steps forward the manacles around your neck, wrists, and ankles dissolves into darkness as the shadow-aura surrounding you sinks back into your shadow.

But...

Your shadow is different now. Your shadow isn't human at all. It resembles a wolfman with manacles clapped onto it. Everywhere your shadow falls, other shadows deepen. Almost as if ethereal oil were left in your wake. Aside from its canine form, it really doesn't much resemble the beast you found slain in the thicket. This isn't merely the shadow of some other beast. This is the shadow of you as a beast. You can feel your shadow stalking along with you. You can feel it mimicking your every motion. You can feel its hunger for meat seasoned with raw terror. It is you. It is part of you.

You aren't to the end of the thicket. Not by half. As you trek deeper you come to a split in the path. The middle way slopes downward, cobblestones becoming visible again and the occasional grave stone poking out of the brambles. The left path slopes up. Quite steeply in fact. Up a winding series of switchbacks through the hedge, stone monoliths sticking out of the earth here and there, tessellating triangles carved into them. A bright, cold, white light shines from the top of the hill. The right path is level, though the brambles grow thicker. You would have to crawl to take that passage. Somehow the idea of walking on all fours doesn't strike you as at all strange.

In the distance far behind you, you can hear the snarling and thrashing of the horror against the brambles.

What do you do?

Leah

With mounting horror you turn to flee, only to discover that the path back is blocked.

Time's arrow moves in only one direction here.

In fear, you back away from the slowly spiraling crystals, and bump into the statue of yourself. You feel something shift. Something crack. When you turn again the statue lays in a heap before you like so much ruined porcelain. The crystals have all dissolved, leaving the remains half-submerged in a pool of colour that's threatening to run over your feet. Dancing around the puddle you retrieve part of the statue.

A face.

A mask of absolute horror.

Whatever you experienced in your last moments, it was something your were trying to hide your eyes from. Considering the ruined, chipped sockets from which crystals had grown, you likely failed.

Lethally.

Scratched into the stony flesh of your face, likely with your own nails, are the words 'one way'.

Underlined. With an arrow.

Should you examine your statue's arms you'll find similar scratchings.

The inside of the mask is covered in the same dizzying colour as the pools, though hardened and solid like mother of pearl.

Then?

You try to commune.

It comes in flashes.

Standing at the crossroads holding her own face.
The song so blinding she can hardly see.
Something shifting, what is it?
The sound of shattering, breaking the silence.
What is it? Oh gods oh gods oh gods stay away! I don't want to die I don't want to die plea-

The mask crumbles in your hands.

The song crescendos and your vision is filled with swimming colour. For the first time you can discern words.


I see you.
Walking the winding way.
I see you.
Holding the echoes at bay.
I see you.
Crumbling away in fear.
I see you.
In every song you'll never hear.
I see you.
I see ALL of you.
Will you see me?

OPEN YOUR EYES.

The song is nearly overwhelming.

You could, perhaps, try to fight your way through it.

Or run blindly down one of the paths.

Or... or you could obey.

What do you do?

[Reinholdt]

[Waylaid Tours]
Leah

One way? Which way?! Who wrote this? Her? How? What was happening? How can she hear color? How can she see music?!

Dropping the crumbling ashes of the statue she steps forward once, slamming her foot into the ground and thrusting up a thick packing of earth. The rock covers her eyes, molding with it to keep her sight completely blind, to block out the light, as she blindly runs towards the statue path. The other path was full of the music, of the colors, of the pools. It was just made more sense to run this way.
...
As she had a hundred times before.

She stops after just a mere few steps. Rachel always told her she needed to back down once in a while. To bend instead of going until Leah or the person she was arguing with broke. Maybe... Maybe she had to... try something her sisters would do instead.

Terrified, nearly at the breaking point, and with the beginning of tears in her eyes, she pulled the earth off and opened her eyes. Obeying the song, looking to see it, despite every instinct that screamed at her not to.

[5a Violista]

[Waylaid Tour]
Carlie

The bunnygirl watches the fish-eel-thing crawl away.

Once it's gone, she shivers again. That's...
...
She can't describe how that made her feel.

So, Carlie returns her knife to its rightful place in her forearm, then continues along the path. Every so often, she tries reconnecting some nerves for her sense of smell, bit by bit, trying to return some of her sense of smell without the smell of fish yet. It'll take a while to do this, so...she'll only have a few random ones here and there. Nothing really helpful yet.

The shapeshifter/bunnygirl arrives at the idol. It's...well, an octopus isn't quite as bad as a fish, but it's pretty similar. For only a moment, she checks her hair and her ears while looking at the idol, trying to decide what to do. She figures there's only two options: the stairs, or...there appears to be people over there.

Obviously going up the stairs is the wrong answer, she figures. Blind corners, those holes in the wall - if what she suspects is true, tentacles will come out of them and grab her. And then the stairs will turn slick and sloped, or something. In other words, obviously the wrong choice.

Again, obviously, going towards the firelight is the best option. If there's people there, that means one of three things: First, similar to that eerie eel-thing, they'll...be willing to talk. Probably try to convince her of something, but at the very least she can learn more about where she is and where she needs to go. Second, there's actually a good chance other riders of the bus are there - if they saw a fire, they'd probably head there, too. Third, there's a very good chance the people chanting are one of the three factions. She'll be able to see exactly how dangerous they are.

She says a quick prayer in her mind to her god, and then starts sneaking towards the fire. As she does so, she uses some camouflage - after all, if they spot her, before she gets a chance to see and overhear, then it'd be practically a waste coming in this direction. She alters her skin and hair color and texture to fit with the sand, stone, and shadows. Her scent changes to closer match salty water. Her body temperature - at least on the surface - drops...she's not sure which senses these things will use, but she's hoping to cover the most common bases first.

[Hattish Thing]

River Delta

Here, far from civilization, a young man wanders this particular patch of countryside with a rather unpleasant expression from his face. Untidy locks of chestnut hair fly back in his face as he trudges forward, cold wind all but scraping at his sharp and strangely proportioned features. As he fights against the cold, he clutches at a charcoal colored poncho, ensuring that the black feathers which lined the poncho were pressed close to his neck and lower face. Eerie totems and fetishes hang from the figure's sleeves, neck, and belt, and his long, thin legs end in tattered frills and black boots.

