[DAFFODIL]

[crittersheep]

[you find yourself whisked away to. . . a small clearing in the midst of a misty wooded area. it is the dead of night, with the moon and stars shining brightly above you. the shadows between the trees broil at you menacingly– it's a different kind of threat than the mist in the woods of the pasture]

[also: you are now dressed as little red riding hood, only in your team colors. yes, this applies to everyone. you also have a cute little wicker basket with (fake) food in it. Enjoy!]

[the new Weed's voice echoes above, as though spoken through a P.A. system]

The night was dark. . . and in the sky, the moon glimmered brightly, like a silver eye watching the world below slumber peacefully.

And yet, at this hour, Little Yellow Daffodil-- a young adventurer residing with their siblings on the edge of the Great Woods– found themselves lost between the trees. For you see, earlier that day Little Yellow Daffodil had received notice that their grandmother was very, very ill. Fearful for their grandmother's well being, Little Yellow Daffodil packed up a basket of food and donned their signature cloak, ready to venture into the darkness to care for their beloved matriarch.

But the path to grandmother's house is fraught with danger. Because lurking in these woods, ready to pounce upon the first sign of prey, are creatures of indescribable horribleness. . .

And Little Yellow Daffodil's adventure is only just beginning.

Comments

[ROUND ONE]

[crittersheep]

In the shadows between the trees, Little Yellow Daffodil sees a pair of bright, glowing, golden eyes. The eyes seem to bare into their soul, sending a shiver and a chill down their spine.

"Who is there!" cries out Little Yellow Daffodil, their voice shaky with fear. And out of the darkness emerges the tricky Bluebell Fairy of urban legend. Myths surrounding the village say this fairy lures in its prey with a loving gaze and a gentle smile, before sucking away their very soul as a tasty snack!

"Are you lost?" asks the fairy, "I know these woods like the back of my hand. Should we climb the trees, we will be able to find your path from above! Shall I assist you, my friend?"

Little Yellow Daffodil remembers they have a crossbow tucked away in their cloak, and it seems. . . they have a choice.

Do they TRUST the fairy's offer, or do they BETRAY the fairy and shoot them?

[anyway there's a little wooden Bluebell-colored fairy hanging by a rope from the trees now. for aesthetic]

[TALK IT OUT]

[crittersheep]

Re: [TALK IT OUT]

[potentshell]

[ Eclair pulls his hood down close around his head. ]

W-wait, isn’t the eye open? What happens if someone dies??

Re: [TALK IT OUT]

[rugpull]

Bluebell is made of cotton and idiocy so we probably oughta just pick trust and skip the drama of murderin' them.

Re: [TALK IT OUT]

[secondbornsun]

[ . . .

looks down at the getup he's now in and how the fabric stretches. corset. . .

debating taking it off. . . ]

[DECISION]

[crittersheep]

Re: [DECISION]

[rugpull]

Trust.

[RESULTS]

[crittersheep]

Little Yellow Daffodil bows their head, pulling their hand out of their cloak and staying their weapon. "I confess I do not know these woods well at all," they say with a small voice. "Your assistance. . . would be appreciated."

The fairy hovers in front of Little Yellow Daffodil, before touching their nose with her tiny fingers. A warm sensation courses through the adventurer's body, making them feel as light as a feather.

"Like this, you should be able to climb the trees with ease! Come, let us go!"

The Bluebell Fairy and Little Yellow Daffodil have decided to TRUST one another. But although they are now allies, their companionship does not protect them from the other horrors of the woods. . .

[PUNISHMENTS]

[crittersheep]

ECLAIR will see a vine whipping out at him from the woods-- and that's all he sees before it buries itself into his eye. Eclair is now short one eyeball. Oops.

TART feels a sharp, very painful burning sensation on his lower back! A jester's hat has been branded onto his skin, and it burns and burns and burns and burns. Nothing can alleviate the pain, and nothing will stop the constant bleeding.

PUDDING suddenly finds pain searing through his lips! Anyone who is looking closely enough will find a mysterious needle and thread piercing his skin over and over and over again, guided by an invisible hand. His mouth has been sewn shut; he can no longer speak. Also: pain? Blood?

BISCUIT suddenly feels his throat close up, his breath catching in his chest. When the sensation dissipates, he will find that he cannot tell a lie. TRUTH COMPULSION.

MUFFIN feels his entire body shiver, before a searing pain courses through ever limb. The pain is excruciating, but he can stave it off by touching someone else.

[ROUND TWO]

[crittersheep]

The sound of flapping wings fills the air, a series of pitch-black feathers suddenly raining down upon Little Yellow Daffodil from above. Looking up, it seems the moon and stars have been blackened by a vast expanse of wings as a large bird descends into the clearing from above!

The creature's sharp talons and glimmering beak send fear gripping Little Yellow Daffodil's heart. They swallow thickly as they gaze upon the majestic creature. The Thistle Roc is said to sweep in upon humans from above, piercing them with the daggers that are its talons and carting them off to its nest to feed to its young.

