Trappers is we by the works of hands

REGAINS
Her wood nymph form
A choker necklace
A treebeast
A magic plum tree
The rest of her shapeshifting ability (vine arms and such)
A creepy eyeball flower
Frogbeast eggs
2 person-sized pitcher plants

VIKTORIA'S CREEPY GARDEN

Viktoria has taken over a large chunk of the front lawn of 773 Bunker Street with her regains, including:

The Treebeast: Normally, it just looks like an ugly, dead tree. Sometimes it moves in place. It can uproot itself, walk around, and use its branches like arms. IT IS VERY DANGEROUS. It's fast and strong and can punch you into next Tuesday easily. It's basically a smaller but angrier Whomping Willow that can get up and chase after you. It is fiercely loyal to Viktoria and it will do whatever she says. Fortunately, she has it stay at home most of the time, and it will never attack housemates or visitors. However, if it percieves you as a threat or a trespasser, all bets are off.

NOTE/PERMISSIONS: I will never have the treebeast attack any of your characters, unless you'd like to have it chase your dude down the street or whatever, then I am up for plottings! If you app a character and they are sorted into her house, they are automatically on the "do not pummel into a fine paste" list. She might bust it out in the event of a zombie apocalypse, but other than that it is always dormant in the front yard of her house.

Plum tree:This is a (relatively) normal tree, with the only distinction that it grows magic plums year-round. In the games, plums are the only food item that can noticeably restore health. In Mayfield, they can't heal wounds but they can restore energy. Think of them as nature's energy drink!

That creepy eyeball flower: She purposely planted it up front by the sidewalk so it can stare at anyone who walks by. :)

Frogbeast eggs: It's very easy to mistake these for some kind of garden decoration or just plain old rocks. The frogbeasts that hatch from them look exactly like regular frogs, except that they will attack the closest target and explode VERY violently on them. The frogbeasts will always be dormant unless someone actually throws the egg to break it open. It won't attack whoever hatched it.

Pitcher Plants: These are the size of an average human being. That's because they eat people. They might catch a drone or two every now and then, but PCs are safe.

[Phone]

All this talk of dances and holidays is very... quaint. It makes one feel as if we truly are just honest, ordinary citizens of this lovely little town, and we always will be. Doesn't it?

I don't suppose anyone else has noticed that our delightful town has been rather quiet lately? True, we had that little spat with the undead, but I doubt Mayfield will let itself be shown up by one of its very own residents.

Oh, but I don't mean to be entirely negative. Keeping one's spirits high is important in a place such as this. I do find this Halloween most fascinating. There was nothing like it where I come from. Then again, in the city where I resided, people did not find hauntings and the undead very entertaining. I intend to enjoy myself during the coming holiday as best I can, but I'm not going to let my guard down.

[Action]

[After being a killjoy on the phone, Viktoria's moved out to the front yard of 773 Bunker Street to work on landscaping as usual. She's received an interesting addition to her garden: what appears to be an...er... eyeball flower.

She's planted it by the mailbox so it can stare at you as you walk by.

Where does she keep getting this stuff.]

[uh oh, guess who else is feeling chatty today?]

It occurs to me that I have never discussed with anyone here who I truly am. Or rather, who I was, in my previous life before all this. I was a queen. A goddess, worshipped by those who saw the true beauty of the natural world and rejected mankind's cruel attempts to tame it with their roads and their cities. I spent so many years of my life fighting to protect my domain as man's progress became ever more frightening and powerful. I killed many people. I deceived many more. Our goal was the destruction of civilization from the inside, and a return to primal darkness for all mankind. There are those who would call us evil -thems that calls themselves Builders and wielded up a hammers against us- but I believe in my heart we were justified.

I gave my life for this cause. There was an evil man who dreamed of ridding the world of all that is good and natural, leaving only the cold and artificial. He was on the verge of succeeding when I made my bid to stop him.

