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Aradia's Heart Game - Session 1
Once upon a time, in a country far to the north,
the Lady Shalott sat within a tall tower.
It rose high above the clouds, and the air was thin and cold...
○ Channel is heartbeatstar, runner is Tiv (tiv#3067). Please make sure you're in before playing!
○ Content Warnings for violence/gore, sexual content, plant body horror, abuse (emotional, physical, religious), torture, self-harm, disordered eating, suicidal ideation, and sexual assault.
○ Words or phrases with double meanings or annotations, represented by a superscriptexample, are inherently understood by participating characters up to your OOC discretion.
○ Given the text-heaviness of the heart ICly, feel free to assume there is a text to speech function available for both reading and writing, for accessibility purposes. It’s magic. It just works. Like everything else, it’s up to your discretion!
○ Areas marked with an asterisk (*) in their subject lines are to be treated as instances and only allow solo play, but otherwise feel free to treat these runs as group sessions! Jumping around and talking amongst yourselves is more than welcome.
○ It is possible to die, but death will not result in exiting the game unless the player OOCly chooses to do so through that means.
○ Powers are on unless otherwise stated. You can have either your canon powers or the powers you have in Imeeji, but not both!
○ Corruptions are on or off at your discretion unless otherwise stated. All carry-on items are allowed unless otherwise stated, also at your discretion!
○ I'll be referencing everyone's squick lists, but if you'd like spoilers for areas/items so that you can absolutely avoid anything in particular, please contact me and I will do my best to accommodate!
Edited 2021-01-27 18:13 (UTC)
[ Your phone is no longer able to be accessed except for the following text, which appears on the screen in neat, simple script: ]
○ Remove all traces of corruption.
○ That means you have to garden a lot, so there are some annotations here!
○ If you want to learn a little more, then you can look at the number next to the words.
○ As long as you follow the directions, it should be really easy, so do your best, okay?
○ And if you get lost, or confused or scared… remember that you can always ask for help.
Because your Aradia will always be at your side.
[ You open your eyes to a large, open meadow; it’s in a word idyllic, acres upon acres of abundant green grass and colorful wildflowers, stretching onward endless as the blue sky above. In the distance, nestled among a series of rolling hills—lies a colossal, bone-white tower. It extends as far as the eye can see and then some, it would seem, on up into the heavens.
As you approach, the base comes into view: the entrance is a gate, white marble and wood inlaid with iridescent opal, shining in all colors of the rainbow. To its side you can see its twin, a door of the same type—or at least its frame, with the threshold seemingly set in nothing and going nowhere, only standing up on its own out in empty space.
And, like a sore thumb, lounging in a beach chair between them is a person. He’s a young man, no more than twenty, with dark hair and sun-tanned skin—something he’s working on now, it’d seem by the reflector held in his hands, the sunglasses shading his eyes from the rays.
A cigarette hangs unlit in his mouth. He's just sort of hanging out. ]
As you approach, the base comes into view: the entrance is a gate, white marble and wood inlaid with iridescent opal, shining in all colors of the rainbow. To its side you can see its twin, a door of the same type—or at least its frame, with the threshold seemingly set in nothing and going nowhere, only standing up on its own out in empty space.
And, like a sore thumb, lounging in a beach chair between them is a person. He’s a young man, no more than twenty, with dark hair and sun-tanned skin—something he’s working on now, it’d seem by the reflector held in his hands, the sunglasses shading his eyes from the rays.
A cigarette hangs unlit in his mouth. He's just sort of hanging out. ]
[ As if it were all a dream—
You stand, uninjured, back on solid ground, in front of a Japanese-style house. It is quaint in appearance, small in size but lively, with a garden and pond off to the side; through the open screen door, the scent of a home-cooked meal wafts through the air.
River stones line the path between you and the entrance. ]
You stand, uninjured, back on solid ground, in front of a Japanese-style house. It is quaint in appearance, small in size but lively, with a garden and pond off to the side; through the open screen door, the scent of a home-cooked meal wafts through the air.
River stones line the path between you and the entrance. ]
When you open the door, you walk into a large library. Because it’s fitted to the tower, the inside of it is round, and all of its walls are lined with shelves full of books. Even outside of that, there are rows of bookshelves! With the gothic-styled design, it looks a lot like a room you would see in ZRAEL’s dorm; isn’t it nice?