A large, noisy crow rests upon his shoulder, while another flies overhead.

"This is dumb. No plant is worth this."

"Cold. Want to go home. Home's warm. Isn't that right, bird?" In response, the crow at his shoulder squawks noisily.

--

Spoiler: Portrait:

Show

[Rebonack]

[Waylaid Tours]
Leah

You open your eyes and see.
You see her.
You see all of her.

Words escape the vision before you. How would you even begin to describe it? Where would you even start? Beautiful, maybe? Sublime? Descriptions slide off her like water from a lotus leaf just as tears slide down your cheeks.

Awe.

That's the word you're looking for.

That eerie confluence where absolute wonder and absolute terror meet. That's what you're feeling.

And that's a strange thing to feel. Because you're certain, absolutely certain, that what you now gaze upon is just as much you as the porcelain face you had held in your hands moments ago.

And hours ago.

And days ago.

And years ago.

What does time even mean in a place like this?

A possible you, maybe. A future you? A potential you? But how would you reach yourself? How do you make the you that you are now into... her?

One Way.

YOU SEE ME.
YOU SEE YOURSELF.
FACE THE MIRROR.

And then the music fades until it's little more than a pleasant background hum.

You can see again. You wipe the tears from your cheek and your fingers come away covered in colour.

This is not alarming.

This is Correct.

The two paths still stand before you. But now you face them with the knowledge that at least one of you won't be reduced to a husk. Maybe that one is you?

What do you do?

Carlie

The horrid idol is horrid. You give it a cursory glance, then decide that it is almost, but not quite, as bad as fish.

Then you move off toward the sounds of chanting, but not before disguising yourself.

That's good.

They will be less likely to notice you.

And you're likely quite glad that they're less likely to notice you, because when you peer around the corning you'll spy a great bonfire blazing in the middle of a large chamber. Before the fire stands another horrid monument. This one combines all the worst parts of a deep sea hag fish, a human, a giant sea louse, and some sort of carrion bird. The sight of the people dancing before the fire isn't much better as you immediately regret returning your sense of smell.

The scent of fish assails you again.

For these are, sadly, fish people.

Bulging eyes.

Flaring gills.

Webbed hands and feet.

Mucus covered scales and fins.

They appear to be carrying another bound person, one that looks like they're part salamander, toward the flames while whooping and gurgling.

There's another tunnel beyond them. A tunnel through which you can see daylight.

You might be able to sneak past them. Or perhaps stay and observe what looks to be a sacrifice in the near future. Or maybe you could rescue the salamander person from their awful fate? They don't look to be the sort of salamander that likes fire.

What do you do?

[Reinholdt]

[Waylaid Tours]
Leah?

One of us became her. Is her? Will become her? She was that Leah. Is that Leah. Can be that Leah.

What was there to be afraid of?

Everything.

Nothing.

The her in the mirror. The her of color. She was who we needed to be.
Maybe...
Maybe she was who Leah would be. The lucky Leah. The beautiful, terrible, colorful Leah.

Smiling at the correctness of her tears, Leah strives forward, towards the path lacking statues, still terrified. Terrified that she would not be her. That she would be the husk, not the mirror. That the color would leave her in mineral spirals. But also unafraid. If it would not be her, then it would be another. The uncertain destiny had been written in stone.

[Deathkeeper]

[Waylaid Tours- Hector]

Hector finds himself wary about going anywhere with an especially bright light after what he just did to himself. He also does not like graveyards. You never know what you might find in a graveyard, especially with horrors running amok.
Speaking of, he would very much like to continue being as difficult for that horror to find as possible. So obviously he should take the most annoying path for a big monster to take. So he takes the small route. And only after he has done so does he realize how little he stopped to consider the fact that he has to go on all fours to do so. Well. He doubts that will be a problem unless this ends up being a dead end.

[Shadowcaller]

[New Inside - Castilla]

Ilpholin frowns. She shouldn't be surprised really. It wasn't the hardest to figure out. The people here should already know how to get there and half the other questions she was asking.

"I'm the enemy of all angel marked, Ilpholin Xar'cha. With your help, hopefully I can figure out what they were after and ambush them. I want to make sure they can never hurt anyone ever again."

[A meeting place]

Arkant listens, but shows no signs of regret or other emotions.

"You are right. I just wanted to point it out since it appeared a bit... off. After all I can't be save to talk to the person I'm about to meet unless I got at least something to connect him with, right? Don't get me wrong, but this vessel you use is hardly something that could be connected to you. Fairytales, and economy have taken it and sold it to the mass. So you do understand my questioning."
He pauses. This happened to be harder then he thought but when do stuff get easy?
"For once I would like to know what your deal is with that person we met. And befor you answer that I think you might tell me your price, since I am not going into this blind. I think you know what i mean."

[New Inside - Castilla]

"Uhu, OK. Whatever." The pixie falls silent for a moment. "The problem... the problem is that I don't know where 'here' is in relation to my home. Maybe if you got me out of here, I could show you? I mean, you convinced these people to let you in and talk to me, right? So you could probably convince them to let me go too."

[A meeting place]

"I'm afraid I don't really do personal meetings. I'll appear in circles, or really any geometric shapes you want, but I don't show up in the flesh. Kind of a... policy of mine." The pumpkin explains as it move up and down in the air like it was floating in water. Continually grinning at Arkant. "As for the price, most people consider them rather generous. I usually ask for information regardless of the service asked of me which many are more than willing to give up. But there are all sorts of clauses and adjustments one can make one these. For instance, the clause that gurantees that I don't sell on whatever information you give me to others, but such information is considered less valuable of course. Really, you should just state what sort of problem you have and I'll evaluate the information you would have to share with me for that to work out. However, in order to ensure that the information is truthful, I usually ask my clients to share it directly through their minds. Like thought reading except you can't lie through it. It just ensures that both sides are honest in their commitment to the deal as I'm sure you understand."

[5a Violista]

[Waylaid Tours]
Carlie

What does she do?