I do not know if I did, but every day I spend in this unnatural place, I cannot help but feel like I failed. I loathe this town with every fiber of my being and I long for the day when I can do to it what I could not in my world.

I believe Mayfield has a word for its enemies: communists. I am... uncertain of what the term means, exactly, but I and they are surely the same thing: enemies of this town and everything it stands for. I do not deny it. In fact, I feel I should shout it from the rooftops. I do not fear this town, for I have faced death. Come for me, manfools, if you dare.

[Viktoria awoke this morning with the distinct feeling that something was off, a feeling that grew when she stepped outside and saw that the sprouts of her bulbs in the front yard were much taller than she remembered. A quick glance at the newspaper lying in the grass confirmed her suspicions: quite a lot of time had passed that she could not account for. She had an inkling of what she had been up too, though. Time to get caught up. To the telephone!]

I apologize if I was a nuisance during my time among the mindless.

The wasting of a handful of days is usually of no concern for one such as myself, but when I cannot recall anything I did in those days, it leaves me curious. Perhaps someone would be so kind as to explain what I may have missed, if anything, in the last few weeks?

[In layman's terms: Dirt. Spill it. Now.]

[Gosh and golly, 773 Bunker Street sure looks different today! You can barely even see the house buried under the lush, wild forest that sprang up around it overnight. It's a Christmas miracle! It's the kind of thing Viktoria would love, in fact, it's exactly what she asked for!

So why is she on the other side of the street, huddled on the curb in her nightgown, covered in lacerations and bruises and rocking back and forth? It looks as if she barely escaped a brutal attack. That can't be good.]

[Viktoria's treemonster is chillin' in the yard outside of 773 Bunker Street, looking like a normal, incredibly ugly tree and occasionally growling at any drones that walk past. Little did it know of the terrible fate that awaited it. A terrible, glittery, festive fate...]

((Action post for agirlsname, but spectators are welcome to watch the hilarity that is bound to ensue!))

[Viktoria sounds like she's hovering near the phone, talking to herself.]

I've grown careless. How disappointing.

[There's a pause as she swallows her pride aaaand...]

I require some assistance with the telephone machine.

[Viki needs somebody to show her how to filter phone calls, because she's been here for months and still hasn't figured that out. :D Also, she died rather spectacularly at the Smith party. Feel free to bring it up if your characters happened to see it, but she might not want to talk about it in great detail.]

[Apparently, Mayfield doesn't care if you have a gaping hole in your head where your eye used to be, you still have to go to work. So, instead of being miserable and unhinged in her house, Viktoria is being miserable and unhinged at the flower shop.

Currently, she's pulling the carefully arranged bouquets apart, and using all the pretty, satin ribbons to hang flowers upside down by the stems all over the shop. She's also ignoring any drone customers that happen to stop by. If you're not droned, though, she might talk to you. Might.]

[You want songs, Soviet Mayfield? Viktoria has lots of songs.]

Builds your roofs of dead wood.

Builds your walls of dead stone.

Builds your dreams of dead thoughts.

Comes crying

Laughing

Singing back to life,

Takes what you steal,

And pulls the skins from your dead bones shrieking.

[She's a little angry about these recent developments. Juuust a little.]

( Narration: in which a nerve is touched )

[100% unfiltered because how do i shot web use telephone right]

Why was this information withheld for so long? For what purpose? Would sharing this poor woman's letter immediately not have benefited all who wish to escape this cage? What else is being hidden away, this very moment?

[She started rather calm, but her voice is slowly rising in volume.]

Are you all content to stumble around aimlessly, to roll over and do as you are told, to forget so easily? It has been weeks since the road to Westport vanished. What have we accomplished with what was found there? Nothing! How are we to do anything, as scattered as we are?

[As she utters the word "scattered" it almost sounds like there are several voices echoing under hers. She seems to have caught that, too, and sighs.]

We are only making it easier for this place to control us.