There’s no one there to greet you at the front desk, but there are a lot of soft-looking chairs to sit in everywhere, at the desk and at the tables too, and a basket full of snacks for you to eat.
There isn’t any corruption here, but the room is warm and comfortable, with orange-colored sunlight shining in through the windows and ceiling.
It’s starting to get late, isn’t it?
There’s no one there to greet you at the front desk, but there are a lot of soft-looking chairs to sit in everywhere, at the desk and at the tables too, and a basket full of snacks for you to eat.
There isn’t any corruption here, but the room is warm and comfortable, with orange-colored sunlight shining in through the windows and ceiling.
It’s starting to get late, isn’t it?
[ As gravity would have it, it is always so effortless to fall. It’s easier than climbing, at any rate.
The alarming part is when it doesn’t stop.
Your momentum slows as the fall ostensibly reaches its end but the impact never comes; the ground is nowhere to be found, and you are alone.
As for your surroundings -
In the time since your descent, night has fallen all around. That’s all that you can determine for absolutely certain—the whole shape of the library has long since fallen away, leaving only you and an ink-dark sky.
And the creature that was once in the ceiling, of course.
Set in among that writhing mass the stars shine unblinking in myriad colors; wealth and beauty abound unbidden in how vigorously they twinkle, yet for each its innumerable eyes there is not one that is not focused on you.
Your hair, your skin, your eyes. Your mouth, your hands, your feet. Your fingers, your toes, your arms and legs. Your brain and tongue and throat and heart and lungs and stomach and gut, so great is its wide-reaching sight boring in every-where at once and knowing.
You can feel it.
It is not enough that they know, but that He knows what you have done, the pressure of your sins great as the yawning emptiness around, stretching on as endlessly. It sets a certain chill in the air to be looked at, a numbness reeps into your extremities to be seen, a guilt that presses on your chest weightier than any stone.
So vast and all-encompassing the darkness1 is. You may very well melt away entirely.
But you see in the distance—shining, as if giving off its own light—
a single, solitary cup. ]
[ 1 - Gaze ]
The alarming part is when it doesn’t stop.
Your momentum slows as the fall ostensibly reaches its end but the impact never comes; the ground is nowhere to be found, and you are alone.
As for your surroundings -
In the time since your descent, night has fallen all around. That’s all that you can determine for absolutely certain—the whole shape of the library has long since fallen away, leaving only you and an ink-dark sky.
And the creature that was once in the ceiling, of course.
Set in among that writhing mass the stars shine unblinking in myriad colors; wealth and beauty abound unbidden in how vigorously they twinkle, yet for each its innumerable eyes there is not one that is not focused on you.
Your hair, your skin, your eyes. Your mouth, your hands, your feet. Your fingers, your toes, your arms and legs. Your brain and tongue and throat and heart and lungs and stomach and gut, so great is its wide-reaching sight boring in every-where at once and knowing.
You can feel it.
It is not enough that they know, but that He knows what you have done, the pressure of your sins great as the yawning emptiness around, stretching on as endlessly. It sets a certain chill in the air to be looked at, a numbness reeps into your extremities to be seen, a guilt that presses on your chest weightier than any stone.
So vast and all-encompassing the darkness1 is. You may very well melt away entirely.
But you see in the distance—shining, as if giving off its own light—
a single, solitary cup. ]
[ 1 - Gaze ]
Edited 2021-01-24 22:01 (UTC)
[ The lower floor is, in a word, a mess.
There are clear markers of wealth here—delicately formed moulding on the walls (but the astute will note the wallpaper resembles a certain house, not anything from ZRAEL’s dorm or Aradia’s memories), and stained glass windows (themselves resembling a certain hotel), a hook on what remains of the ceiling where a chandelier once was and a winding staircase, fitted with ornate golden banisters.
Silhouettes line the path between the stairs and the exit behind you, all indistinguishable and entirely featureless save for the curve to their dresses—if you look, they seem to be maids.
And so it is, if nothing else, clear that this was a beautiful room, once.
But now it is dilapidated, cluttered, with stale and stifling air—there may have been some effort to organize judging by the way that much of the mess seems localized to a desk off in a far corner beneath the stairs, but it’s clearly stymied by the sheer amount—a number of worm-eaten papers lay haphazardly on the floor, trailing along to a closet on the opposite end from the desk, its door left ever so slightly ajar.
And sand. An inordinate amount of sand. It’s just all over the place.
