pedalbike | 2nd Event: Choices We Make

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2nd Event: Choices We Make

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Arrival

Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.

C-C-Changes

Thankfully the fog has gone down to what it was before, a slow creeping crawl over the ground. And too, the monsters of before are gone, leaving the town much like it was before. Well...close to what it was before.

For now the season's have changed, from a lingering summer to a cooler fall.

There’s new foods to try, even if some things like lattes cause people to slip into warm boots and tie up their hair, and soups make people curl up under blankets on the couch. And it also means decorations of all sorts, made of the leaves from the forest, orange, yellow and red things and...we can not forget...

Pumpkin overflow

Pumpkins! They're everywhere. Wickies will find pumpkins infused into all sorts of things, like coffee, ice cream, even spaghetti options! It's wild.

There’s also many jack o'lanterns. They have been placed everywhere in town, outside homes, and even small ones have been made into table decorations. The Jack o lanterns have very cheerful faces, and seem to watch Wickies every single move.

That is, until a Wickie bashes or otherwise abuses a pumpkin. That's when it changes- there seem to be more of them. Their expressions change to that of anger, sadness and disgust. None of them attack- yet. But their faces become more and more horrifying, as they follow the Wickie more and more- outside of the bathroom perhaps, or found on top of them as the Wickie wakes up in the middle of the night.

It shouldn't matter right? They're only pumpkins.

What a ride

Funny enough, with the pumpkin invasion, there also comes a dull colored horse wandering about the island. Its head is drooped, and it looks depressed and lonely. The horse is tame on approach and will accept pats and treats, even from those who are obviously not human.

But it also wants something, for all that it seems to be begging for attention. It wants someone to ride them, seems to even be begging for it with its big eyes. The horse will help Wickies to figure out how to mount; it will even stand beside the Town Center benches, rocks, or even go down in order to make it possible for the Wickie to get onto the horse’s back.

That’s when it changes. The Wickie is immediately wrapped in chains from their barrel to the Wickie’s waist. The horse turns a coal black and the Wickie’s clothing changes into that of a soldier's uniform, with a hand either holding a whip modeled after a human spine, or a jack o'lantern.

The Wickie cannot get off the horse on their own, no matter how much they struggle. As the horse moves throughout the town, they will go anywhere from a walk to a full canter, seemingly impervious to any magic or physical attacks. The same cannot be said for their unfortunate rider.

If the rider is hit, or simply in pain, the Wickie will feel an impulse that grows and grows until they scream a name of someone in town, someone they know.

And the named will drop, paralyzed. Paralyzed wickie are likely to die within minutes, more so if they are too close to horse and rider. The horse will happily trample anyone on the ground to death.

Even without the impulse, should the Wickie rider use anyone’s name, that person will drop, paralyzed, and unable to breathe.

There is only one way to possibly save the rider: scatter golden objects in their path. The horse will shriek, and promptly buck the rider off, before running away. Just make sure to catch the rider, or at least cushion their fall: they have no way of saving themselves until they hit the ground.

Heart game: confession

Current residents of the island may remember this particular beeping alert, and how it doesn’t go away, no matter what they do! That is, unless they open up the Heart Game, and answer the question.

Welcome back everyone! It’s so good to see you again! Now let’s play that game, Confession! And the question isssssss…

How do you celebrate the changing seasons! Don't be shy!

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[Oh no. Don't read too much into it, Helios... you just saved him, therefore you're his saviour, right? He's just going to... let him flail a little bit, because what does he do with that??? Nothing, obviously.]

Helios, then. [He... he's bowing. Just full on bowing. Yeah.] I am Donar, it's a pleasure to meet you, circumstances aside. [At least he's polite. Tall and polite. And strong, apparently. And, belatedly, maybe a little worried.]

... Are you alright, though?

