Autumnal The Hollow Harvest

[Crenna]

An Autumn gathering beneath the turning of the wheel.

There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn. Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets. Welcome to The Hollow Harvest.

Once every Autumn, at the edge of the familiar world, a fairground appears among the fields. Its paths are straw-lain and lined with golden lanterns, with stalls draped in patchwork plaid, cross-stitch and old lace. Music floats down upon the entire scene before you, though no musician can ever be found. Presiding over it all are three women.

Three peculiar women.

They are difficult to describe, harder still to distinguish. At first. They are sisters, or so they claim, though one might believe it with the way they bicker and giggle together beneath their dark hoods. They have been welcoming visitors to the fair for as long as anyone can remember, gracious and inviting, if not a little eccentric.

As you approach the stall where the three woman are currently fussing over, they go quiet for a moment before turning their hooded gaze to you.

“Oh, look. We have visitors.”

“How lovely. Although...I wish they dressed up a little more for the occasion.”

“They've come as they are, sister. We mustn't be unkind.”

"Hush, both of you.”

One of the three women steps forward, long, slender fingers coming together at her waist. Behind her, her sisters share a glance; one is bright-eyed with amusement, while the other scowls in disapproval. They are dressed identically; draped in long, black gowns of silk so smooth it rippled like the surface of a stream at midnight, glimmering faintly with starlight.

“There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn. Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets."

Her hands open to you; the dark markings covering them stark atop her pale skin.

"Welcome to The Hollow Harvest”

“Our little autumn gathering,” one sister adds, tone high with excitement.

“Not so little,” says the other, “Not anymore.”

The one in front of you continues, seemingly accustomed to such interruptions.

"This is a place for wandering, for merriment, for discovering things you might not otherwise have found.”

“Or things that might not want to be found,” hisses one of her sisters, making a leering gesture.

“Oh, don't you start.”

“I haven't started anything!”

“You never do, until it's far too late.”

The two stifle giggles behind their similarly tattooed hands.

“There is much to see, partake in, and enjoy. We have taken great care with the arrangements this year, and we do hope you'll make yourselves comfortable.”

“Not too comfortable. Some guests do have a dreadful habit of overstaying.”

“Oooh, but I like the ones that stay!”

“Ladies.”

The eldest woman turns her attention back to you.

“Allow us to show you around, dear guest. We have set this little festival up to be enjoyed in a particular order. Browse the stalls, purchase some liberations, and step into the corn maze as you feel like it."

Welcome to the November Event! This is an interactive, text-based roleplay. You can choose to participate as a characters or as yourself. The event takes place across four stages, with each stage open for approximately one week.

Each stage is designed to last approximately three player posts, though your host may hurry you along if the evening grows too long or eventful. And don't fret - if you join later on or end up getting busy and not finishing your time in one area, you may just magically find yourself in a new area, ready to play again!

You are encouraged to:

• Explore and interact with the environment
• Ask questions and investigate
• Roleplay as your character and take decisions as your they would, or alternatively you may simply just attend as yourself!

In each area, you may discover clues, encounter spirits, acquire unusual objects, or stumble into situations that are unique to your encounter. You may choose to acknowledge other players you might see, but this is designed to be a solo experience just for you.

Additional details:

• Your host will respond to your actions and help move the story forward
• You don't need to solve every mystery or discover every clue to participate successfully
• There are multiple ways to uncover the truth, and not every guest will experience the fair in exactly the same way

Have fun! Be nosy! And don't forget that fate always wins.

Week One: The Corn Maze

Towering stalks stretch out further than you can see, its narrow paths winding between them. Lanterns line the entrance, warm and inviting, but the deeper you venture within, the less certain the way becomes. The corn whisper amongst each other, leaves brushing together as they sway beneath a breeze you can't feel.

What treasures could be hidden within? What surprises around the next corner?

"My favorite game, by far."

"One must keep one's wits about them in there.”

"And one's sense of direction!"

“The signs are perfectly clear.”

“...They weren't yesterday...”

The first woman gives her sisters a look before continuing.