Since rescuing the salamander would put two of her priorities in conflict - that of remaining uninvolved and that of finding someone who can help her - she, of course, knows that finding someone who can help her is priority. That's what she wants to do.

What she actually does?

Carlie immediately regrets her sense of smell. She immediately shuts it back off - emergency brakes. She swears it's not usually this bad, it's just that she's still feeling nauseated from the bus. Or maybe she's sick. One of those, for sure.

The reflex has already been triggered, however. She starts dry heaving several times. Sure, she could try to disconnect that reflex just like she did her sense of smell, but making changes without understanding what exactly she's doing is a terrible idea.

Eventually, the attempted vomiting stops.

She seriously hopes that didn't give her position away or make it too late to rescue the salamander.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Hillside Rambling]

Even kindly Vivi has to stop and think about this one. What do you say to something like that?

"What are we all if not some gods nascent thought," Vivi intones. "I knew a sage who used to say that. Perhaps Sylvess did birth you from his mind... but dragons..." She has to pause there. "Dragons are intensely magical creatures. You are something more than a passing fancy. That is how I feel it. That is what you feel like to me."

[Hillside Rambling]

After a moment, a quiet "Thank you." Although Lucy by no means looks relieved. "I like to think I'm real too. But- but this is still his body. And he needs it. His mate is worried about me or one of the others taking him away for days at a time when he'd have children to look after."

...

"Did- did I mention there were others? I-it's, um, it's quite...crowded, in here."

[Ionbound]

[Waylaid Tours-Gwyn]

Gwyn's eyes dart between the horrible and the ghul, then to the exit, then back to the two and she makes an Executive Decision to help the ghul. She takes a deep breath, then shouts, "Gwaywffon wedi'i rewi!" thrusting a hand forwards. From her outstretched hand projects a long, thin, sharp icicle, which launches itself at the horrible monster.

As soon as the spell begins it's flight, Gwyn drops her arm and takes a couple more deep breaths, trying to quickly regain stamina, just in case the Ghul also isn't friendly. Just in case.

[Rebonack]

[Nightmare Forest]

Lapis bristles at the sight of the thing.

It looks... odd.

Like those scales she's covered in might be feathers, too. And she's poofing herself up like an owl trying to look threatening.

"Well who asked you?" she growls at the rock snake, trying to figure out whether or not she's going to have to bite this thing.

She would rather not.

It looks very large and might squish her.

Lapis doesn't want to be squished.


[Waylaid Tours]
Dave

You step away from the zombie and off the road. The fungal beds are thick here, toadstools brushing up against you. Your foot strikes a worryingly large puffball, causing a cloud of thick brown-black spores to waft into the air around you. In spite of the unpleasantness you fire again, the round striking true and causing the zombie to flop over backwards. The yellow tendrils of slime stop pumping. The abomination goes still.

The forest is quiet again, save for the distant murmur of unseen beasts.

The lock-box still lays discarded. The corpse of the carriage still languishes. The path forward still waits.

What do you do?

Leah

It's something of a comfort, isn't it? Knowing you already left a past self behind so many time before. Even if you fail, one of you doesn't. All the husks you've seen were in different places and subtly different poses. So there MUST be differences between the timelines. You just have to hope that you're the right timeline.

The correct one.

And... maybe if you aren't?

Maybe even then the vision of yourself that you saw... maybe that you could somehow save all the other yous? It's a comforting thought, at least.

A name tickles at the back of your mind. Ohlamel. A way hidden, concealed, ancient, waiting, stretching over the horizon into a thousand thousand unseen tomorrows.

One way.

At the name a well of power blossoms within you. Space sings at your touch. Time hums its melody. Motion strums the strings of reality itself. Shape folds the song in on itself into an infinitely spiraling anthem. Tapping that power, you could change what is into what ought to be. But you can feel it is limited. Twice, perhaps, and you would be exhausted. You would need time to seek the colour of song again. But if time yields to you so naturally, how much of a barrier is that?

Possibility dancing in your mind, you stride onto the path overtaken by colour.

The pools don't feel quite as foreboding now, though they are tacky under your feet. The garden here is thick and overgrown, spiraling crystals having consumed the landscape. Someone should really tend to them. Could you, maybe? Soon you come upon a mausoleum, once white in marble and granite, but now a riot of colour coats it. Helical crystals protrude from its surface, glittering in the eerie twilight. There's also another you. She's found a length of rusted iron somewhere, and she's trying to wedge it between the mausoleum's doors to pry it open. The crystals crusting the door make this difficult, and she seems unwilling to touch them.

The other you looks completely engrossed in her task. The path continues on past the mausoleum, sloping steadily upward until it reaches a flight of stairs ascending a hillside.

You could help her. Stop her. Or ignore her and continue on your way, likely without being noticed. She's quite intent.

What do you do?

Hector

As you slip into the briar tunnel you feel the weight on neck, wrists, and ankles again. You hear the wattle of the chains. Your shadow envelopes you again, a great black wolf surrounding you, its pads pressing against the forest floor, heedless of the thorns. You can feel the brambles pulling against your spectral fur, but that's fine. You're tough. You lope through the thicket as quickly as you dare, ears twitching at the sounds of the forest. You can hear something struggling up ahead, your predatory instincts leaping for joy.

Prey.

You smell prey.

Fearful, terrified prey.

Ahead you spy a stag, its antlers caught in the thicket. Finding untouched flesh like this doesn't happen often in this accursed forest. Something that isn't rotting, or worse, ossified is no small feat. Your mouth waters.

You could kill this stag and devour it. It wouldn't be able to escape. Easy prey. Or you could recoil in horror at these inhuman impulses and free the terrified animal. Or you could push aside both mercy and hunger and simply be on your way.

What do you do?

Carlie

You don't choose to stand and watch.

Your body chooses for you.

As you fight back the heaves the chanting reaches a crescendo as a fish-person plunges a gold dagger into the salamander-person's heart. An awful, keening cry fills the air as the amphibian thrashes, growing rapidly weaker. The fish all dip their clammy hands in the salamander's blood. As it stills it is tossed into the flames. Your nose, thankfully, is not assaulted by the scent of burning salamander flesh. The three fish people begin glubbing and babbling while the one with the most elaborate hat (it appears to be a dead sea-bass worn on top of its head) holds the dagger aloft. You can see the crimson-on-gold shimmering in the firelight.

