missrecalled_mods: (Isle Unwelcome)
Missrecalled Mods ([personal profile] missrecalled_mods) wrote in [community profile] the_isle2025-05-15 02:28 am

Your Friends Have Turned To Stone

As usual, the horrible thing happened around midnight. There was a terrible noise like stone scraping on stone and the whole school shook briefly and then they appeared. Crudely hewn stone statues that still somehow managed to evoke the memory of who they were meant to represent to those who knew them.

The statues were of enemies, foes, rivals, anyone that one of the Misery-called might never want to see again. The statues look like rough hewn stone, but any attempts to deal with them the way one might a stone statue would fail. Even moving them would prove impossible, even with team work.

There is one blocking the doorway to every room used as a bedroom currently. A person could get in and out past them if they are small enough, nimble enough, or just don't mind losing a chunk of skin to the rough stone as they scrape past. Those ones would especially be targeted at whoever sleeps there.

But the rest of them will scatter the halls, making them hard to transverse. The majority of them were blocking what little light sources existed in the halls, making the passageways darker than usual. Much darker. Darker enough that it almost seems like a prime place for jump scares...

Blocking the doorway out of the school were three such statues. One was of a young man with short hair. One was of a young woman in a ballgown with a skirt that alone took up most of the doorway. And one was of a barefoot girl with impossibly long hair that snaked down the hallway, making a tripping hazard all the way between the door and the room Mother Gothel had claimed.

Getting in and out of the school until at least one of the statues was removed was going to be nearly impossible.

The statues in general couldn't be moved or broken in any conventional way, however. But some trial and error... or just happenstance might well provide the answer. If the Misery-called who knew the person the statue represented talked about the person to someone else in front of the statue... That would work. Though what they said would matter.

If they managed to dredge up something to say, some tale or anecdote or comment that was actually positive... the statue would vanish in a haze of black and silver glitter that would spread everywhere in easy reach and defy all attempts to clean it.

However, if the story or comments are negative, or give away some secret that the person the statue is of would not want shared the statue will explode in a shower of stone, one stone of which would hit the Misery-called hard enough to hurt but not to break skin. However where the stone struck the Misery-called would bear a new scar. A small pile of stone would remain where the statue had been, also resting all attempts to move or remove it, causing anyone walking past to have to carefully step over it so as to not trip. Which is not ideal if one is carrying something, or for example, running away from a crazed animatronic.

When The Mess Fades - A week later.
A week after they appeared any remaining statues would just vanish with another loud and horrifying noise. As would all the scars, all the rubble piles, and all the glitter. In their place where each statue had been would be a small bunch of grapes covered in rock dust. They are extraordinarily sour. In theory edible once the dust is washed off. In practice only the desperate would want to eat them. Whoever does eat them will be plagued by nightmares about whoever the statue had been of, even if they didn't know the person themselves. The nightmares will only happen for one night after eating the grapes, but if someone stretches out the grapes to eat a few every night for a week... that is a week of bad dreams. And also, again, they are sour. The sourest candy in the world isn't half as sour as these grapes.

ubuntu_programmer: (Are You Kidding Me?)

Ian Wright | Quantum Leap | CW: accidental self harm

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-16 09:40 am (UTC)(link)
The First Statue
Ian was having enough trouble waking up to find themselves on the Isle rather than at home working to bring back Ben. And Sam. Technically the code should help them bring back Sam too. If they could ever find him. Ben is the bigger priority at the moment though because Ben was their best bet at knowing how to deal with....

"WHAT THE HYPERCHARGE!?: Anyone nearby could hear Ian's started exclamation.


Ian jumped back and then... realized it was a statue. Their hand curled into fists. This was the person who had been causing them all so much heart ache. Who was the reason why Magic...

Frustration boiled over and Ian found themselves acting more like Jenn or Addison as they pulled back and punched the statue in the face.

Anyone who missed the exclamation before could hardly miss the cry of pain as glass canon Ian dropped to the ground cradling their fist. Thankfully they remembered enough of Jenn's lessons to not break their hand, but that still hurt.

Okay maybe that wasn't what Jenn or Addy would have done. They would have been smart enough to have grabbed a chair or a desk or something. Only silver lining was neither of them were there to lecture Ian. Who was right now somewhere between self loathing and loathing Gideon... who seemed to be smirking down at them even now.


Statue, my friend?
Once someone helped Ian get past the statue in the doorway to their room, Ian was trying to get outside to get to the beach. Cold salt water on their fist would probably hurt but was probably what they needed. But the halls were full of other statues. Ian was trying to figure out how to get past the ones that were strangers but then got stopped by....