[Donar, you don't just bring up someone's stuttering like you know them to be worried about them--]

[ perhaps the phrase “I make the laws where I come from” would have intimidated some and angered others.

flat?

he laughs. ]

That’s pretty cool! Must be a lot of work, having to think of adoption laws.

[ but ultimately, he shakes his head. ]

No, I haven’t seen her. [ hmm... would this be a good time to help? flat pauses for a moment to wonder what his professor would do and, once he came to his decision, he grinned. ] But I can help!

I have partners I can trust and delegate to. It's not too bad.

[When Nameless isn't nagging, at least.]

...thanks, I'd appreciate that. Honestly, I'm hoping I don't find her, but that's pretty hard to be certain of right out of the gate. If she is here, I want to find her as soon as possible.

( harrowhark talks like a girl raised on the memorization of orison and religious texts, and who glutted herself on ancient and forbidden necromantic secrets in her free time — because that's exactly what she is. not to say she's never had her uncouth moments, but... well, most of the time she acts exactly as she must, as the reverend daughter of her house. )

Remarkably unhelpful. ( animals exhibited far too many variables. that's why it is probably best they were not so profuse on the ninth. they had enough issues. but she would have to admit this animal doesn't seem to pose an immediate threat, though its dogged determination aggravates her reflexive paranoia.

to harrowhark's credit(?), she doesn't flinch at the sudden violence. based on the questions she has, it might have been an eventual recourse for her, though perhaps a little further down the list. she expected the horse's skull to fracture like kindling, but it seems to be made of sterner stuff than that. still, the beast gutters out a pained, muffled whinny and scampers a distance away, watching them in a way which she can't read. it seems either despairing or ireful. or both? )

Did that seem normal for a horse, by your own approximation? ( she has No frame of reference. )

( as soon as the arm is brought back from her throat, harrow slides away laterally, lifting one gloved hand to pull at the phalange-studded collar of her shirt. she coughs, though her eyes are up, fixated and intent, on her two skeletal bodyguards as they square off against her one-time assailant. they have let go of her as soon as she let go of harrow, but they move with uncanny fluidity between the two, acting as an undead, osseous wall between them.

the sword being drawn causes harrow's hands to disappear once more into her robes, searching out the other shards and fragments of bone she has stowed away within hidden pockets. she freezes in this posture just as adora freezes with her sword outstretched defensively — an impasse. the skeletons wait, passive. she had summoned them with programming to defend her, after all. they wouldn't act until adora did.

at her command, harrow pauses. she blinks, and then her brow furrows. this girl deeply misunderstands what is happening here. does she not recognize a ninth house necromancer when she sees one? then again, harrow can't say she recognizes her own grab — the military style and crimson color remind her of the cohort, but it doesn't match what she had seen the second wear.

regardless: ) You accost me, then you offer to defend me in a retreat from my own constructs? Explain yourself. ( they weren't your garden variety bone constructs, either. these were harrow's newest model, replete with regenerating ash. she's still getting accustomed to the drain on her; even now, sweat begins to bead at her hairline, ruddy with blood. )

[ He expects it to be a little more difficult than it is. Socks or bare feet on porcelain and all that. But he's actually wearing his sneakers, it seems, and as a result, he's able to plant his feet on the tub and push himself up without issue with her help. ]

... Huh. Mion... we're both wearing our shoes right now.

[ Isn't that a bit odd? Even if they were drunk or something, they definitely would've taken their shoes off upon entering this house. Japanese etiquette and all that. ]

I see. So maybe we're similar but different in that case?
But Fortuna isn't familiar at all and I feel like I'd know of a place like that.

Some people would kill for that, you know.

I do a lot of worldwide traveling for work. Get it? Heh. ;)
Anywhere there's bioterrorism, I'll be there to investigate it and combat it where it's needed.

I'm Jill, by the way.

Mainly I get fascinated by something and will drag out all the other tidbits of history and lore that I'm familiar with and try to find the common theme. My one companion often calls it my 'educated babble of nonsense' but I think that's mostly in jest since he often refers to me whenever brains are needed in place of explosives.