Those retching sounds DO appear to have caused a problem, however. The fish with a dagger points in your direction and the other two begin heading toward you.

Flee? Fight? Try to reason with them? Maybe they didn't actually spot you. Maybe they're coming in this direction out of pure happenstance?

What do you do?

Gwyn

There comes a meaty thunk as the spear of ice digs into the horror, drawing from it an absolutely inhuman shriek. The ghul darts in again, ramming his spear into the monstrosity and giving it a wicked twist. The horror responds to this by mashing the ghoul into paste. Now enraged at your audacity, the mountain of anger and death begins awkwardly skittering toward you with an almost insect-like swiftness. Nothing should be able to move that fast.

But about half way to you it... falters.

It's trying to lift itself up again, but it appears to be having great difficulty.

Do you finish the monster off? It is probably beyond diplomacy now that you attacked it, but you could try. Or? You could just flee for your life.

What do you do?

[bc56]

Waylaid Tours - Dave

The lockbox. There must be something valuable inside. That must be what the rogue was guarding. Dave examines it. What shape is the mechanism in? How does it work? Will he need to find a passcode? It shouldn't be too difficult to open, once he's got some details to work with.

[Deathkeeper]

[Waylaid Tours- Hector]

Hector growls, but it’s at himself instead of the stag. Stupid shadowy impulses. He can’t go just eating random animals in the woods. Without proper cooking he’ll only end up with parasites or something horrible and gross in his meal. He doesn’t trust anything in these woods.
Hector slashes at the brambles with his shadowy claws. Let the creature go. Nothing deserves to die in this awful place, except maybe the horrors. Though the most he expects the stag to accomplish is distracting one of said horrors away from himself.
Either way, that done he can continue on his way.

[Rebonack]

[Waylaid Tours]
Dave

The lock-box appears to require a key to open it. The mechanism, however, isn't very sturdy. You could probably wedge the dagger into the box and pry it open. That would ruin the box and possible run the dagger as well, but you would have whatever is inside.

Or.

You could search for the key.

The key is probably somewhere nearby...

...right?

Maybe inside the coach. Or on the rogue's person? The rogue is covered in that revolting slime, however. It looks unpleasant and smells even worse.

Find the key? Force the lock? Or maybe give up on these aimless shinanagins and press on? The hamlet shouldn't be far now.

What do you do?

Hector

The stag is freed.

It scrambles off through the thicket in a mad panic. Somehow, miraculously, it manages to avoid shredding itself on the briars. You feel... something akin to longing. The impression of looking down on a dog pouting because you won't give him a treat.

We need to eat eventually. If I waste away it won't be good for either of us. We need fear. And meat.

It isn't much longer before you find yourself clambering out of the hedge and onto the old road, still as pitted and slick as ever. A decrepit looking sign stands near the edge of the road pointing to the west.

To the Hamlet.

There, see? You're getting closer. Surely once you reach the Hamlet everything will be just fine. No more danger. No more horrors. Just a normal, quaint little town. In the middle of this accursed forest. You start trotting down the road, chains dragging against the cobblestones. The cold and damp feels slimy against your foot-pads, but you can endure it. This is nothing compared to crawling through thorns. As you go, you feel the temperature around you begin to drop precipitously, your hot breath fogging in front of your muzzle. The cold is like a dagger, cutting through your thick fur and coat as if it weren't even there. You begin to shiver. Hadn't it gotten cold right before the bus crashed into that... Thing? You seem to recall that was the case.

There is... a presence.

A formless malevolence hanging over the road like fog.

Your hackles raise along your back and a growl vibrates your throat.

The Thing That Hunts. It's stalking the road. We have to hide or it'll kills us.

Casting your gaze around quickly, you spy several possibilities. An old fallen stump lays overturned near the side of the road. There's a hollow inside it you could squeeze into. The spiders wouldn't blame you for it. A thick patch of reeds growing out of a boggy mire. You could lip down into the mud and water, crouch among the reeds. Surely the leeches wouldn't mind the company. And old mausoleum stands nearby, its iron gate open. You could slip inside it and cower in the darkness with the corpses. The heartbeat of the living wouldn't offend the ghosts.

Or.

In a fit of madness.

You could choose to face the Thing.

What do you do?

[Deathkeeper]

Waylaid Tours- Hector

Hector bolts for the stump immediately, for no reason other than it being the first hiding spot he sees. He has no interest in meeting the thing that turned a bus into carry-able pieces. So into the hollow he goes, squeezing as best he can and shutting his eyes in panic as he desperately waits for a sign that the Thing is gone.

[bc56]

Waylaid Tour - Dave

The knife could pry it open. But it's a nice knife, and his only weapon besides the revolver with only three shots left. The sword looks usable still. It might make a good lever. Maybe even better than the knife, it is larger and heavier after all. Dave grabs the sword, finds a heavy object to wedge the box under, a rock or tree branch or fragment of the carriage. It doesn't really matter what. He jams the point of the sword into the gap of the lid of the box and pushes down. Hopefully that will snap it right open.

[Rebonack]

[Waylaid Tours]
Hector

You dive into the stump, wriggling as far in as you possibly can without getting stuck. Your shadowy canine form is, after all, a bit on the large side. You run face-first through several cobwebs as you go.

Spiders are crawling in your fur.

But nothing more troublesome than that.

In absolute darkness there is only the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

Silence.

Stillness.

Biting cold.

A minute passes.

Two.

Five.

Ten.

The cold gradually abates. The muffled, dead stillness over the forest lifts. You can hear the cawing of the crows and the droning of the insects again. The howls of inhuman things unseen in the woods. Whatever that Thing was, it has passed. You wriggle your way out of the log, spiders still crawling around frantically in your shadowy fur. It's safe now. Or... at least as safe as this accursed forest can ever get. Down the road you go and then, all at once, sunlight.

The Hamlet stretches before you.