Plants seem to be growing from it—gorse bushes that have grown tall off of the emotions contained within, clambering up the walls like ivy well past an acceptable height, reaching up to the floor above.
Through the holes in the ceiling, you can see that night has fallen. ]
There are clear markers of wealth here—delicately formed moulding on the walls (but the astute will note the wallpaper resembles a certain house, not anything from ZRAEL’s dorm or Aradia’s memories), and stained glass windows (themselves resembling a certain hotel), a hook on what remains of the ceiling where a chandelier once was and a winding staircase, fitted with ornate golden banisters.
Silhouettes line the path between the stairs and the exit behind you, all indistinguishable and entirely featureless save for the curve to their dresses—if you look, they seem to be maids.
And so it is, if nothing else, clear that this was a beautiful room, once.
But now it is dilapidated, cluttered, with stale and stifling air—there may have been some effort to organize judging by the way that much of the mess seems localized to a desk off in a far corner beneath the stairs, but it’s clearly stymied by the sheer amount—a number of worm-eaten papers lay haphazardly on the floor, trailing along to a closet on the opposite end from the desk, its door left ever so slightly ajar.
And sand. An inordinate amount of sand. It’s just all over the place.
Plants seem to be growing from it—gorse bushes that have grown tall off of the emotions contained within, clambering up the walls like ivy well past an acceptable height, reaching up to the floor above.
Through the holes in the ceiling, you can see that night has fallen. ]
[ As if it were all a dream—
you stand, uninjured, back on solid ground, in front of a ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ house. It is quaint in appearance, small in size but lively, with a garden and ■■■■ off to the side; through the open screen door, the scent of a home-cooked meal wafts through the air.
■■■■■■■■ line the path between you and the entrance1. ]
[ 1 - Welcome home. ]
you stand, uninjured, back on solid ground, in front of a ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ house. It is quaint in appearance, small in size but lively, with a garden and ■■■■ off to the side; through the open screen door, the scent of a home-cooked meal wafts through the air.
■■■■■■■■ line the path between you and the entrance1. ]
[ 1 - Welcome home. ]
[ stops, staring down at himself
oh that's different.
also completely inefficient. ok let's see if this works ]
oh that's different.
also completely inefficient. ok let's see if this works ]
[ He waves an arm in greeting!
And hearing your voice, he sets his reflector down in his lap, sitting himself up; pushing his sunglasses up to rest at his forehead, you can see that he’s squinting. ]
Yo -
[ And then he pauses, cutting himself off, watching you carefully.
It’s strange. Their appearances are completely different—some may actually recognize him from a few memories of Aradia’s—but when he speaks the voice sounds distinctly like … uh
You.
Actually.
Huh. ]
[ Is the feeling of being bathed once more in Luna's light because they have their canon powers back or because they're busy losing their shit over the phone message??? who can truly say.
anyway time to kiss the screen of their phone and hold it to their forehead. ]
Daughter of Luna, do you think I ought to keep this form for this journey? I've grown terribly tired of being trapped like this for so long.
anyway time to kiss the screen of their phone and hold it to their forehead. ]
Daughter of Luna, do you think I ought to keep this form for this journey? I've grown terribly tired of being trapped like this for so long.
Oh, if you're feeling tired of being in that body, then it's okay for you to change it if you want to, isn't it? If you can, then I think that's fine...
[ It's not like you hear a voice or anything, exactly, but those words are a distinct sense that you get, somehow - the undeniable feeling that your question has been acknowledged and answered, in some way. ]
[ It's not like you hear a voice or anything, exactly, but those words are a distinct sense that you get, somehow - the undeniable feeling that your question has been acknowledged and answered, in some way. ]
[huh
squints at the guy suspiciously like
he's seen the guy in dia's memories but is it somehow possible he's emiya shirou in a clever disguise*
*emiya shirou has never worn a clever disguise in his life, he thinks he can hide his identity by slicking back his hair]
squints at the guy suspiciously like
he's seen the guy in dia's memories but is it somehow possible he's emiya shirou in a clever disguise*
*emiya shirou has never worn a clever disguise in his life, he thinks he can hide his identity by slicking back his hair]
[ activated.
once he's done he's going to head over to the young man (is he recognizable from dia's memories?) ]
. . . Excuse me.
once he's done he's going to head over to the young man (is he recognizable from dia's memories?) ]
. . . Excuse me.
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