August Catchall

[distant_one]

Who: D Log catchall
What: Mostly awful things because August isn't much better than July
When: August
Where: Various places

Content Warnings:: To be added in comment titles

Comments

[Closed For Nico] CW: SUICIDE

[distant_one]

[D has had a few days to think about what happened in July now that his mind has cleared and he has arrived at perhaps not the best solution, but what he thinks is necessary. To prepare for it he has relocated the dimensionally expanded coffin to a new location where no one has visited him before and replaced the water in one of the fountains with sea water.

But there's no point in wasting what might be a potential opportunity either, and Nico was already high on D's list of people he could ask for this unusual favor.

Everything they need is here in the extradimensional garden and D has already stripped off his coat, scarf, and shirt. The only thing he still wears on his upper half is his pendant as he waits for Nico.]

[umbraportation]

[ While Nico is not thrilled by the unusual favor, he also didn't balk at it. Rebirth is very loudly the theme of this world, so the individual that forms from the squid that's left behind will once again be D. So he moves to join D in the garden from his room on the top floor. He isn't carrying his normal sword, though it's typically now at-hand should he need it. Meaning: if D doesn't die under conventional means of a normal sword.

Nico comes out to the garden and looks around briefly before focusing his gaze on the taller and older male. ]

Should I give a eulogy before you become a squid? [ Just some dry, morbid humor. ]

[distant_one]

Would it make you feel better if you did?

[D has prepared a very sharp wooden stake, and even brought along a hammer in case Nico feels it's necessary. It's a lot easier to stomach this if he views it as trying to go somewhere he might not be able to reach otherwise rather than simply dying. Easier to focus on what they might be able to do.]

When we die, if there's a body left a squid emerges from it, and if there's not we come from the sea. Physically our souls may not ever leave with this type of death, but on a metaphysical level, we might go somewhere during that time.

[Nico has a stronger connection to death than D, and some of the things he's done and said he can do offer interesting possibilities. Especially with the questions the 'ghost king' had asked when he arrived.]

If you can follow my soul and keep me aware while I'm dead, we might be able to see what's in that place between death and rebirth, and my soul coming back to be a squid should give you a path out as well.

[He also has a few jars around to collect samples of the crystals that should grow and the sleeper ink that should spill out when he's about to be a squid once more.]

[umbraportation]

Maybe a little. If I give one after, you won't hear it.

[ Don't let him do it, D, it will be the worst eulogy he's given. As for the weapon of choice, since D isn't going to be fighting it, just the stake should be good. Being a demigod does give him a strength boost. ]

Hopefully, your squid self pops up here, seeing as how the ocean isn't exactly friendly lately.

[ He considers the next part curiously and hums. ]

I don't know if I can keep you aware, but I should be able to track it at this point. Unless someone more powerful prevents me. And I could even try summoning you during the process to see if you keep your awareness.

[ Nico will collect everything carefully and keep it stored in his own bedroom until D's return. ]

[Closed for L] D's Nightmare cw: mind control

[distant_one]

[D has many unpleasant memories to fuel his dreams, but this one starts out tame in comparison to most.

The scenery is a bleak dusty road stretching on as far as even his spectacular eyesight can see. All along the barren dirt to either side are miles and miles of people. Just standing there, still breathing, their hearts still beating. Some have been there so long their clothes have begun to decay and they're caked with dirt whipped up by the cruel wind.

The wide stretch of lifeless badlands means that even though people dot the scenery like barren trees there's more than enough room for people to pass without ever going within thirty feet of one.

Even though it's clearly night, for D it might as well be midday. He rides a dark cyborg horse along at a calm pace, and beside him is a perfectly pale and dust-free white cyborg horse. The rider of the other horse seems to be D as well, they match to their clothing and even the blue-gemmed amulets on their neck. The Other D has a young woman riding behind him with the same vacant apathy on her face as all the people along the road.

The horse D's twin is riding stops, and unlike every time this happened before, his twin doesn't urge the cyborg to continue.]

That's a poor joke, even for you.

[But there's no response. D stares at his mirror image, his twin, and dismounts to walk over to them. There's no response from either of them as D carefully pulls them from the saddle to put them on the ground.]

He'll kill you, and then me.

[D remembers this, the assassin is coming for them. In the strange logic of a dream he both knows and doesn't know the fight that awaits him if he faces the blue-haired man alone. D reaches down with his left hand and pushes the little bit of life energy that his left hand has to spare into his twin.]

cw: deception

[hearthebell]

[August has only just begun, but L is already aware that something is not as it should be with his blood. Dreamwalking is usually easy for him, to the point where it's almost an escape from the trials and difficulties of a world that does not always understand or welcome him. Lately, it's been less like slipping on a silk glove and more like trying, with inconveniently uncalloused hands, to turn a rusted and pitted crank.