A slow, rolling landscape of gentle hills and farms. Further, a small town full of bustling activity. Down by the water's edge a wharf is occupied with small ships. Fishing vessels, it would appear. Then the terrain rises sharply, up to a precipice overlooking the sea atop which is perched a grand, Gothic castle. The sea breeze carries the scent of sheep, goats, and cows to your twitching nose. The scent of humans. The smell of terror. The smell of prey. As you stalk forward you suddenly recoil moments before crossing the threshold between forest and farmland.

There are metal posts driven into the earth all along the forest's edge. Upon them is etched a symbol. A three pointed crown below a crescent, five rays extending from it. Try as you might, you can't cross.

It suddenly occurs to you that you're wrapped in your shadow and anyone who sees you would see a enormous black wolfdog the size of a small horse. That might cause undue distress among the villagers. You have... options. You could step out of your shadow and let it depart from you. You could enter the Hamlet, but your shadow would be left behind. It would search for a way to cross the threshold and rejoin you, but there's no telling how long that would take. Being seen without a shadow might attract undue attention. Or you could deface one of the symbols. With it broken your shadow could cross and rejoin you, but that would leave the Hamlet open to the denizens of the forest creeping in.

Denizens like you.

Or...

You could accept that you aren't part of civilization any longer and slink back into the woods. There's plenty of game to eat. And while animal terror isn't quite as filling as human fear, it could sustain you.

What do you do?

Dave

A sword and a stone open the way.

With a snap the lockbox pops open.

And with a dry, coughing moan the armored knight staggers to his feet. It wheezes and sputters, spores drifting from its visor. Another reanimated corpse appears intent on causing you harm. Thankfully it is so sluggish that it hasn't had any opportunity to assault you just yet, aside from assaulting your nose with its noxious aroma.

Fight? Flee? Become exasperated with all this nonsense? You could probably just quickly drag the lock-box away from the cadaver, loot its contents, and then slip away. It isn't moving very quickly.

What do you do?

[bc56]

Waylaid Tour - Dave

The knight too?
Dave sees that he's slowly staggering to his feet, not rising quickly like the rogue was. That armor must be heavy. How about he helps it along. He rushes at the knight and attempts to kick him right in the center of mass. If he's brought down, he can be dealt with without wasting ammo. That rock he used on the lockbox should do the trick.

[Deathkeeper]

[Waylaid Tours- Hector]

Hector finds this an easy choice. He stands up and crosses the threshold without his shadow. He will be happy to be rid of it and its unsettling urging for a while anyway. And if they question him, he can just tell them that something in the forest took his shadow and beg their assistance. It will even be true; he’ll just mean their fence.
Sadly he doesn’t have any way to look a little more presentable as he enters, though. He feels sorely in need of a warm bath and some towels.

[Lady Serpentine]

[Waylaid Tours]
Lucy

The idol looms over Lucy, oddly monstrous (in a very literal way) and far more threatening than a simple thing of wood and bones has any right to be. It also seems, from her perspective, to be rather bigger than it actually is. Which is why she scrambles backwards moments after opening her eyes! Although she does recognize that this is perhaps a silly reaction to something that doesn't seem to be alive, once she takes a moment to give it a second look. It's hard to dispel that looming sense of presence, though, even when she knows it's just a creepy statue.

It would be easier if the forest hadn't just appeared. She would be complaining that she hadn't signed up for a horror tour and she wanted her money back, because she hadn't agreed to any of this. She doesn't think that the bus company could just summon a forest to use as a special effect, though. Not even in Outside! Not on command like that, at least. They probably could have made one in advance that the bus would have to drive into, if they'd wanted to. But this? It's really hard to believe that this is intentional. Or faked, which is the much more distressing part of that.

(She can totally believe that this is part of someone's plan, even if the bus being involved is an accident.)

The emergency door is even worse than the idol, given that. If this is real, then that means that whatever left those claw marks in it is real too.

The crypt beckons her towards it, the firelight shining in its depths promising safety and warmth. But she doesn't trust that very much. This idol has torches around it too, and it's definitely not safe. Although it seems a lot better than the path. The path looks very much like it's been used by the Thing she saw, or at least claimed as part of its territory, and that would probably be even less safe than the spooky tomb she's probably standing in front of right now. Or rather, the thing she's standing in front of that is probably a spooky tomb. (It's definitely spooky. But she doesn't know if anyone is buried there or not.)

There is, however, one other consideration. The blood that she's smelling isn't hers, and it is fresher further into the clearing. That means that there might be someone in trouble that way! And Lucy is supposed to be a doctor. Well, she isn't yet. But she's planning to be one. Eventually. Assuming that her classes work out! Which they are, so far. She thinks. Probably. But that isn't the point at all right now. She has considerably more pressing considerations than her class schedule, for once!

(Yesterday she would have thought that would be a welcome change.)

That doesn't keep her from hesitating before she picks up the dagger from the altar and sets off further into the clearing, of course. Cultists are scary when they might actually be real and also sacrificing people to entirely-too-creepy idols. But it does mean she actually goes that way instead of trying to hide in the crypt or flee into the forest before the Thing returns. (Which she's actually kind of proud of, if she thinks about it. She managed to be brave, in her first really awful situation. There are a lot of people who can't say that.)

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

As much of a mistake as ignoring Zee's advice and traipsing off into a doom dungeon while you're already magically fatigued?

That sort of mistake, Xeni?

All you had to do was go home and give Karaglen a hug. It would have been great.

Now you're- well. Something is still trying to hug you, Xeni. Just not in a very nice way.

Then biting!

And ribbon!

The ribbon lashes around the horror and partly crushes it. To which it reacts by doing... gosh. It's doing something. That's for sure. Vibrating? Maybe's it is vibrating. That isn't quite right though. For a brief, mind-bending moment it appears as if the rabbit thing is both ensnared and not-ensnared at the same time. Then the moment passes and the VERY not-ensnared rabbit thing is trying to give Xeni a really aggressive hug again. Getting said hug would be painful and unpleasant but not particularly lethal.

Okay, so Zee-spawn aren't always entirely married to concept of rational three dimensional movement/existence. That probably shouldn't have been a surprise.
Which means it's back to trying to aggress its way through his robe and general body health.
Awesome.

