⟪ an old man graces your sight with a kind smile, white-haired, white-bearded, and indigo-robed. behind him, multicolored garlands and wreaths deck the wall, and by his side stands a tall woman—some of you might recognize her as désirée. stoic and straight-backed, she casually observes their surroundings: glimpses of restless passing in front of the camera might indicate that they’re in a pub somewhere in mirth. with commoners.

doran seems entirely unbothered, content and at ease. when he speaks, his voice is clear and warm, matching the glint in his eyes. ⟫

My dear Restless… What dire times we all face, and what resilient people you are. I would not insult a brief reprieve with appeasement—your struggles and concerns are well-founded—and yet it is my hope that this announcement alleviates some of your torments.

⟪ slowly he brings his mug to his lips—it’s eggnog, because of course it is—taking his time to swallow and seemingly struggling not to cough. désirée's hand gently lands on his arm. ⟫

To those of you suffering from the curse, know that a cure is well on its way to be completed. I’ll personally ensure that there is enough to treat you all. Now… as difficult as it is, I fear I must still broach the subject… ⟪ he sighs, brows knit. ⟫ The people responsible for your unjust imprisonment were apprehended. They confessed, of their own volition, overwhelmed by Shadows they could no longer effectively control. Such a tragedy… Come what may, they were sentenced to dwell in the Hinterlands, and will not be welcomed back in Stygia.

As for your compensation, the sum of 400 coins will be sent directly to you, along with a piece of soulsteel. You will also be formally invited to a Masquerade hosted by the Hierarchy, in Radiance, as soon as the weather… unwinds, as it were. ⟪ ha! ha! ha! he laughs, briefly yet heartily, even though it’s not even a good pun. ⟫ Now, my dear Restless, rest easy and look out for each other. We are all we have. ⟪ head inclined in friendly salutations, the feed cuts. ⟫

ik this is going to sound like an episode of 60 Minutes that never got aired, but I have smelled worryingly like blood for the past week or so.

Please pre-emptively cool it on the wild guesses, though. God forbid any of this winds up vaguely sexual like Keith's thing (F, buddy). No, I haven't even been injured lately. No, it's not my time of the month. No, I'm not actually a murderer. I woke up one day, sniffed foul air, and have been increasingly ill since.

Does anyone have any idea what I can even do about this? bc I feel like I've tried literally everything but bathing in bleach.

Oh, actually, for ppl who don't want to interact with my TMI, what are your favourite movies? I work at the theatre in Mirth now and I'll get a 2% raise if I bring in more traffic, so I kinda have a vested interest in knowing what kinds of things you'd wanna see screened. Set can't pay for everything yk lol.

Thanks.

⟪ on your screen, waves in the background, high and lapping at the seawall that surrounds most of stygia, threatening to spill over. it’s a relatively common sight when colder weather settles; what isn’t is the woman in the foreground, cheeks round and full as she slowly exhales an abundance of concerns she clearly struggles to voice. ⟫

I’m… so sorry. Where do I even begin… ⟪ she shakes her head, visibly contrite. when she raises her hand, as if to shush an invisible companion, the tempest behind her seemingly subsides. ⟫ There’s been a terrible mistake. Many... mistakes. Some of you have been inadvertently imprisoned, and I’ve reached out to Amun in the hopes of rectifying the situation as soon as possible. There will be compensation for those of you who were wrongly mistreated. ⟪ her eyes, red-rimmed, flash vehement for a fraction of a second. ⟫ Mark my words.

⟪ whether it’s a promise to you or a threat to the hierarchy remains to be seen, though the apologetic glint in her gaze seems genuine. briefly she bows her head, fingertips to her lips as she coughs and clears her throat, a pink petal flitting in the breeze. ⟫ In the meantime, please know that our Healers are actively working to find a cure to the Harvest’s Curse. It’s not much, but don’t despair just yet. If your symptoms worsen, seek Rosuv in Mirth, and tell him Assana’s sent you. ⟪ her mouth stretches, a forlorn smile. ⟫ Stay strong.

