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WE LIKE JAMJARS HERE RIGHT

THE EXTREMELY SPECIFIC FAKE JAMJAR MEME

Unlike our very open-ended regular fake jamjar meme, this is a little different. We've got a specific place in mind. Obsidian Resort, a beautiful lakeside locale with swimming, boating, fishing, all your usual pursuits. The lake is large and the area is mostly forest-covered save the lodge itself and a very small town of locals. Why are you here? To relax, of course! Every local and staff member call the place an utopia and for good reason: everything is serene and all expenses are paid. Have fun! Oh, but don't go out into the woods at night. It might go badly for you.

This meme is based in a fantasy-horror jamjar setting. While the lodge is beautiful and comfortable (if strange about the edges, with secrets at every turn), go too far into the lake or into the forests and you'll find any kind of horror imaginable. Creatures, natural pitfalls, curses, you name it, it's there. You can ask the locals but they'll react as though they have no idea what you're talking about or be very cagey. Your character has been provided a communications device for their stay, able to contact other guests or staff with text, audio, or video. Treat the location as a fun romp, a horror show, or both. You'll be perfectly safe if you stick to the public lodging and lakeside. With everyone in the same location, it makes it easy to interact! Have fun, esteemed guests!

• Post a top-level. It can be a log starter, a network post, anything you like. Don't leave it blank! Give people something to reply to. Treat this like the TDM for a new game.
• Reply to others' top-levels!
• Have fun!

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A. POST

Hey...anyone else notice? I can't be the only one that's noticed there's something creepy in that lake! I know I felt teeth earlier. I've got the bite marks! When I asked the guy at the front desk about it, he insisted I was talking nonsense.

B. LOG STARTER

[Setsuna puffs out two wings and peers into the forest, before rushing in. He knows he heard a scream from coming deep inside, and saw some huge, skulking, scaly thing slip in there just moments before. But it's so dark. Doesn't matter - someone could be in trouble, and he WANTED to just walk away, and he tried. But in the end, he can't.]

[Stories. Sarah had always, always been a sucker for stories. And the stories the locals told were just as colorful and outlandish as one would expect. Yet there was one common theme the locals seemed to emphasize over and over that was never elaborated on. Their stories never included it, glanced right over it in fact to focus on local urban legends all surrounding the resort itself. And while that was nice and all, Sarah's mind couldn't let go of that one emphasized thing.

Don't go into the woods at night.

She had listened too even if her eyes did at times stray to the forest line just outside her resort room's window. They had their warnings for a reason and even if she was curious, even if it was almost like the woods themselves called to her, she did steer clear of going too close to them. She even stuck to her room, dutifully writing away at her latest fantasy work. That had been going well too.

Then one night she woke up with her teeth practically rattling as if someone had shook her awake. Her heart was pounding madly in her ears, breath snatched up in short gasps as she reeled from the sudden awakening and tried to gain her bearings only to be confused by the dampness against her bare feet. The sensation hit her almost as soon as the realization of dampness in the air as well -- a fog around her, cold night air around her, the stickiness of humidity against her face.

And all around her? Trees stretched thick and dark against the starlit night sky above. She tilted her head upward and let go of a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in until now.]

... I'm outside?

[How? Had she sleepwalked or... ?]

Edited 2019-07-17 02:52 (UTC)

[Most people heed the warning. But for some, the warning is just a big neon sign that screams "this is where you'll find the way home". Fear of the night has always seemed ridiculous to Ryan — it's a bunch of superstitious nonsense that's perpetuated by the instinctive fear of what predators might be hiding in the shadows. Humans aren't apes swinging in the trees anymore, and with a portable light source, there's no need to be afraid of the dark. Really, the biggest thing to fear in the cover of night is other humans looking to do things they don't want to be caught doing.

So, Ryan decided to travel to the woods in the dark. He's always had excellent night vision, and he's already accustomed to softening his footfalls. Unlike Sarah, he's as prepared as he can be to do a little exploration. He almost just passes right by and leaves her there, but... she's clearly not here on purpose. The poor girl is only in her pajamas without so much as slippers to cover her feet. How can he just leave her? With a sigh, Ryan slips out from between the trees to approach her.

He doesn't stop to think that his quiet footsteps and reflective red eyes will likely spook her, but he probably should have.]

Are you lost?

Edited 2019-07-17 06:40 (UTC)

[It's like watching water ripple from a pebble being heaved into it the way Sarah starts at the sound of another voice. She turns carefully and ends up directing her confused gaze over to those reflective red eyes.

She freezes a moment, unable to help herself. It's not every day you wake up somewhere completely different and hear what you think is a human voice. Paired with the reflective eyes that's the only conclusion her brain can immediately leap to. The Underground had taught her a thing or two about not everything being as it seems after all. Or maybe in this case it's not everything being as it sounds.