[ He loves Pangzi for his simple, uncomplicated manner when faced with the tombs and the puzzles they run up against. He wished sometimes he could be that straight forward and not find himself puzzling out the whys and hows and speculate on what wills. But he suppose that their association would have been less fun if he was just another version of the larger man. ]

As you wish; there is water in the carafe there if you do grow thirsty. [ He nods at the table in between the two low couches, the covered carafe and matching upside down glasses something that he started to leave there since the start. ] I do know something of the place, but it isn't what I would call a deep knowledge, unfortunately.

[ That irks him to no end. Wu Xie was use to having a network to feed him information, a system of allies and he hasn't been doing his best to build such a thing here. He wants to, but well, he has to also deal with his lungs and the unsettling fact that whatever is making him feel better might also be asking from him more later on. ]

The location is an island, though I cannot tell you exactly where the island is. I would guess somewhere in the Western half of the world or some what similar. The language feels English, as does the buildings - which probably means little to you since your vestments scream 'other' to me. Mm, I think that this is a different reality, quite possibly a pocket dimension of a shift in the spacetime that has pulled people from various bordering 'worlds' to this one. As for why...

[ He pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at the floor. ] Did you hear a voice before you appeared?

... Do you think the owner of the house will get mad?

[It is odd, but also - Japanese etiquette.]

Maybe. But we would've both taken them off, right? That doesn't make any sense.

[ Come to think of it, this doesn't look like a standard Japanese bathroom, either. That's not such a big deal, but how many people in Hinamizawa would have a bathroom like this? ]

Mion... um... we get dragged out drinking, did we? There wasn't another barbecue or something, right?

[ He doesn't have a headache that isn't faucet-related, after all. ]

[ He shrugs. ]

Why not?

[ Kurogane starts to head to the back of the store, looking for a freezer. ]

I wonder if it'll get frozen enough that it can't move.

[ It's worth a shot. ]

[ There's a short stretch of silence as he looks at her before shrugging. ]

Can't argue with that.

[ About a year ago he would've disagreed and just smashed one anyway, but thankfully he's better than that now. ]

Facing them against a wall might get rid of the feeling of being watched, or at least help.

[Sentient species? Few other implications could make sense. Together with the network posts, the casual chatter of aliens and magic, it's—consistent. But not in a way he likes.

The other android's function, on the other hand, earns a flicker of interest. That would make more sense of the bare frame.]

What kinds of targets?

... Yeah. Yeah.

[As far as she's aware, anyway. But as for his question:]

No, I'm pretty sure we didn't. Fairly certain we didn't. What's the last thing you remember?

[Maybe they were drugged?

She doesn't remember that either, though.]

[Connor looks down at the home invader and lifts his eyebrows.]

The mirror.

[Boone's blocking the view.]

No surprise. And no scrutiny, either. It's clearly crossed paths with his predecessor before now, but if the other Connor offered any warnings, Markus isn't heeding them. How convenient. The gun in Connor's pocket has no ammunition, but he'd salvaged a couple knives from the kitchen even before visiting the clinic.

"I suppose it does." Connor tilts his head in innocent curiosity. Cross-references the associations, follows the easiest prompt as the gap narrows between them. "You belonged to a painter, didn't you?"

He reaches to adjust his tie.

Ohhhh. That kind. [ She pauses. ] I have no idea what you're talking about.

[ Shadow Weaver's ghost stories never included a way to actually defeat them. That would go against her goal of scaring the life out of innocent children, which Adora's pretty sure is her favourite hobby. ]

I guess? I haven't seen any ration bars, but we can still find other food. Some of it has to be safe to eat. [ And not fucking haunted. ]

Oh, you wanna meet her, huh? [ She pulls her sword off her back, still faking nonchalance. Some people are responsible with their powers, but Adora loves attention too much, which will definitely never at all bite her in the ass. ] Okay. Close your eyes, because this gets bright.