“Take care amongst the stalks. Not all is what it seems, and not every peculiarity worth the consequences of investigating. A voice in the corn, a misplaced sign, or perhaps a fellow traveler. Do try not to lose your way entirely. We should hate to have to come looking for you."

Outside the entrance stands a scarecrow holding a sign that states the rules.

1. Do not run through the stalks. We cannot guarantee the safety of your limbs or head.
2. If you meet anyone inside, be friendly. We hate rude guests.
3. If you cannot find your way, follow your instincts. They're probably right...unless they're wrong. In which case we cannot help you.
4. Do not take anything off the stalks. They don't like it.

For this first part of the event, you can post here right in this thread!

 

[Crenna]

(For those that may need some inspiration for this event, you are free to write whatever you would like. Does your character just stroll through the maze? Do they hear voices? Do they feel like they are being watched? Do they see a crop circle? Whatever you choose, we will be watching and responding. Remember, fate always wins.)

 

[Rimechapel]

I look at the sister that talks in reddish font. How do I know how they talk in reddish font? I just know.

"Uh. Jum, is that you? Quit playin'. Jum. Hey. HEY. I know that's YOU in there, Jum. It's a good costume! Rilly! I almost didn't know it was you at first!"

I then smirk at the one that talks in green font - as that is the only way that I think I have to distinguish among them.

"And Grem, I almost didn't recognize you without your chair! Jeez, ya'll are killin' it with the coordinated costumes this year!"

But for some reason I'm too shy to chat with the third one is. You know, the one that speaks in purple font. ehehe...

And so, I blithely walk into the corn maze, intent on engaging with the process, picking up litter as I go, and humming Twinkle Twinkle Little Star off key so as to not be creepy at all. When I come to a branching path, I turn right, as often as there is a right hand path.

".... though​ I​ know not what you are...​ twinkle,​ twinkle, little star...."​

 

[Batcat]

Just how had Aimi arrived in front of the stall, listening to the three women talk seemingly amongst themselves and to her at the same time? She wasn't entirely sure, as the last thing she really remembered was going out for an evening walk before the last rays of dusk were swallowed up by the inevitable night. It had been a route she was quite familiar with, as she had taken it a few times over the last few weeks. And yet, by the time the new scents had registered enough to pull her out of her day (or in this case dusk?) dreaming, she was standing at the entrance to the fairgrounds. Pulling her earbuds out as her eyes scanned her surroundings, she had begun to walk around, letting herself get swept up in her curiosity that seemed to overwrite her panic. After all, there was a reason for that saying with cats and their curiosity.

That curiosity is what brought her attention to the three sisters, or perhaps she was simply nudged or even pulled along? Did it really matter? Her ears twitching slightly, the neko cocked her head to the side slightly as she listened to their words. Her gaze shifted to the corn maze, knowing that would most likely be the main attraction for her, before looking back to the sisters. "If I may ask," she said, "The corn maze, is it a 'reach the center' kind of maze or a 'reach the exit' kind? Or is it a 'you'll have to traverse the maze and see for yourself' sort of deal?"

 

[Flex]

He was a mighty man, with a name befitting of such a description. Many great feats could be attributed to his doing. Within a short span of time he’d acquired many badges in honor of those feats. Known to arrive far in advance, yet make his presence known in the distant future—this man was mystery personified. When he was most needed—when peculiar women had grown too vast in number—this man arrived to save the day.

This man—was Flex.

He’d heard of three strange hooded women and their stall. His allies—and they were many—knew there was no better man to send. For if not Flex to deal with such creatures, then who?

He was well known for conquering other weird and peculiar women. They were all given little nicknames after their defeat and acceptance of his greatness: Phi, Fy, Cr, Gr, Ju, and Wi just to name a few.

He was confident that these women would meet the same fates if they dared to cross him in this endeavor.

He listened with a stoically raised brow as the women finished their ramble.

"My favorite game, by far."

"One must keep one's wits about them in there.”

"And one's sense of direction!"

“The signs are perfectly clear.”

