event } that was easy

[seeingyou]

WHO: All y’all who feel like playin’.
WHAT: MARKER TAG
WHERE: On Navi.
WHEN: Jan. 17-31
WARNINGS: Use ‘em in your threads if needed! And if you end up getting a marker punched through your skull, please report it on the death page.

Something weird is afoot.

Everywhere you look, you’ll find piles of markers, all shapes and sizes and colors. And without explanation, you may find yourself overcome with a deeply competitive impulse to win. Win what? Why, a classic game of marker tag, of course. Why is this happening? Who cares! If affected, the only thing you’ll care about is marking your target.

This "game" will be played out in one-hour increments. For that hour, one person will be the target, and the rest of the ship's affected passengers will have an innate sense of who their target is. Anyone not "it" will chase the target character with the aim of placing a mark on them. Once a target has been marked by another character, the impulse to chase will fade, until the next target is selected at the start of the next hour. Target characters will remain targets until the end of their hour or until they have been marked by all participating characters. After that hour, the game starts all over again with a new target.

Sure hope those marks wash off in the shower!

Comments

[forgarlemald]

Nearly imperceptible. A balm against pain, barely noticeable but still there, allowing him to think a little more clearly. To breathe a little easier as he peels the mask from the woman's face and sets it aside, the blood contrasting sharp and vivid against the paleness of her freckled skin. And this time, it's him who almost chastises her, as she weakly attempts to wave off the seriousness of her collapse. It's there, on the tip of his tongue-

Only to be lost when he pauses at the familiarity of the face staring up at him. A face he thinks he should know, in some distant memory, though no name comes to mind, and it's some heartbeats before he can shake himself from the feeling enough to reach up and carefully wipe the blood away from the young woman's cheek.

"I can assure you, in all my travels I've never been to your Amaurot." He would remember if he had been. He'd remember a city that shined as brilliantly as the one he'd seen out of her enchanted window, that made him so long for his own home. He should try to put her back into her bed, and do insist that she stay there, but... For now, he only sits there with her, until he sees proof that she's truly fine.

"I'm merely a child of Garlemald. Nowhere else."

[ancestor]

"The soul does not lie, and yours is of my people. A... fragment...?" That doesn't seem possible, but the cracks in her own soul make her wonder what would have happened to the shards of her. "A piece of my kin. The echoes of my home. It is so very faint, but I can hear it..."

The tears do not stop, though now they stem from the swell of emotions bursting within her. Disbelief. Hope. Confusion.

"I don't understand... They are all dead. Every last one, save for he and I. He had no children, and I—" She cuts herself off with a quiet breath, one hand reflexively moving to her stomach. "...He and I are all that is left. I don't understand."