[ If she does watch, she'll see Adora hold the sword above her head and yell: ] For the honor of Grayskull! [ before being enveloped in a blinding golden light. When it dissipates a few seconds later, she's still recognizable as herself... only much bigger and stronger looking, on top of being clad in golden armour. (She might have been exaggerating a little about the height thing, but she's still utterly gigantic in comparison to most people; enough to tower over Abby by at least a foot.) ]

Hey. [ She grins. ] Don't worry, it's still me. She-Ra's just a title, not a different person.

I wonder about that.

[ he smiles at his communication device. ]

But didn't you say that you were constantly complimented by people? Wouldn't that be enough?

[ because to figaro, someone who is highly respected (and feared) back home, it's never enough. ]

So in other words, your world's magecraft is equivalent to my world's magic? Fascinating. I'm glad that you're the type to listen to your professor, as well, considering how I am one myself.

[ flat... a good student. wack. ]

The name Korea doesn't ring a bell for me either. But now I'm a little jealous how you came from a world with much colorful country names compared to mine...

Well, then again. The name of a country doesn't matter in the long run. What matters are the people and the unique places you can go while you're there.

I wonder.

[He doesn't elaborate. Would he give 'Mograine' a chance, should the opportunity arise? ... Maybe. Just to see if it really is worth listening to, or if there was anything at all interesting connected to such a name, and if not, he had ways of extracting a little revenge for time wasted.

While generally it's rude to touch people without their permission, Lahabrea doesn't hesitate to reach out, tracing claws along saronite plate in a low pitched squeal of metal on metal, then up across strange long eyebrows. Definitely not a familiar design, but he can intuit some of its purposes.]

And nonliving. [It's added as a casual afterthought, tone distracted.] I prefer the animated over the inanimate, though both are worthy endeavors in the proper hands. Describe these 'Titans'.

[Somehow there's no REQUEST in anything he says, it's as if he fully expects to be promptly obeyed, without hesitation or question. But that does explain the mood of the jack-o-lanterns, even if it can also be forgiven. Pumpkins were food, after all.

Replacing the lost veggies did make some sense from the veggie perspective.]

I should think the necrotic aura you possess would be detrimental to any efforts to seed new life, be it plant or otherwise. You're killing the grass.

[Grass the trap-horse is snuffling at in a vaguely woeful manner, at that. With nobody paying attention to it, perhaps it will have to find more obvious ways to get attention.. or Lahabrea simply isn't a good enough target. Larkspur is sniffed at instead in an equinely hopeful manner.]

[Speaking of funny looks, she's getting one; a slow up-down flick of Catra's eyes and a raise of her brow before she hefts the now-horrified lantern in her clawed hands. She had been about to smash it into the group of them that she is CERTAIN had been stalking her, but, well. They're gone now, and since it seems to be the eating of their friends that's driven them away--]

...You want this one too?

chiming in late with starbucks and questions!

When riders are thrown from the horse, how long does it take for the chains, uniform, and whip/lantern to disappear? If they disappear at all. ~~Are some people just getting free bone whips out of this.~~ If they do disappear, does the horse return to being sad and dull at the same time?

Can riders direct the horse? Like, you know, an actual rider. ~~I'm so eloquent.~~ Or are they just along for the ride?

And, final question: is the horse deliberately out to kill people? Or is it more of it just doesn't care if someone's in its way?

[ The thing is, he's not wrong. Adora might know, now, that the Princesses aren't some grand oppressors of the planet, but compared to life back in the Horde, luxury doesn't even begin to describe what she has in Bright Moon. (Like, does her room really need a waterfall in it? Or all those crystals? They don't even do anything.)

She frowns in thought. ]

I guess it's hard being a ghost. Maybe screaming is the only way anyone can hear her? [ Oh. ] Wow, that's... actually kind of depressing.

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2nd Event: Choices We Make

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pumpkinsssss

so about that horse

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