⟪ and the feed cuts. ⟫

⟪ OOC | assana is the npc with blueish hair that you might have run into before! i’ve decided to breathe some more life into her and chose daenerys as her pb. she’s available for semi-regular cr (slower, probably) even tho she’s still an npc, but cr =/= privileges. assana obviously has knowledge that PCs do not possess, but we'll always ensure that all characters have access to the same opportunities.

if you do seek rosuv, you'll find him in a nightclub in mirth; he's a bartender. he’ll give you a bottle of warm oil that you can apply to your throat and chest, for free! it’ll help you breathe easier for a few hours, and has similar effects to cannabis.

you can now reach amun the elusive asshole and ask him once question each! that's his deal for this month ⟫

HUMANS
TELL ME HOW YOU CHEER EACH OTHER UP WHEN YOU'RE BEING PATHETIC AND SAD
I HAVE TRIED TO FEED MINE FOOD AND OFFER TO FIGHT HIM MULTIPLE TIMES BUT NEITHER OF THESE TACTICS HAVE WORKED
HIS SAD FEELINGS ARE ANNOYING AND MUST BE PUT TO AN END HOW DO I MAKE THEM STOP?

hey

[ so far so good ]

i got a friend who's got a problem
a big problem that's… small, i guess

anyone know a cure for shrinkage

We've all had some time to settle in. Hopefully everyone's holding up all right!

For those of you I haven't spoken with, my name's Sakura. I'm both a doctor and healer and I have a little ad hoc clinic down by the docks. （ a helpful location ping follows this. ） If you ever find yourself needing medical care, please reach out and let me know. There's at least one other person here with medical experience that I know of as well, but I'll let them speak up if they want to make themselves known — and I'm happy to collaborate with anyone else, none of us can be everywhere at once.

（ paging terraria, party of bird. ）

As for my reason for addressing you all... I'm looking to keep blood on hand for medical emergencies, transfusions and any surgeries that may be necessary. If anyone is willing to come down to the clinic and give a donation, it'd be very appreciated. I promise it only hurts a little! And you'll even get a candy afterwards! While supplies last.

Those with O-negative and O-positive types would be ideal. If you don't happen to know what your blood-type is, I can run a test for you.

Thanks everyone!

（ she's almost finished, and it seems like that might have been the last thing... but a few minutes later, she clicks the feed on again: ）

I'm still looking for information on anyone who's undergone the soulbond as well. Purely for research purposes. You can reply anonymously if you'd like, or privately if that's easier. I promise anything you say will be kept confidential.

[ The video begins with what's probably a familiar sight for a lot of Restless: the notice board in the harbor. A breeze causes the notices to flutter and in response, a hand reaches from behind the camera to press against one near the edge of the board, making sure it doesn't go anywhere. ]

--there.

[ Once the wind dies down the hand withdraws and the camera turns with it, held at arm's length to reveal a young looking man with dark hair...and bunny ears. He gives the lens a big smile! ]

Good day! To those I've yet to meet, I am Cedrik Reede, an adventurer. If you'll indulge me, I'd like to share with you all a project I've been working on.

[ The camera turns again, showing the road ahead as Cedrik walks past the board, heading for a building nearby. It's close enough that not even a minute has passed before he tuns down a stairwell built into an alley, leading to a door.

There's a sign painted above the mantle and a square of parchment nailed to the front, all painted with large, easily readable letters...if you know Eorzean script. Thankfully, Cedrik reads it out for the benefit of those who can't.

For the sign on the top: ]

"Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild."

[ And the notice on the door: ]

"Rule one, joining is optional.
Rule two, members add their names to the ledger.
Rule three, do not give cause to make more rules."

[ With that he pushes open the door, revealing a dimly lit but clean room, set up to serve as a bar. The furniture is all piecemeal, scavenged from around the harbor and beyond, but it's clean and sturdy...at least for now. There are even a selection of bottles on the shelves and, resting on the bar top, an open book with quill and ink.