Fire doesn't seem to have a great result, restraint has a...negligible(?) result, there's no immediate guarantee that other elements or the like are going to be any better...
Xeni tries to go down a mental checklist of easy options, while doing his best to keep any of the bitey or spikier bits away from his face, but it really is challenging. It isn't generally easy to focus when something is trying to eat you.

Maybe it's this that leads him to yet another stupid idea, probably worse than the one that led him to getting tackled in the first place.
Maybe he can twist what he did, exposing himself out to that terrible realm of dreams and fae...but to the Rabbit Thing instead.
It's already on him, in contact. Shouldn't be that hard to redirect the spell. And really, this is an advancement on the science here that he hasn't had a good test subject for anyway.

Doing this would probably be easier if he had concrete knowledge of how this sort of magic worked in the first place, rather than what he's been stumbling through and whatever his mind has been fabricating up to make sense of things.
He's pretty sure that whole smooth-and-smeary tapestry thing he's been seeing isn't real or accurate, but is some vague approximation his mind has whipped up.

So the best Xeni can think to do here is expand his mind Out a bit, back to that mentally straining and painful place again, and then just see if he can sort of...jerk the rabbit along for the ride. Like some sort of weird astral projection mixed with an aggressive summoning except not really at all this magic is freaking weird.

[5a Violista]

[Waylaid Tours]
Carlie

What?
No.
They obviously spotted her.

Carlie stands up properly and raises her hands in front of her, palms out. "H-Hi," she says. She decides to end her camouflage and just return her skin, etc, back to normal so that it doesn't take any more of her concentration and she doesn't have to worry about it. Also, that neurotoxin she's been producing? She forgot to shut that off earlier. She does that, too, for the same reason and because these things look like they'll be far more likely to stab her than bite her.

Maybe she can convince them she's not a problem? "I - I came from back over that way, after my bus crashed. Maybe you guys could help me?" If they try to grab her, she won't resist for now. If they're grabbing her, she could come up with a way to inject the neurotoxin...or something. But first she has to figure out if they're going to try to stab her, or what they want.

While waiting for them, she also considers other possible weapons she could use. Obviously, the knife that's hidden. The sand on the ground? Kicking that could help in case that guy with the dagger tries to stab her and her arms are held. Obviously, the fire makes for a good weapon as well, but they'd have to bring her closer to it first.

[Earl of Purple]

Bufopolis

Emily doesn't really have any evidence it was confined to this village, there might be others nearby worse affected. Or not affected at all, due to better medical technology or reliable magical healing. Or they might simply have quarantined themselves until it runs its course, and therefore aren't telling anyone.

"It's fine. Ya weren't ta know. Yer not from 'round 'ere." Mrs. Glubbholdt reaches out to pat Emily's arm reassuringly. Her skin is cold and clammy. "G'back to de party. Dere' 'ostin' it fer ya. 'Ave some frog. Best frog ya ever ate." She smiles, and turns to head back inside, her probably-a-baby starting to squirm.

Waylaid Tour Birdwatcher

All the cawing makes the Twitcher jump, but she'll take a photograph of the murder anyway. Ooh, that's a distressing thought. Hopefully they don't make that particular name true today.

"Thank you. There was an accident. I think. I was on a bus, but it... crashed? Maybe? I don't know. I was unconscious, I think. I woke up on this tree." She doesn't have a watch, and she's just realised she has no idea how long she was out for. It might have been days since the accident; the others might all be rescued in Riverside, her family mourning her at an empty grave. She walks in anyway, and looks around to sit down. "My name's Aelid. It means 'beauty' in Manx. Not Eyelid." She's heard the jokes, and the taunts. They're not funny, never have been. "I like your house. Very... cosy." She smiles brightly, and tries to get a better look at her host.

[Reinholdt]

[Waylaid Tours]
Leah

It's something of a comfort, isn't it? Knowing you already left a past self behind so many time before. Even if you fail, one of you doesn't. All the husks you've seen were in different places and subtly different poses. So there MUST be differences between the timelines. You just have to hope that you're the right timeline.

The correct one.

And... maybe if you aren't?

Maybe even then the vision of yourself that you saw... maybe that you could somehow save all the other yous? It's a comforting thought, at least.

A name tickles at the back of your mind. Ohlamel. A way hidden, concealed, ancient, waiting, stretching over the horizon into a thousand thousand unseen tomorrows.

One way.

At the name a well of power blossoms within you. Space sings at your touch. Time hums its melody. Motion strums the strings of reality itself. Shape folds the song in on itself into an infinitely spiraling anthem. Tapping that power, you could change what is into what ought to be. But you can feel it is limited. Twice, perhaps, and you would be exhausted. You would need time to seek the colour of song again. But if time yields to you so naturally, how much of a barrier is that?

Possibility dancing in your mind, you stride onto the path overtaken by colour.

The pools don't feel quite as foreboding now, though they are tacky under your feet. The garden here is thick and overgrown, spiraling crystals having consumed the landscape. Someone should really tend to them. Could you, maybe? Soon you come upon a mausoleum, once white in marble and granite, but now a riot of colour coats it. Helical crystals protrude from its surface, glittering in the eerie twilight. There's also another you. She's found a length of rusted iron somewhere, and she's trying to wedge it between the mausoleum's doors to pry it open. The crystals crusting the door make this difficult, and she seems unwilling to touch them.

The other you looks completely engrossed in her task. The path continues on past the mausoleum, sloping steadily upward until it reaches a flight of stairs ascending a hillside.

You could help her. Stop her. Or ignore her and continue on your way, likely without being noticed. She's quite intent.

What do you do?

[Waylaid Tours]
Leah

Ohlamel.

What ought to be. One way. The correct possibility of a thousand thousands. Seek Ohlamel and become the Leah of all Leahs. There is one way.

It is comforting.

Truly I have been blessed. With knowledge? Power? Reality? All accurate. All fail to properly describe the colour of song. How could one ever hope to describe it?

One way.

Another Leah. Trying to open the doors to a mausoleum. Why? I can't imagine... no... I can. I just don't know which way Leah was on. I should help. Perhaps all of us together must reach the way to become ourselves. It is a possibility. There are many.

I step over, smiling at myself. With a nod, I place my hand on the Helical crystals, the colours, and close my eyes. I ask them with my song, the song of the earth, to shift just to the left. Just to the right. Just enough to free the door.