"Ben? BEN!"

It almost didn't matter that it was a statue. It was Ben! But why... why both Gideon and Ben, why connect them and... Then Ian noticed the statue behind Ben, back to back with him, hands held between them. "Addison. Of course." Ian's eyes were welling up. "Of course your statues would be together." Whatever it was that brought them here at all.

They... didn't have to destroy all the statues... right?




(OOC: other statue possibilities if anyone wants them: Jenn, Magic, Janis, Beth, or Rachel. Or we can just run through them in a single go...)
fallen_child: (Simmish angry)

Chara | Undertale | CW: Self harm, abuse, hate, genocide mentions.

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-17 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Waking Up Is Hard To Do - Locked to Sun and/or FoulquesChara woke up with a yawn which turned into a scream as they rolled over and saw the statues in the doorway. Well, mostly they were fixated on one of them, probably the smallest statue on all of the Isle. A rough hewn statue... of Chara themself.


Escape - OTA
As soon as Chara could, the traumatized child fled the school, running to the beach. Looking desperate enough that they looked like they might keep running - right into the ocean - if not stopped. Their face was tear streaked.


professorsong: (Silencing the silence)

River Song | OTA | Cw: murder mentions

[personal profile] professorsong 2025-05-17 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Tick Tock Goes the Clock

Because River was the only one left on the Isle who knew where the secret hidden room in the school was, no one was with River when she faced and braced her first statue. And she was on her own to figure it out. She did, eventually. Mostly by wondering what the Doctor would do, and realizing he would talk at it... yeah she's still both surprised and annoyed that it worked. But not as annoyed as she is at her new scar. It looked like lightning hit her in her temple and forked into two jagged lines around her eye - one above one below, as if sketching out a rough outline of an eye patch.

But for all she was ticked off, she was also singing under her breath. A nursery rhyme. Or rather a series of connected ones. She sung it in a very low sing song, at first not quite aware she was doing it, but by the end she was aware enough that she was able to change the lyrics around in a small but crucial way.

"Tick tock goes the clock,
And what now shall we play?
Tick tock goes the clock,
Now summer's gone away.

Tick tock goes the clock,
And what then shall we see?
Tick tock, until the day,
That thou shalt marry me.

Tick tock goes the clock,
And all the years they fly.
Tick tock and all too soon,
You and I must die.

Tick tock goes the clock,
We laughed at fate and mourned her.
Tick tock goes the clock,
Even for the Doctor.

Tick tock goes the clock,
He cradled and he rocked her.
Tick tock goes the clock,
Even for the Doctor.

Tick tock goes the clock...
Tick tock goes the clock...
Tick tock goes the clock...

Doctor, brave and good,
He turned away from violence.
When he understood,
The falling of the Silence.

Tick tock goes the clock,
He gave all he could give her.
Tick tock goes the clock,
Now prison waits for River.


Tick tock goes the clock,
And all the years they fly.
Tick tock, and all too soon,
Your love will surely DIE.

Tick tock goes the clock,
He cradled and he rocked her.
Tick tock goes the clock,
'Til River."


She stopped the song there and smiled. "Hello, Sweetie," She turned and... that was Not the Doctor behind her. At least she was pretty sure it wasn't. "Either this is a better prank than our last date or he is getting worse at this game. Oh well, we should probably stick together. Also we're going to need markers."



Weeping Angel
Most of the statues River seemed pretty blasΓ© about them, chatting even as they worked around them, or explaining what they were, telling the story, taking the new scars without seeming concern. Until she saw what looked like a statue of a weeping angel. River froze, eyes locked on its shoulder. "Keep your eyes on it, don't look away, don't even blink. Not its eyes, shoulder. Look at its shoulder. Or its wings. But whatever you do don't look away. Do we have a mirror handy?" All playfulness was gone and this was a serious side of River fw here had ever seen.


Sort of my ex husband?
There was a rather... odd looking one looming in a doorway. "Oh you just have to go and be creepy don't you?" she said. Then she turned to whoever was with her. "Care to meet my ex husband? Well, sort of my Ex. Or... sort of my husband? Or maybe husbands. It's a bit of a story actually," she said, amused. "Do you call a husband an ex if you killed him? I mean I generally don't but in this case I might make an exception..."