After sweeping the camera around to show off the little space, he focuses on the book and reaches for it. Taking the quill, he dips it and writes his name at the top of the first blank page. Finally he turns the camera back on himself, his smile having turned into something deeply proud. ]

Some of you I've spoken to before about this and I must apologize for taking so long to get everything together. I pray you still have an interest in joining. Of course, all are welcome! It is my hope to see your names alongside my own in the near future.

[ He presses his hand to his chest and dips his head forward in a bow before ending the broadcast. ]


(OOC: More details to be found here! The Adventurers' Guild is officially open!)

⟪ and bam. on your screen, a guy, white-haired and surprisingly jovial, which is a bit at odds with what he’s about to ask. is it genuine, or is it a façade?? who knows. you might recognize him as the fool who innocently swiped left on you—or the guy who told a really bad astronaut joke on the netherwork. either way, shiro’s gonna shiro, so he’ll introduce himself again—just in case—his mouth a polite curve. ⟫

Hello. I’m Shiro… How’re you all holding up?

⟪ don’t worry, there’s no pep talk this time. not unless you ask for it, anyway. ⟫

I’ve a… I’ve a favor to ask. For my arm… or lack thereof. ⟪ point in case; his gaze drifts a bit to his right side, where his sleeve hangs empty. ⟫ I had a prosthetic once, back home, but uhm… ⟪ and there it is. a chuckle. half-strangled, half-nervous as he cuts the camera another hesitant glance and clears his throat, stifling a wince. ⟫

If anyone with skills in finding alternatives to missing limbs is somehow looking for a great candidate, well… you’re looking right at him! No complaining, high pain tolerance… and I used to be a pilot, so I can sit for as long as you need me to. This is not an emergency. You can reach out when or if you ever have time to spare.

Thanks.

⟪ ooc | voice-to-text is 100% a thing and it’s probably what shiro will use to reply to you! ⟫

I found some curious things, when dealing with the dead who were left behind in the Oakwoods.

Firstly, they appear to have died while filled with horror. I have also collected samples of a blue substance found around and upon their bodies. I am certain that I am not the only one who took note of this.

You are welcome to what I gathered. I do not care what you decide to do with it.

Additionally, in comparing the bodies of the explorers to those who were slaughtered by the mounted warrior -- their deaths are notably different. Deaths within un-deaths, this is ridiculous. To my knowledge, the components of a soul are universal. Regarding the explorers: I found no sense of soul, nor any of the components. For them to lack is ominous, but may also amount to nothing more than an oddity of the realm.

They are empty, and that is all I know.

At this time, I am only beginning my considerations. I will continue to deliberate for your sakes.

( OOC | While Set is here to Report On It, any characters that went poking around the explorer's bodies would be able to find blue dust that causes their Shadows to go "YEAH LMAO NO"!! Set's personal responses will be delayed, as I'm still tagging the event!

Feel free to take this in whatever direction you'd like. Did your character uncover something? Are they interested in something that happened during the event? Are they considering anything based on Certain Experiences They Had In Canon? pepesilvia.gif )

( ping ping ping. or, y'know, whatever your phone chime is. the face of a man who looks like he's never smiled once in his entire life appears on your screen. you may have seen him before, while you were busy surviving a storm or battling reapers. no matter. you might as well bask in his impromptu company now, because his appearances are few, and his indulgences even fewer. )

Allow me to make this clear. For those of you who wonder still: I am the Hierarchy. You do not come to us; we summon, invite, and hire. Order is of the utmost importance if you wish to survive, and time is of the essence. Do not waste mine.

( behind him, movement. if you squint, you may notice strands of greying hair near the door, though the person it belongs to remains off-screen. )

Your personal troubles are your own. If you expected us to hold your hand, do think again; there are far greater affairs to attend to, so do yourselves a favor, and look for soulmates. We've prepared an application for you, easily accessible from your device's home page. Should you need additional information, perhaps it's time for you to practice self-reliance.

I will not be answering questions.

( and the feed cuts, abruptly, without greetings or a name. )