[New Inside - Castilla]

"Uhu, OK. Whatever." The pixie falls silent for a moment. "The problem... the problem is that I don't know where 'here' is in relation to my home. Maybe if you got me out of here, I could show you? I mean, you convinced these people to let you in and talk to me, right? So you could probably convince them to let me go too."

[New Inside - Castilla]

Ilpholin scowls. "I think you do." She grabs the blanket and yanks it off the bed. "And you're just trying to use me to get free."

Or maybe he doesn't. She'd see soon enough. No more places for him to hide though.

[Murkus]

[Hillside Rambling]

After a moment, a quiet "Thank you." Although Lucy by no means looks relieved. "I like to think I'm real too. But- but this is still his body. And he needs it. His mate is worried about me or one of the others taking him away for days at a time when he'd have children to look after."

...

"Did- did I mention there were others? I-it's, um, it's quite...crowded, in here."

[Hillside Rambling]

Vivi looks at her, momentarily stymied. "...How many, dear?" Vivi turns... and starts to pace. "It is okay... we are both magical people, in a sense. We live in a land of great wonders. We can solve this. If you are a separate mind... if you are your own person, as I believe you to be..." Vivi seems to be concentrating intensely. "We just need to get you your own body. Or make you one. We need something for your spirit, your essa, to inhabit. And then we need to draw you forth."

[The Joining House]

"T-that's, er - well, uh, would they be a little less rowdy than the folks around here?" Blanche artfully dodges, trying her best to act like she isn't a brighter shade of red from such a forward inquiry. "I-I mean, she did seem like pleasant company." She takes a second to finish off her mug as a means of trying to keep herself from saying anything unintentionally incriminating.

[The Joining House]

"Did she?" Votsona props his face on his fist and appraises her. "Pleasant company, indeed, or so I hear. And less rowdy, too. In fact I bet she's seeking a little peace and quiet right about now." Vots stands. Make his way round the table. "Come with me."

[Ashen Lilies]

[City Out of Time]

Electra doesn't seem to mind having Cass's arm around her. She looks towards the city center, and gestures.

"It looks like that might be where we're looking for. Or at least, a good place to start."

[City Out of Time]

Nothing and no one appears when Cass and Electra land within the city. The feeling of not being alone might intensify for them, though. While the streets are still empty, there's a faint suggestion of movement through them. A rustle of clothes, a shadow of a dwarf's silhouette, the movement of air. In the utter stillness, even such a trace may be startling.

[City Out of Time]

"Yeah..." Says Cass, slipping her arm out from around Electra as she gives the city a wary glance. "There's something...'

She steps slowly away from Electra, holding up a hand as a small bubble of magic appears in it. It suddenly expands sharply, becoming a spreading globe that sweeps out through the streets for a few dozen meters, scanning for anything living.

[Rebonack]

[The Shrine of Glass]

Faced with something terrible Xeni decides to do something worse!

Always a great plan. Why try simple solutions when you have mad wizardry available to you?

Xeni's jaunt lasts for a fraction of a fraction of a second. A stutter, more than anything else. Something about this place prevents it from being anything more than that.

One moment he's in the shrine.

The next? He's nowhere in about the most literal sense of the word possible. As before, nowhere is pretty offended by him being there and being something. It honestly really doesn't like somethings since somethings give it context, which it isn't particularly enamored with. Even worse is the fact that he brought the Rabbit Horror with him. It really doesn't belong here and is the more offensive of the two, so it focuses on making that a little less offensive.

Then?

He's back.

Holding a completely unremarkable black rabbit.

The rodent wiggles its nose and appears a bit confused.


[Waylaid Tours]
Dave

You decide that you're having none of this nonsense and kick the rising knight right in his center of mass. He had JUST managed to stagger back to his feet and this causes him to toppled over again. And, of course, begin the arduous task of trying to get up again.

You cut that short with a large rock.

There's a sound of bending metal and... not quite a meaty noise. Nor a crunch noise. Not the sounds one might expect from a caving skull. More of a dry, airy sound. A large cloud of spores poofs from the helmet as the knight falls still.

Well. That's two murders under your belt. Odd that neither of them are bleeding at all. Shouldn't they be bleeding?

Now, about that lockbox... Inside is a collection of gold and silver coins, a vial of holy water, a carton of revolve rounds, and what appears to be the deed to a nearby castle?

And a letter. You could read the letter. Maybe it would offer some explanation of what's going on? Or maybe just grab the money and bullets and run. Or perhaps check the inside of the carriage?

What do you do?

Hector

You step beyond the signs and your shadow separates from you, giving you the opportunity to see it for the first time. Without being attached to you it briefly raises itself off the ground, but it seems to have trouble doing so without its connection to you. A vague dark smear rather than anything coherent. It's pitch black, black as night with smoulder red eyes staring out of the gloom. It looks like a enormous wolf-like dog, but given that it's pure black guessing the breed is difficult. The shackles and chains are missing, however both you and the shadow are wearing the bronze collar. You can tell that he's irritated for being abandoned so quickly. You can tell because he's you and you would probably feel the same way.

Then he turns and stalks off into the underbrush in search of a way through the barrier. It may take him some time to get through.

As for you? The Hamlet lays before you.

Maybe you could visit one of the outlaying farms? Or that quaint looking windmill over there? Or set off toward the town itself? It's time for choices.

What do you do?

Lucy

You collect a gold-looking dagger and set off deeper into the clearing.

The dagger is heavy in your hand. Heavy with sin. Or maybe just because whatever it is made from is really dense. Probably the second one. Iniquity has metaphorical weight, not physical weight. Right?

Further into the clearing. You pass more grotesque idols. Every single one of them appears human, after a sort. But they're all monstrously deformed. Not with fangs or scales or any inhuman things. They all look human. Recognizably so. But their features are distorted in a way that's deeply distressing. Before long, peeking out from behind one such idol, you discover a small group of... people? Gathered around a stone fire pit. People is used here in the most forgiving way possible. They're all deformed, just like the idols. Each horrible and grotesque in their own special way. Some are big. Some are small. All are dressed in filthy, colorful patchwork fabric with the most clashing and jarring color combinations you can imagine. Several have ugly looking weapons sitting near them. Almost as ugly as they are themselves.