The Roc settles with wings tucked at its side, and addresses the adventurer with a piercing gaze. "Do you need assistance, young on? I can carry you upon my back into the night sky, and guide you to freedom, should you wish."

Little Yellow Daffodil remembers that they have dagger stashed away in their cloak, and it seems. . . they have a choice.

Do they TRUST the roc, or do they BETRAY the creature and clip its wings before it can eat them?

[there is also a cardboard Thistle-colored roc hanging by a rope from the tree branches. Birb!1]

[DISCUSSION]

[crittersheep]

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[rugpull]

[i wanna trust thistle but also this sucks]

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[secondbornsun]

Trust.

[ with an aggro tone. is anyone going to challenge him ]

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[electricflock]

[muffin is here now and presumably glued to someone

sitting up and cawing the bird equivalent of an extremely rude what the fuck, ASSHOLE]

Have you ever even met a Roc!?

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[potentshell]

I - yeah I trust Thistle…

[ Still covering his eye with a hand, ]

[DECISION]

[crittersheep]

Re: [DECISION]

[rugpull]

Trust.

[RESULTS]

[crittersheep]

Little Yellow Daffodil bows their head, staying their weapon and allowing themselves a moment of vulnerability in front of the Roc. "It would be easier to find my pathway from above," they say, "Please, can you assist me?"

The Roc's talons and beak continue to glisten menacingly, but-- in the end, the beautiful beast lowers its back, allowing Little White Lily to climb atop.

"Let us go, young one. To the stars."

With a flap of its wings, the Roc dives into the sky, Little Yellow Daffodil at its side.

The Thistle Roc and Little Yellow Daffodil have decided to TRUST each other. But even though they are now companions, they are not safe from the other horrors of the woods. . .

[PUNISHMENTS]

[crittersheep]

ECLAIR will find that his legs suddenly itch. And itch. And itch. . . and itch! Should he remove his socks, he'll find that his skin is slowly turning into bark. It doesn't hurt, but it's unpleasant. It'll stop just around his waist-- however, once his legs are fully covered in bark, it may be difficult to walk.

TART will find that his eyes are beginning to gently sting. . . and then the sensation fades. He seems fine?? Hm. However, the next time he tries to sleep? He won't be able to. No matter how tired he gets, no matter how exhausted he is, he just cannot fall asleep.

PUDDING hears the echo of a bowstring being pulled taught and then released. A moment later, an arrow embeds itself into his upper thigh, the wound gushing blood. The arrow has missed any major arteries, but it's deep enough that he isn't going to be able to walk on that leg for a few days until the injury is healed.

BISCUIT finds that his stomach is growling. He's hungry. . . so hungry. He's starving! But every time he sees food, or tries to taste it, or puts it in his mouth-- he gets violently sick. Biscuit is ravenous, but also unable to eat to satiate his hunger.

MUFFIN, on the other hand, feels the taste of blood on his tongue. The coppery notes fade quickly, but the next time he eats or drinks anything, his food will taste of nothing but blood and meat.

[ROUND THREE]

[crittersheep]

The vines and plants surrounding the clearing suddenly begin to curl in on themselves, as though alive. Little Yellow Daffodil rears back from the movement, clearly frightened, before calling out in a trembling voice– "Who is there!"

From the brush emerges a beautiful humanoid creature, with green skin dotted in beautiful, colorful flowers and hair made of leaves and vines. They flash Little Yellow Daffodil a small, friendly smile, reaching out to them with a bright red rose.

The Rose Nymph of the forest is said to lure in unsuspecting adventurers with a loving smile. . . only to trap them within their vines, sucking away their blood until there is nothing left.

"My my, you seem so frightened. . . could it be that you do not know where you are? I know these woods like the back of my hand. Allow me to guide you back to the path."

Little Yellow Daffodil remembers that they have a lance tucked away in their cloak, and ti seems. . . they have a choice.

Do they TRUST the nymph, or do they BETRAY the creature and attempt to slay them on the spot?

[also there's a cardboard Rose-colored nymph hanging from a rope from the tree branches now. it's very cute!! kind of]

[DISCUSSION]

[crittersheep]

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[secondbornsun]

. . .


. . .


. . . Betray.

Re: [DISCUSSION]

[rugpull]

[Ruggie is just going to say nothing cuz he has no idea what to do at this point and also his tummy hurt]

[DECISION]

[crittersheep]

[RESULTS]

[crittersheep]

Little Yellow Daffodil stays their hand, leaving their weapon in their cloak. They bow their head towards the nymph, perfectly willing to trust, to accept their help. "Please. . . I am lost and do not know where to go. Your assistance. . . would be appreciated."

The nymph smiles and reaches out to touch Little Yellow Daffodil's cheeks, the touch warm and gentle. For a moment, they feel warmth and companionship--

But only for a moment, before the nymph's vines pierce through their heart, encircling their limbs, sucking the blood from their veins. The Rose Nymph has BETRAYED Little Yellow Daffodil.

The last thing they hear as their consciousness fades is the mad cackle of the nymph as they devour their prey. . .