Running seems ill-advised too though. She's barefooted out here without lights or weaponry of any sort. What was the line from that book? "You must never run from anything immortal; it attracts their attention." She hadn't a clue if this was similar but she's willing to bet on the logic of not displaying fear in the face of something that could potentially be deadly.

So in the end she lets go of another breath. Her reply comes out firmer, very little shakiness to her tone. One could almost dismiss what there is there as her being cold. The night air is nippy and she's out here in shorts and a t-shirt.]

I'm not sure.

[She's not about to answer 'yes' or 'no'.]

[At least his eyes are only reflective. They don't glow, and as he approaches and fishes a dim flashlight out of his pocket, some of the eeriness about him fades. He shines it down at her feet, sighing.]

We're thirty minutes from the edge of the woods. Are you trying to tell me you came this far barefoot on purpose?

[There's no way. But Ryan can appreciate that she may not want to seem vulnerable, because heaven knows he hates showing weakness. He holds out the flashlight to her, digging around in his oversized bag with one hand.]

Here, hold this. I'll get something to cover your feet with, at least. At this rate, they'll go numb and you'll step on something sharp without realizing it.

[That question seems to do the trick for raising Sarah's ire at least. She doesn't try to curtail her exasperated tone.]

Of course not.

[Alright Sarah, no need to bite his head off. Now that she knows he's at least mostly tangible if not human (or maybe he is but she's not making assumptions here), a great deal of what fear she did have tucked away just drops right off. If he's somewhat tangible then she reasons she can hit him if need be.

... Y'know, with the flashlight he just handed her? She blinks down at it as he digs in his bag.
That and his words sort of take the anger out of her sails for a moment.]

I woke up here.

[The question is had she walked here? If they're thirty minutes from the edge of the woods that's a hell of a long ways to walk when thoroughly dead asleep. She looks back out into the woods in the direction he'd come from now. It was all shadows of trees and peeps of equally dark sky in between.]

That's a long way to sleep walk. Do you take ambien?

[The overshoes he brought in case he came across deep water... probably won't fit her. Ryan may have a small frame, but his feet are fairly average sized for a man. But if he helps her wrap her feet with some ace wrap and straps them down securely, she won't get blisters from the friction of wearing ill-fitting shoes. Now that he has both hands, Ryan is able to shrug his bag off and bring it around to the front. After a little more digging, he produces a pair of odd-looking boots.]

They aren't your size, but they'll do. I have a first aid kit, so if you're worried about getting blisters, we can wrap your feet first.

[Narrowing his eyes, Ryan twists slightly to follow Sarah's gaze and look over his shoulder. There's nothing there. All right. Good, she was probably just seeing if she could spot a path back to the resort.]

They send a quick text message:

im going 2 the trees

It was meant for a friend, but they didn't do it right, and the message is sent over the entire communication system. Not that they notice, turning the device silent and shoving it deep into a pocket.

Staying at the lodge is too stifling. Frisk needs to explore.

If it gets them hurt--or worse--that'll suck, but they've had worse.

Probably.

The whole place makes Gav slightly nervous and slightly sad, and would even if he was certain how he got here. He can't fully appreciate this sort of sylvan idyll anymore. The lodge and its little satellite village, solid homely wooden buildings, fill him with unease.

It's better down by the lake. There are a lot of people, still, but not as closely gathered, and if he wanders along the shore for a while, toward the inflowing stream and the falls, things are peaceful enough. After a while it occurs to him to check his pockets.

So you'll find him, a short walk from the lodge: a rangy, dark, somber young man sitting cross-legged on a stone by the water, fishing.

Curly McLain has a streak of mischief and ease about him. Normally, the man exudes a lazy confidence about himself, warm around the edges, but he's also wiry and squirrely and this whole place has started to put him on edge. He doesn't even know how he got here. There shouldn't be anything like this place in Oklahoma for miles, and he hadn't left the territory. It was nice at first (and at least he had his guitar), but now he's just... anxious. He needs some company.

Gavir just happens to be a friendly enough lookin' face that Curly strolls up right to him from the lakeside path and asks, "You catch anythin' yet, feller?"

He looks around, taking the stranger in with a glance. He's grown warier, over these last few years of freedom, though maybe not wary enough; but there's no overt threat in the man, no telltale swagger, and Gav offers him a small smile. "Not so far."

The not-disapproving reception is invitation enough for Curly to take a seat by him. Hope you don't mind, Gav.

He plops himself down on the shore and looks out over the water. "Reckon you could skip a couple'a stones over this here lake and get 'em pretty far. Wouldn't scare the fish for ya, would it?"

A little shrug. "It might, but that's all right. I was mostly passing the time." He glances over again as the stranger sits down, this time rather curiously, but ventures no questions. He's never quite sure what to do with this kind of casual friendliness, even now.

