ORIGIN - [EVENT] FOLLOW ME TO PARADISE

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FOLLOW ME TO PARADISE is a narrative experience in which everyone will be given the opportunity to vote on party progress. Posts are encouraged to be short; characters who join the campaign and fail to post within a week (without absence) will be evicted from the campaign. Magic does not work inside of the rift but familiars are welcome to accompany characters without incident. Rewards are based on which decisions get made, and others on the characters seeing the story through. There is no danger to characters participating in the campaign, it is solely for fun!

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The Visitor waits by its rift, tucked away near the Eyes of Eridanus. It is unclear how you know this, but it has invited you to join a story: it will guide you and anyone who wishes to join through a campaign it has written. It waits for all of you to gather before it steps into the rift, gesturing for you to follow. There is no pain when entering the rift. It is strange, like stepping through a waterfall. There is pressure and there is the sound of roaring static, and then you are through the rift and in a cold, white space: some kind of empty lobby, waiting on all participants to join. Without it being said, you know this.

Next post: May 8th

Wilder felt the strange invitation to go to Eridanus and allowed herself to follow the call. She was hesitant at first, as she was always hesitant these days, but something about it felt...not bad. It wasn't making the hair on her neck stand up, nor was it making her stomach feel sick. So she came to the Eyes, stepping carefully through the order-infestation, until she saw the Visitor. She tilted her head, feeling like she'd seen him before, but couldn't exactly place where.

Caution beat out her sense of adventure and she cast her magic forward. Of course, she could feel the heavy weight of Order all around her, the magic of whoever else was approaching, but whatever she felt coming from the Rift she determined it wasn't enough of a threat. Still, she waited for someone else to go in before she followed.

Although, she didn't go all the way in, not yet anyways, raising a paw and hesitantly poking at the edge of the rift. It wasn't...a trap, was it? She sniffed, but could smell nothing but grass and fungus.

A surge of bravery came over her and she made up her mind, stepping forward boldly into the empty white space. Panic rode over her as she felt pressure from all sides and a loud crackling noise in her head. Her mind told her to fun, but a small push from behind her and she was through, Vaati tumbling in from behind. She blinked, turned to look at her familiar as she caught her breath, and sent a quick thanks for helping her get through the moment. She looked around curiously, wondering what on Let she was getting herself into.

Eridanus wasn't home anymore. At least, with the white clinging to everything.

But the siren's call of The Visitor lured Reverend back, just to see what it has in store for him. Avoiding the slick webs of Order, he wandered back to the far end of the cave, relieved to see it retreat away from the rift awaiting him.

Of course, the rift itself is concerning, but... it seemed so much more inviting than the clinging webs. And the Visitor's gentle quiet persuasion, as well as another leaping in, are enough to convince Reverend. It needs to see this.

Here goes nothing, it thinks, before plunging inside and feeling the static overtake his mind. It's over in a moment, but it's enough to disorient it as it flops out into the lobby, awkwardly scrambling to get out of the way incase others come behind him.

There was much she missed out on. Much she should do. Much she should have done. Where was she in the war, in the fight against Order? Could she ever know the full story without truly being there?

Pollen's muzzle crinkles in frustration as she continues on through a warped Eridanus. She can't do much alone other than cut off an infected stem here or there; but if part of the plant's touched, the rest of it might as well be too. It's frustrating, just trying to witness the recent aftermath and gather herself back up to speed after far too many months chrysalized.

To say she doesn't expect to see someone else here is an understatement. At least, not someone who isn't order, but this person is familiar. Far too familiar for just a coincidence, and it drives her to tilt her head at both the Visitor and the rift. Nemean had pointed him out all those years ago, after all.

Furrowing her brows and briefly closing her eyes, Pollen deliberates on the invitation. She'd not come out here for stories, but she does enjoy them. It's an invitation. It's something to settle the unease in her chest. Balling her paws into fists, Pollen nods once and sets her mind into entering, passing through the rift and into...