Monster Of The Week
Pick your poison of:
Dalek
Cyberman
Swarm In A Suit (Vashta Narada)
Or other Doctor Who monsters she might have faced. (Not the Silence though... >,>)

Edited 2025-05-17 16:14 (UTC)
mist_the_point: (Small smirk)

First Statue

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-19 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
Foulques had heard the exclamation and thus had arrived just in time to see Ian take a swing at the statue. With a bit of a wry smirk, he moved to offer Ian a hand up as well as he could with the statue in the way. "A more impressive punch than I might have expected from you," he said. "Though a rather poor choice of target. When it comes to a contest of flesh against stone, the stone will always be the victor."
Edited 2025-05-19 06:02 (UTC)
mist_the_point: (Fear)

Waking Up

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-19 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
Foulques had only just begun to stir himself, but at the sound of the scream, he was rolling to his feet and into a fighting stance, spear in hand, almost before he knew what he was doing. As consciousness caught up with reflexes however, he quickly realized that there was no enemy to threaten them, and holstered his spear. Now thoroughly awake, he moved to kneel by Chara. "Chara?", he said. "Are you hurt? Why did you scream?"
dualityinjest: (Moon 02)

Sun/Moon 🌞🌜⭐ OTA

[personal profile] dualityinjest 2025-05-19 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
Earlier on....
The statues related to the jester are... mundane. All adult humans, all in some kind of uniform. Not one of them looks like they'd be some sort of supervillain. Not really. They were just... company workers. People who should've been helping clean up and tend to kids alongside him. Most seemed a bit young. Many of them might've even looked like pleasant enough people. Or at least, benign presences. Maybe their name tags held some clue? ...No, they weren't detailed enough for that....

But more worryingly, Sun was, at first, nowhere to be found. Moon, however, had taken to lurking in one of the darker hallways, mostly silently now, thanks to the jester having gotten the thick oil he'd needed into his joints.

If someone were in the area to cross paths with him, they'd have precious few clues: the very quiet sounds of his movements? Maybe. The soft jingle of the bells on his wrists, the toes of his shoes, and the end of his hat? Perhaps. He was interestingly skilled at moving without sounding them, when he tried. The soft creak of metal -- the tops of the locker banks -- when he stalked low along them? The glow of red from his eyes' lights, as he searched for targets? Probably.

His creepy cackling when he detected someone's presence? Absolutely.

Later....
Specifically, before 24 hours had even passed....

If Moon hadn't been dealt with yet... someone might actually have to go looking for him.

Had Sun's efforts to declutter and generally un-trash the school been enough, that someone could spot the shape that didn't quite belong, hanging down over some lockers, over the heads of the nearby statues? It was a long, narrowing triangle of shiny fabric of some sort, as gray as the stone surrounding them all, but unmarked by paint... and tipped with a large gold bell. A very large gold bell, all things considered... it was nearly two inches across. Just like the bells on Sun's wrists and shoes.

If someone were tall enough to peer over the top of the lockers -- or light enough and thought to climb some nearby statues to help them do so -- they'd find that the thin belled shape was the tail end of Moon's hat. He was curled up there, face-down on his hands, as if using them for a pillow... but interestingly, he wasn't white and blue. Not one yellow star was anywhere to be seen on him. He was gray. A light, half-translucent-on-the-outside whitish gray, all over his shell, with his hat, pants, and ruffles a more middling sort of gray. The ribbons around his wrists were still red, his bells were still gold, his shoes brownish, and perhaps the exposed computer parts on the back of his head could count...? The silver of his metal endoskeleton, the joints between the dull whitish-gray sections of his plates? But no real color.

Nor was he responsive to anything. He wouldn't simply be waking up if disturbed. If someone wanted to drag him down, he'd be limp and malleable... and shockingly lightweight, if they weren't already that familiar with the jester -- he probably only weighed about as much as a child himself, hollow inside and plastic, all length and gangly limbs.
Edited 2025-05-25 09:20 (UTC)
ubuntu_programmer: (Are You Kidding Me?)

Re: First Statue

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-21 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll try and remember to thank Jenn," they said dryly, trying to figure out how to accept the help without touching the statue. "Don't suppose you have a sledge hammer handy?" And maybe some muscles they could borrow to swing it...
fallen_child: (Simmish angry)

Re: Waking Up

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-21 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Chara pointed a shaking hand at the small statue, unable to look away from it, shaking terribly.
mist_the_point: (Default)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-22 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
He looked where Chara was pointing and saw that three stone statues blocked the doorway. One of Chara themself on the left hand side, one of a young man he didn't recognize on the right- though even rough-hewn, the uniform he wore looked somewhat familiar-, and in the center... His eyes narrowed at the visage of the Miqo'te who stood there, a man whose smirk he recognized even in this form.