Curly pauses a moment. He reaches behind him and grabs a few of the stones on the bank, then chucks one across the lake. It makes one pitiful skip, then sinks. That's... well, okay.

He tries again. That one gets a bit farther, but the third stone thrown just sails straight into the water with an unceremonious plip.. He shrugs. "Well, I ain't ever said I skipped stones before."

He reaches out a hand to the side for Gav to shake. "Name's Curly McLain. Figured I'd talk to a couple'a the folks here."

All right, that's disarming enough that a laugh bubbles out of him despite his caution. "I have, but I'm not very good at it." He reaches across to take the proffered hand, since that seems to be what's expected. "Gavir Aytana. Gav," in case the man finds his proper name as peculiar as Gav finds his.

It still feels a little strange sometimes to introduce himself that way, but at least when he blushes it's not obvious.

"Well, howdy, Gav." Curly's grip is strong and he gives him a single firm shake. "You from Persia er some other place?"

Persia's about the only country he can name off the top of his head that's got names so foreign-sounding. Ali Hakim says he's from, but he only says as much, and Curly isn't so keen to take every word from a peddler at face value.

Where he's from is a complicated subject, he reflects as he coils up the makeshift fishing line. "No, I never heard of it. Is that where you come from?"

He waves a hand. "Naw, I ain't Persian. I'm from Oklahoma. Y'know it? Got lotsa air, lotsa room, lotsa fields an' animals. People there're mighty nice."

Curly grabs another rock off the shore and starts tossing it between his hands. He was never the type to sit too still. "Ain't like this place at all. 'S a lot cooler here, I'll tell ya what. Lot more water too."

Edited 2019-07-21 07:37 (UTC)

"I don't know Oklahoma, either," he admits easily enough. History was always his subject, and the City States don't place a lot of emphasis on world geography, anyway. He picks about among the pebbles, looking for a stone of his own. "Is it a desert, or what?"

He shakes his head. "Ain't quite that hot an' dry. 'S out in the plains is all, lotsa open fields, lotsa sun, and not too many lakes 'er ponds. Weather can get mighty fierce on account'a how open it all is." He chucks the stone he's holding across the lake surface, which makes two lame skips before sinking. He frowns and prods around for another one. "How's about you, Gav? What kinda a place is it you come from? Less'n yer from around here?"

Oh. He did mention that, didn't he. Gav goes hot all over, grateful not for the first time that he doesn't show a blush easily. But Curly doesn't seem bothered by the slip, so after a minute he picks up a flat pebble of his own and hands it across. "No, I'm not." And after a tiny hesitation, "I lived in a place like this, though, for a while. It's very beautiful."

Because he doesn't really want to go into that, either.

"Sure beautiful." His tone there is sort of indiscernible. It isn't quite admiring, though.

A few moments pass before he sits up straight with a less casual, little more sobered look on his face. "Say, I ain't from a place like this so I cain't tell, but--is itj ust me, or does this whole place seem a little..." he tilts his head, "... strange? I've been feelin' all weird since I got here. I ain't think it's just all the trees."

That gets his attention. Gavir lifts his head, studies the man's face for a moment, jolted out of his usual diffidence. "It does," he says slowly. "I thought it was - I thought I was imagining it." Blue and silver buildings in the moonlight. A huge voice, raging. Diero's hand on his hair, Melle's huge haunted eyes watching him through the broken fence. Ashes.

But Curly McLain never saw the Heart of the Forest; such memories can't trouble him.

"What does it make you think of?" he asks, after a moment's thought.

So it's not just him. It's not just the woods--it's not just because he's been displaced somewhere so different from the plains. There's something in this place.

His voice goes soft and low; his expression tenses. "Reckon it makes me think'a them cornfields at night, whens the moon ain't clear and there ain't a single light out there. You go walkin' down that road through the field, even though you ain't supposed to, and you see somethin' in that field. Somethin' that tells ya exactly why fellers don't go outside when the moon's out."

He looks at Gavir straight, his eyes shadowed by his brow. "You ever been to a cornfield, Gav? They's grown so tight together you cain't see through 'em at all, and they's taller than any man's head. Real easy to get lost in 'em. Real easy fer somethin' to hide, too."

Edited (sorry for the edits!) 2019-07-30 03:34 (UTC)

"I never was that close," he says, a little self-consciously. Brought up soft. "But I see what you mean, I think." The reeds on either side of him, the blue water, the green hill. "It - it ought to be safe, but it isn't," and his throat closes unexpectedly, making him stumble a little over the words.

"That's exactly right." Curly looks off into the dark between the trees. They seem just as endless as the corn fields, or the waving wheat. "I ain't see nothin' come from them woods, but, you know, sommin' jus' might. Ain't wanna stick around when it does."

