[In your hand is a fidget cube, a rounded white cube accented with buttons, dials, and switches in the color of a certain Family on the ship.
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
ELEGY
Date: 2025-11-14 10:14 pm (UTC)~
You see the priestess as you're walking to the greenhouse, fretting at the fence. That's never a good sign -- is the thing damaged? There's enough problems lately without adding more killing ghosts from the mist beyond it to the mix.
"Miss ■■■■■■■?" you ask.
"Y-you have a lot of nerve coming this close to the fence! Our deal's null, end of st--eh? ■■■■■■?" She spins to look at you, startled.
You look into the mist, even as she yelps that you need to run. The stuff confuses your eyes, as always, but it only takes a moment for the wrongness in it to resolve itself: a red light -- no, an eye? An enemy?
You scoop her up hurriedly and back away, but it pushes forward: the flickering, glowing eye sitting in the socket of a badly-damaged skull, a single crumbling horn, the melted remnants of gold ornaments clinging to the bone. You don't panic -- you've very good at not panicking -- but you know you are in enormous trouble. You start to cast a spell, knowing you probably won't get it off in time.
We made a deal, priestess, the creature whispers in your heads. I WILL fulfill my end, and you yours, one final time. This ■■■■■■■■ will do nicely.
You fling the priestess as far away as you can, as the creature's golden tendrils snare you with impossible strength. The last thing you hear, before the muffling despair of the mist closes in on you, is her screaming for it to stop.