“...They weren't yesterday...”

He waved a hand dismissively with a single amused laugh.

“Signs,” he shook his head, humored by the word.

The only signs that would matter were the signs of his impending victory—whatever victory was in this case.

He’d find out. Flex always won these little word games.

“Thank you ladies, when I conquer this little field and its mysteries, perhaps I’ll add you to my trove of nicknamed stranglings.”

His shoulders shook with amusement at his own words, a haughty expression on his face as he strolled past.

There were paths. Little avenues that any normal person would take was far too easy. Flex knew that greatness would choose the path less travelled. So he walked straight into the most unkept of walkways.

“So, what’s so mysterious about this field?” he asked to nothing in particular, or perhaps everything. When you were as great as him, talking to yourself was the only way to have conversation with an equal.

After long moments he wiped at beads of sweat upon his brow, stopping to take a sip of water. He’d be concerned if he knew his body wasn’t simply attempting to cool the powerful machine within. The stalks hadn’t seemed to open up to anything just yet.

Truthfully, he hoped to run into other adventurers, just so they could see how well he faired. Or, perhaps one of those mysterious women so he could later name them. Maybe he’d even add them to his collection of daily Wordle victims. The world was his oyster.

So he listened for sounds, and made his way towards anything out of the ordinary.

 

[Crenna]

@Rimechapel

As you turn right, you hear a voice overhead. "That way is haunted, you know." Then another voice speaks, "No it is not! Stop leading the guest astray."

You turn back towards the fork and see a wooden post with a sign that has two arrows pointing in different directions. You could have sworn that there had been no signs when as you passed but it was clear as day now. Atop the sign perches two black crows, staring at you expectantly. The first voice speaks again, coming from the crow on the left. "Trust me, that way is haunted. And gross. Trash scattered around without even any good trinkets in it!"

The second voice, coming from the crow on the right, flaps their wings, "Lies! Lies and Slander! You are just jealous that more people pick my path then yours!" It meets your eye and gives a little nod, "Please, continue down that path. It is easy, a straight shot to the exit. You won't have to wander around for ages."

"No! Don't listen to him. He is misguiding you. The left path is the way you want. Everyone always assumes right but they get lost and our mistresses have to-" The crow on the right slaps the other bird with a wing, "Shut up you bird brain. Let the guest choose. And stop being a sore loser than they choose my way."

The two birds start to caw at each other, most likely yelling obscenities in crow language. Finally, they seemed to remember that you were still standing there and stop their squabble. The first crow clears its throat, "Tell you what. If you choose left, I will give you a shiny trinket."

"Not fair! But two can play at that game. If you choose my way, I'll give you a shiny trinket as well!" The two birds wait for you to make your choice. Something tells you that whatever path you end up choosing, you will not be rid of them on your journey.

 

[GremlinSage]

He was a mighty man, with a name befitting of such a description. Many great feats could be attributed to his doing. Within a short span of time he’d acquired many badges in honor of those feats. Known to arrive far in advance, yet make his presence known in the distant future—this man was mystery personified. When he was most needed—when peculiar women had grown too vast in number—this man arrived to save the day.

This man—was Flex.

He’d heard of three strange hooded women and their stall. His allies—and they were many—knew there was no better man to send. For if not Flex to deal with such creatures, then who?

He was well known for conquering other weird and peculiar women. They were all given little nicknames after their defeat and acceptance of his greatness: Phi, Fy, Cr, Gr, Ju, and Wi just to name a few.

He was confident that these women would meet the same fates if they dared to cross him in this endeavor.

He listened with a stoically raised brow as the women finished their ramble.

"My favorite game, by far."

"One must keep one's wits about them in there.”

"And one's sense of direction!"

“The signs are perfectly clear.”

“...They weren't yesterday...”

He waved a hand dismissively with a single amused laugh.

“Signs,” he shook his head, humored by the word.

The only signs that would matter were the signs of his impending victory—whatever victory was in this case.

He’d find out. Flex always won these little word games.