Emptiness. She blinks once, twice, looks to the others who have entered the lobby already and offers a slight wave. "... so..." She hums idly, looking to see if she can spot any cracks in the lobby- ...

Ah, she's being impatient. Bringing herself to sit on the floor with her knees tucked up, Pollen begins unwrapping the vines from her arms idly and fixing their placements, tightening them back up for them to stay on for longer.

At first, the whispers coiling at the back of his mind could have been interpreted as an original idea. After the shock of seeing that tiny terror flitting around the ballroom, spewing literal vomit in her wake, the urge to run for answers had been immediate following the one which demanded he tell anyone in earshot about the sadist returned to their midst. No surprise that the first place he'd want to search was the Eyes, what had been and should've continued to be Nemean's boiling prison. He had no way to check for himself how she was sprung from its confines, but somehow travelling there seemed necessary to begin understanding where passionately executed plans fell apart at the seams.

The mostly tranquil setting of the Palace had long fallen away as he'd hurried to Eridanus, hardly a second spared to enjoy the scenery zipping by in every tunnel and cave passed through on the way to his destination. Where he absolutely had to be loomed in his thoughts, unable to be shaken by either natural wonders or frightful fungus. And oddly enough, his focus was slightly off-center; even though the pools stayed the objective, the mind's eye slid to a corner just beside them. There a figure, its silhouette fuzzy and undefined, stood waiting. Not until Fahl charged through the vegetation, huffing, did he finally realize and acknowledge its existence.

"Words," he murmured. "Words... picture... in my head. That. Was you?"

Hide pale with exhaustion, wheezes rattled in his throat while pieces recently discovered nudged themselves together. Then possibilities emerged from the invitation for a story. Golden spots painted over the pointed scales of his forehead, hopeful if somewhat hesitant.

"You're showing. No, want to show me something?" In the strange opening that it was playing the role of sentinel next to?

He did not know whether this would help his current situation. Who this was, a Master or another type of being entirely, remained yet to be revealed. Common sense should have advised him to refuse and hang back longer to see how others might proceed or maybe ask about intentions, but the lack of an obvious threat encouraged him to press onward. If there were harm, surely he could fight back. Otherwise what was the point of practicing magic if not for defense and impressing others who met him.

Once the static released him, the loss of grip on hindquarters as he exited was sudden enough to topple Fahl onto his face. A mighty shove forced the iguana, groaning, back onto stubby legs. Blank surroundings, what would've been called sterile if not for the other Gembounds already populating it, met his inquiring gaze.

To the Visitor he directed a stare, paired emotions of incredulity and confusion dwelling inside it. "What am I supposed to see? There's nothing."

What was the need for a special realm if it intended to craft its tale out of thin air?

Truth to be told, Mossie is Not Doing Great.

At all.

The corrupted mushrooms are everywhere. Her Buddy For Fancy Frolicking got stuck down a hole. Her son--

Can't think about that.

A voice whispering to her is a welcome distraction. She has no hesitation following it to Eridanus, and though her steps are careful due to the infestation, they're quick and purposeful.

Mossie does nothing to check before plunging into the rift with a loud yowl of "Here goes nothing, fuckers!"

It's reckless. Perhaps unusually so. But these are unusual times.

He'd come out in the early morning, stepping neatly past the first alpenglow hues of pink and gold lacing Orion's cliffs. Eridanus was... dangerous, now, to graze in. With Order's disgusting infestation (it smelled rank, all other considerations aside) he had to be ever-vigilant--and today's vigilance paid off with something... unusual.

That rift was open. And a figure-... waiting. The rest of the Gembound included a couple Pride had met (one of whom he deliberately averted his eyes from with a sniff) but the concept of a story held him rapt. Maybe it was something he could share with others, later, as he was so prone to do. Intrigued, he followed, those delicate hoofbeats guiding him into the Rift and through the curtain of magic-like-water that led him to this new place. His arctic hare familiar, Mischief, clung tightly to his back as he went.