But his own anger was put aside for the moment; it would do no good for Chara. "They are statues of stone, nothing more," he assured them. "Though I'm certain their presence is part of this place's poor sense of humor, they can do you no harm."
mist_the_point: (Small smirk)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-22 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
"That won't be necessary," he said. "And frankly I'm uncertain if force would be effective on these particular statues."

"Instead, tell me a bit about this man. What has he done to you that his mere image inspires you to violence?"
fallen_child: (Simmish angry)

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-23 11:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Why does it look like that?!" they asked outrage trying to cover terror.
ubuntu_programmer: (Furrowed Pained)

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-23 11:06 am (UTC)(link)
"I'd rather not. If I could I'd never even think about him again after what he did to Magic."
mist_the_point: (Default)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-23 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't know," he admitted, frowning at the statues. "Though given that they were clearly put there by magic- it would have been impossible to carve one such statue in secret here, let alone three, even if one did have decent tools-, I don't doubt that there is a reason."

"What about them frightens you so, though? They're going to be troublesome to move to allow us to get out of the room, to be sure, but there's nothing particularly alarming about them."
mist_the_point: (Small smirk)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-23 10:53 pm (UTC)(link)
'Magic' he could tell, was a name in this case, or more likely a nickname, rather than referring to the phenomenon. Perhaps a great mage that they knew from their own world? Clearly someone they cared for in any case.

"Then you may find it rather difficult to get out of the room," he said. "For tis not a hammer or chisel that's required to break these statues, but words. More specifically, words about the person who the statue is made in the image of. I had to speak of a man I detest to get out of mine as well."
Edited 2025-05-23 22:54 (UTC)
fallen_child: (Simmish)

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-24 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
"Why dos it look like... like....." like them but human, but they didn't want to put that into words, it was too scary.
ubuntu_programmer: (Listening)

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-24 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
...........................

"Please tell me this is a joke and I just do not understand your sense of humor."
mist_the_point: (Small smirk)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-24 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Well you could try punching it again, if you believe that will be more effective," Foulques said dryly. "But no, I'm not joking. Though I suspect that whatever gods or forces govern how this strange, crossed world operates are having quite the jest at our expense."
mist_the_point: (Default)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-24 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
He was puzzled. "The one on the right is no one I know," he said. "The one in the middle, however, I do, or at least did. And the one on the left is you, albeit crudely carved, like both of the others. They look like that because the people they were meant to represent do, though why these three figures in particular were chosen, I can't say."
ubuntu_programmer: (Furrowed Pained)

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-24 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Can I just throw a blanket over it or something?" They asked disgusted.
fallen_child: (Simmish)

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-24 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
"That can't be me! I don't want it! Make it go away!" Chara yelled, though it was a desperate sort of begging, just loud. The child moved to hide behind Foulques' legs.
mist_the_point: (Default)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-24 08:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, so that was it. He didn't quite understand why, but the child was afraid of their own appearance. He'd assumed that the child was aware that deciding to call themselves a monster didn't magically alter their visage to match, but apparently not.

"What would you have me do, child?", he said. "I can't smash stone with my bare hands, and a spear would be equally ineffective. And in any case..." He crouched again, turning to face Chara, resting a hand on their shoulder. "There are some truths from which one cannot run or hide, and the truth one sees in the mirror- or in this case, a statue made in one's image- is one of those truths." His tone was gentle, but his hand steady and firm.
mist_the_point: (Small smirk)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-24 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"A waste of a good blanket, if your man is anything like mine," he said. "And that would still leave you effectively trapped."
fallen_child: (Awkward)

[personal profile] fallen_child 2025-05-25 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
"No! that's not me! I'm a Monster! A MONSTER!" they cried, hiding their face in Foulques' clothes, sobbing as they pulled on then tops of their ears desperately like they were trying to make them grow or something.
ubuntu_programmer: (Are You Kidding Me?)

[personal profile] ubuntu_programmer 2025-05-25 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
Ian looked disgusted. "How long do things like this last here? I once went an entire day where I forgot to eat or go to the bathroom because I was in a game tournament, I'm sure I can get that involved again."
mist_the_point: (Thoughtful)

[personal profile] mist_the_point 2025-05-25 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
Foulques took hold of their hands and gently pulled them away from their ears lets they hurt themselves. "You are precisely who you say you are," he said gently. "But deciding that it is so doesn't change one's appearance, and neither will pulling on your ears like that. And for my part I see no cause for fear or shame in your appearance. Your body has served you well all your life, and carried you through many trials; I would not see you harm yourself in a vain attempt to change its form."

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