They're jesting and cursing and roasting something over the fire. You can't tell what it is. Every now and again they begin yelling and fighting and one of them will whollop another with a stick with a rock tied to it while the rest laugh in a rather mean-spirited way. The wholloped ones bounce back in an almost cartoonish fashion and then the fighting begins in earnest, two of the horrible little imps tussling around in the mud.

You could probably try speaking with them. They ARE speaking, just about very crass and terrible things. Things that makes your skin crawl. Or you could flee back the way you came. Or, while they're busy fighting each other, you could sneak around the edge of their firelight using the idols for cover. You can see the path continuing just beyond their camp.

What do you do?

Carlie

Well they've certainly spotted you now.

The fish-person with the dagger points it straight at you. "GLUB! GLUB GLUB!" it gurgles. It's a very threatening sounding gurgle.

The other two fish people scramble to collect weapons! One seizes one of those landing hooks while the other grabs a cutlass. It'll take them a few seconds for them to retrieve their stabby things and in the mean time you should probably get the heck out of here or do something about it.

The third fish person doesn't seem intent on giving you a chance, though. It raises the piece of driftwood it's holding toward you and you're struck by the fact that there's a purple sea urchin stuck to the end of the stick. That's kind of weird because when sea urchins die their outsides rot off and all the spines fall out. But this one still has the spines on it. Maybe he's got a live sea urchin on the end of a stick?

He waves the stick and causes a wave of entropy to wash toward you. Getting afflicted by the arcane magic will cause flesh to fester and clothing to rot. Probably good idea to get out of here instead.

Do you stand and fight? Do you flee back the way you came? Or do you make a break for the other end of the chamber?

What do you do?

Aelid

You step into the hut.

With a flurry of wings and a raucous chorus of cawing, the crows outside shove the door shut behind you.

It's quite dark in here, with only the firelight to illuminate the hut. The skins on the inside of the building do an excellent job of keeping the light out.

"An accident? Oh dear me that sounds dreadful. Are you hurt?" the figure asks, still just as impossible to make out as they were before. "Aelid, what a pretty name."

Something about the way the figure says pretty is unsettling. Like how someone might call their pet a pretty bird.

"And thank you, I'm quite fond of my little cottage. It's a bit morbid but with so much of the wood rotten in this forest one must make do. So, here you are in my house What can Granny do for you, deary? Perhaps you'd like something to eat? I haven't much, but it's so uncommon that I get visitors."

Granny?

Must be an old woman, then? The was she's hunched over suggests that might be the case.

You could accept the food. Surely there's nothing wrong with that? Or you could politely decline. Or maybe you decide that the crows closing the door behind you is just a little too unsettling and take your leave.

What do you do?

Leah

As you draw close to the mausoleum the other you suddenly falls very still. She watches you place your hand against the spiraling crystals of colour. She glances into your eyes. You can see that she has no colour, merely color. She hasn't found the One Way, yet.

You're surprised when she whirls around, cracking the iron fence-post she's holding into the side of your head. You hear a shattering sound.

You stagger and she hits you again. She hits you until you fall over onto the ground, you're skin cracking open like a geode, colour pouring out. Oh gods oh gods oh gods stay away! You try to shield yourself with your arm, but she smashes through it with the iron rod. It breaks like porcelain.

You don't want to die you don't want to die plea-

She brings the rod down upon you again and again until you stop moving.

You are now the Leah with the fence post.

You just smashed another hollowed-out you. Another you with pools of colour for eyes, impossibility running down her cheeks. You had heard it coming and tried to look busy with something. The husks are the only ones the crystals listen to. They're wrong. You aren't sure how many of the husks you've broken. You lost count. Whatever the entity in the garden is, you aren't going to let it get you.

You know several things. You're trapped in a time loop. You need to find a way out. Whatever this garden is, it's the colour's sanctuary AND its prison. It wants out. And it's trying to get out inside your head. You're reasonably sure that if it escapes that will be bad for everyone. Some of the husks you've met gave in on their own. Others were forced to stare into the Colour of Song until it had burned out their eyes and hollowed their insides. Sometimes the husks try to help you. Sometimes they're just confused. Sometimes they're hostile.

This is the first husk you've encountered on the coloured-soaked path. You aren't sure what that means.

You could probably pry the mausoleum open now. There might actually be something useful in there. Or you could head further down the path. Sure, it loops back on itself like everything in this hell does, but every time you loop back things are a little different. You might still find a way out. Or you could go back the way you came. Try one of the other paths.

What do you do?

[bc56]

Waylaid Tour - Dave

Probably just can't see the blood through that slime they camouflaged themselves with. That's it. Now, the contents of that box. Dave stuffs the revolver ammo into his pants pocket along with the vial of water. He briefly looks over the castle deed before stuffing that in his pocket too. If he can find it, it might make a good shelter, or it might be a ruin like everything else here. He takes a handful of gold coins. They aren't much use to him now, but when he gets back to civilization, they're worth their weight in gold. The letter is last. What does it say? What were these people doing? Why were they lying in the dirt pretending to be dead? Does modern technology exist here, or has he stumbled on some primitive wasteland?

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

...huh. His brain didn't explode (more than usual, this has yet to not produce the most phenomenal of headaches). The rabbit didn't explode (it might even be cured?). The room didn't explode.
That...that experiment seems to have just entirely worked with minimal consequences whatsoever?

Wow that pretty much never happens.
He'll have to remember to take notes on that later.

Blinking away the visual spots his latest headache has decided to gift him, Xeni looks down at the rabbit he's now holding and adjusts one hand to give it a tentative head rub.
"Feeling a little less terrifying and aggressive, buddy?"
Hopefully it doesn't bite his finger, or try to flail away to freedom. (Rabbit spines are fragile, after all, what if he broke its back trying to keep it from falling?)

Now, if it's behaved and not secretly a fae monster now, we can return to this dungeon business.
Namely figuring out which door is possibly openable and what lurks beyond it. And maybe keep a better eye out for more stalking, Zee-warped wild-life?