An empty place--white and waiting. And, feeling nothing of his usual concern--only a faint, impatient excitement, almost childlike--he pranced from one leg to the next, looking among the others there. Like someone in line at an amusement park, he emanated suppressed enthusiasm, and spoke to the rest in a hushed tone.

"Do any of you have any idea what this is about?" he asked, eyes shining.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

The drone wandered Eridanus, visiting the cave the hive had conquered cycles before. He had not known it before its reclaiming, but regardless, he did not mourn it. The spores fluttered down like snow, the ever reaching fungus carving out a new shape in the trees. One that he found familiar - one that reminded him of home.

But the infection was not the only thing present, it seemed. It squinted at the figure and the light behind it - alien, but not intrusive. The way it knew its intentions without thought or sound was comforting in fact. This one was not part of the network, but maybe it understood the connection better than any gembound could. Was it even gembound?

A story. They had been promised an eternal memory, a repository within the fibre of their element. They had been enouraged to grow this library, so that further iterations may come into existence wiser. It would not forgo this opportunity. Juggernaut entered the rift - and was greeted by a small gathering of like-minded individuals. Well, like-minded would've been a liberal use of the term - all present appeared to not be of the Hive.

"Oh," He exhaled, pondering leaving the rift for a moment. He steeled himself before Mother could. His clearstone was safely tucked away at the top of his body, and even if they recognised him by design alone, his size dwarfed all those present. If it came to it, they'd be decimated in-

He stopped the train of thought, concerned at how quickly it had jumped to violence. He hadn't even given the gembound a chance to react, to show where they stood. He would fight for Mother yes, but to spill innocent blood? It was not the nature of the Hive - lest, of course, they got in its way. "Hello." He finished, eyeing his company in void with anxiousness (partially obscured by his lack of capacity for common expression.)

Alek was not supposed to go into Eridanus, especially not unsupervised. He had no doubt he would be scolded later, but he was beyond curious about the idea of joining a story. The aquatic dragon carefully crept through this infested cave to reach his destination.

When he had hatched, Alek had been about the size of a large bird. He had not grown even close to his full-grown size, but he was now about the size of a lion, maybe a bit larger. Clearly a juvenile to anybody who had seen a dragon before, but large compared to some other gembounds. He was still small compared to his parent Cadenza, but he was a bit larger than his dad Sprig. His real growing had not truly started yet.

Eventually, the dragon got to the destination that called to him, and he found himself elsewhere.

First, Alek looked at the inhabitants of this new space. He held back a wince as he spotted Pride, Cadenza's deer-dad. It seemed he had been caught in the act of wandering rather than receiving a scolding later.

But the one his gaze truly paused upon was the large, pale, strange entity that he did not know was called Juggernaut. He tilted his antlered head at the being, trying to gauge the intentions of this larger being.

But he could not discern a thing from this being. Despite his embarrassment at being caught, he decided it might be best to move close to Pride even as it hurt Alek's own pride. Death was the ultimate loss, one which he would get no victories following. It was better to suffer a bit of embarrassment than lose the ability to collect victories.

Lumut was wandering--trading swamp for jungle, savoring the new texture of new and gnarled trees beneath her fingers--when she stumbled upon the Rift. She sat silent for a moment on her branch, contemplating the stranger, studying its empty gaze with hers. Then, as if summoned, she clambered down the tree and knuckle-walked to the Rift.

She didn't know what she'd expected; she was not yet adult and certainly too young to bear the experience of years that others claimed. But this, the wash of static-roar magic, still shocked her. She reeled, blinking, a lip twisting upward in surprise.

Oh--there were others here, she noted, looking around as the rift's passage faded. Not one to speak without reason, she instead ambled toward the Visitor. They were why she'd come--summoned, beckoned--and so the orangutan settled by its feet, making herself comfortable. We are to wait, she understood, instinctively. And so, oddly content, she picked at moss in her fur and studied the others who had come, their strange and varied forms, with gentle interest.

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