[Well, this hotel was no Hano Grand Resort, but it had seemed like a decent enough place to end up after apparently going through an Ultra Wormhole... at least, until the odd occurrences started happening. Admittedly, all things considered, as someone from a world where hauntings were a very real and reasonably common occurrence, he didn't consider it that weird, but usually Pokemon didn't seem so bizarrely malicious? And people would actually, you know, talk about them instead of being weirdly cagey! Just admit you've got an infestation Bannette in the attic already.

All in all, the experience had gone from pleasant to extremely irritating in a not insignificant amount of time, and then from irritating to... well... unsettling. But Faba was a very important Branch Chief who was interested in preserving the experience for the sake of his own edification- well, no, everyone's edification! Definitely everyone's.

...so in a corner of the Obsidian Lodge, he's sitting with a laptop typing a very unfavorable review of the hotel for his blog-UH, A REPORT FOR THE AETHER FOUNDATION, DEFINITELY A REPORT FOR THE AETHER FOUNDATION. And, well, he's got some weird tapir creature standing behind him like some sort of bodyguard...

...and then something crashes not too far away, and Faba slams the laptop shut with an undignified "Eek!" and begins looking around for the source.]

What... what was that?

[...of course, he is in the public area, so it's probably nothing super spooky, but tensions are getting a little high here. Maybe you'll investigate with him? Or... maybe you're the source of the crash...]

[ Crow is the source of the crash. There are some broken chairs as well as a wall somehow and so he's visibly rising to his feet now.

He has a gun with him. Actually, two guns.

When he rises and turns to face Faba at the sound, that may or may not be intimidating because wow he's certainly loaded!! Then he just holsters one to wipe at his pants but the dust jusy smudges and he shrugs. ]

...that went well.

Edited 2019-07-18 23:21 (UTC)

[...

WHAT THE FUCK WHY DOES THIS YOUNG MAN HAVE SO MANY GUNS? WHO HAS GUNS AND NOT, SAY, TRAINED ATTACK CREATURES, LIKE THE HYPNO CURRENTLY GIVING CROW A STINKEYE]

...what were you even doing? Why do you have so many guns?

Fancy meeting you there.

[ He sounds so cheery despite the state of everything... ]

...Oh, these? I carry them with me every where I go. You never know what may happen.

Say, what's with the little guy? He's kind of looking at me like I have two heads.

[ He ~~dodged~~ kind of didn't answer the first question, distracted by how unique the Hypno looks. ]

Edited 2019-07-19 00:00 (UTC)

...but it's not like they're Pokemon! You don't even have plausible deniability with those, which is making my Hypno very nervous.

[the weird tapir thing nods very seriously.]

Right, right.

I have no idea what Pokemon are, but...

[ He holsters the other gun as well. ]

If I tell you, promise you won't freak out?

About what you're doing, I mean? I know what guns are.

[... and then he points at the Hypno.]

That's a Pokemon, by the way.

...So, does that mean you have a pretty good idea of what I'm doing?

[ He comes closer to get a better look. ]

And do they all look like that?

No, I'm absolutely clueless about that. Were you trying to renovate the place?

And no, Pokemon come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. They seem to be to us what "animals" are to people here, except Pokemon would cause an immediate ecological disaster if they were introduced in this world because they would outcompete basically everything in a decade or so.

...Not really. I was in the middle of fighting something dangerous.

[ ...question is whether that sounds reassuring or not. ]

Really? Is this the only one you have right now?

Oh, was it one of the ghosts the staff doesn't want to deal with for some reason?

And no, I have two more with me. But did you finish dealing with whatever it was?

[he doesn't sound as concerned as he could be, because hell. he's got strong pokemon. he can probably fuck up whatever it is even with type disadvantage.]

Bingo.

[ Got it in one, Faba! He even points a finger at him as he says it...and then let's his hand fall to his side. ]

No, I didn't finish it off. It luckily got away before I could manage.

Well, that's not lucky for us since it's probably going to try and haunt us more, and the staff will continue to pretend nothing is wrong.

Probably. But, desperate times call for desperate measures, if you get what I mean.

[ Though just in case....! ]

As in, two heads are better than one. We should see if we could track it down together.


[POST TO LOCAL NETWORK]
Good drinks at the hotel bar, always charmed by a miniature umbrella and a willingness to overpour. Interesting lights in the woods at night too. Wonder what THAT'S about.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

WE LIKE JAMJARS HERE RIGHT

Setsuna Mudou | Angel Sanctuary | OTA

Sarah Williams | Return to Labyrinth | OTA

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Frisk ♥ Undertale ♥ OTA

Gavir | Annals of the Western Shore | OTA | so extremely voicetesting

voice testing buddies!

we need a secret handshake!

:D

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wow hi what is time

(waving emoji)

Faba | Pokemon Special | OTA

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Professor Hojo || FFVII || OTA ||