“Thank you ladies, when I conquer this little field and its mysteries, perhaps I’ll add you to my trove of nicknamed stranglings.”

His shoulders shook with amusement at his own words, a haughty expression on his face as he strolled past.

There were paths. Little avenues that any normal person would take was far too easy. Flex knew that greatness would choose the path less travelled. So he walked straight into the most unkept of walkways.

“So, what’s so mysterious about this field?” he asked to nothing in particular, or perhaps everything. When you were as great as him, talking to yourself was the only way to have conversation with an equal.

After long moments he wiped at beads of sweat upon his brow, stopping to take a sip of water. He’d be concerned if he knew his body wasn’t simply attempting to cool the powerful machine within. The stalks hadn’t seemed to open up to anything just yet.

Truthfully, he hoped to run into other adventurers, just so they could see how well he faired. Or, perhaps one of those mysterious women so he could later name them. Maybe he’d even add them to his collection of daily Wordle victims. The world was his oyster.

So he listened for sounds, and made his way towards anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

Crows cawing throughout the maze.

Voices in the distance.

A rustling of a stalk.

The moon's slow rise as the sun sets on the horizon.

But the sky above is already black and small flames light up only a small spot — assuming they even stick around.

Choosing the path untouched? Came a whisper that echoed around Flex's head.​

Wings flapped as several ravens cawed and flew away.

How curious. The whisper came again.​

Growling.

What will be left to walk it when you are gone?​

The voice cackled as the stalks shuddered around Flex. They felt weighted, heavy, as if turning to stone while still firmly being stalks. The more one pushed, the heavier they became.

The stalks decide the path. The voice whispered in amusement.​

To Flex's right, a path opened with the briefest lit little flame that squealed at him, gesturing for him to follow.

Do you trust the little flame?​

 

[AmphitriteSea]

Oh, the land on which humans walked was quite a strange place.

Seasaw was still trying to recover from the haunted house—to have witnessed someone get swallowed by an umbrella,watch someone bend forward and back at 90-degree angles, phantom screams… Hades.

And now? She found herself at the entrance of a corn maze.

Why did she trade her mermaid tail for human legs? She was really starting to question her sanity. Looking into the depths of the maze, it seemed as though she wasn’t getting it back anytime soon.

Amphitrite turned her head and looked at the sisters. “Sup, grills, how you doin’?” She flashed them a wink, giving them her best Matt LeBlanc impression.

She shifted her attention then, reading the rules: Don’t walk into the stalks, do not take from them, be kind.

But every instinct of her being said: march right in, make her own path, maybe collect a bundle to make homemade popcorn. And gods, if she ran into Flex… she’d be rude as hell.

Amphi gave them the side-eye. “I will be on my best behavior. Swear it.” She took her finger and crossed an “x” over her heart.

Have her wits about her?

She was all wit and retort; she would be fine.

Amphitrite sucked in a deep breath, cracked her neck, did a few lunges as she was still getting used to this whole walking thing, and marched straight into the cornfields while shouting, “Toodles!”

Now, truth be told, her greatest weakness in life was: being directionally challenged.

But this was a maze, after all. At some point, she’d make it from one end to the next. Amphi did stay on the path… for at least a good five minutes.

It wasn’t long before she heard a giggle, or perhaps that was the whistle from the wind brushing against the tips of the stalk. It was hard to say. Then, something shifted in between the stalks, squinting her eyes, Amph could have sworn she had seen her shadow— or something eerily similar to what she saw during her nappy time.

Sleep paralysis demon?

It was about damn time she confronted it; she was tired of shadows and their silly little games.

Amphi quickly turned her head back toward the entrance.

It wasn’t too late.

She then shrugged her shoulders. “Fack it, we ball.”

Amph then practically skipped straight to where she saw the shadow vanish, quickly disappearing into the depths of the cornstalks. She’d make her own path, skipping along the way, frolicking, singing: “Lalalalaaa.” It was just a quick shortcut—what was so wrong about that? But once her head popped out from the stalks, Amphi realized she was lost with no point of direction and her eyes widened at what lay before her…