Once it's going, he can sustain it, but he's troubled by the new difficulty. It He's not finished with the old difficulties, after all, but this is the paradoxical predictability of Trench. A wrench is always in the works, even if the nature of the thing changes from time to time and can seldom be foreseen or prepared for even by those lucky enough to possess the gift of prophecy.

Once it's going, he's also noticed that the nature of the dreams leans darker and more frightening that the more balanced fare a dreamwalker can expect to encounter. In the months preceding August, he could count on chases and paralyzed hiding to give way occasionally to a gentle pasture or a moment of glee, a sparkling miniature firework in a child's outstretched hand. Whether because nightmares are more prevalent in Trench due to the beast moon, or because his wandering is weighted that direction, they seem to be all he's been finding since the end of July.

Nothing grows in this dark and desolate place. The dust his horse's hooves stir up tell him as much, though he's hardly a botanist or a farmer. If the people he notices are many, he wouldn't go so far as to call them a "crowd"; they'd have to be closer together to even court that definition. "Living effigies" is what he settles on, moving through and past them and taking slow moments to observe whether or not they change, whether they seem to notice him or perceive him as one of them, or hostile.

Faltering control over his dreamwalking abilities means faltering control as who he appears as, after all. He's honed that recently and come to appreciate the advantage it provides him with, more capable of slipping through the nighttime visions of others with control over how he perceived, but he'd started to take it for granted. He has to rely on other skills now, since the dream has doubtless chosen his appearance for him... as well as his companion and his pale steed. While he has no mirror, no eyes outside his own, he can tell that the man riding on a black, cybernetically enhanced horse at his side is dressed identically to him, has the same fall of hair that L notices alongside his own face and grazing his own shoulders, broader than they should be.

He glances back only briefly to the third set of hooves on their road, but the young woman doesn't seem to be here, the same way the Sleepers are. Like the others, she is a set piece, just scenery.

He chooses silence over answering, because he's learned, in trials by fire, that speaking too soon in a dream can raise suspicion. He has to learn a little more about their dynamic, first, and when he's pulled from his horse and finds his feet beneath him, he gets his first truly good look at the man whose dream he's entered.

D is unfamiliar to him; not for long, perhaps.]

We don't have any intention of dying, though. I'd call a conflict like that truly irreconcilable.

[Tell me more.]

[distant_one]

[D's relief almost shows on his face, that his twin wasn't weighed down by the added contagious apathy of his passenger. There's something unsettling and it takes D a moment to place. 'We'.

But they'd already passed that, in the future. It was one of those uncomfortable differences of something that had happened and not happened, or maybe just D's perspective being reflected in his twin. It still felt strange.

But D doesn't pay that any further attention. His twin is good at getting under his skin. D can't let him have the upper hand.]

No, but don't do that again.

[D isn't going to take any chances so he turns to pick up the young woman. Except it's not Mia with them like she should be, and he pauses. It's someone he knows from Trench. Gaia. She's wearing the scarf he gave her.]

Pretending she's dragging you down won't get you out of looking after her. If I can handle it, so can you unless you're going to concede that I'm better.

[D sounds more certain than he feels about that, that his twin can handle it. But D knows how to goad and get under his twin's skin too.]

[hearthebell]

Noted.

[He doesn't directly reference what "that" is. Keeping things vague when he doesn't have specifics is always the best option in situations like these; certainly safer, when even a small slip could give away that he's an imposter.

That tends to become apparent the more he says, especially when he's in the role of someone a dreamer has known for their whole life. Having not met Mia or Gaia, he can't even discern whether she's the right person.

Better to defer to what the dreamer perceives as normal or out-of-the-ordinary, always.]

Far be it from I to fail to rise to a challenge like that, whatever else is dragging me down.

[Closed for Usagi]

[distant_one]

When July ended D was faced with a number of surprising realizations about just how much he had been under the influence of something else. The urge for violence had been easy to identify and D had done quite well resisting that one, as well as the sea's influence.

But the feelings he'd had for people? D owed several people apologies for his behavior. Usagi had been a near stranger and D had avoided her, but he knew his omen hadn't shared his self control even if it had shared his preoccupation. His omen was part of him after all even if they weren't quite the same.

Which was why D felt the need to apologize to the young woman. The crow omen in question was on D's shoulder when he approached her, pointedly ignoring D and everyone else.

[lightthedarkness]

Usagi looked up from her grocery tote and blinked. She didn't expect to see D considering their last (and only) conversation was him stopping a corrupted man from hurting her and that had been it. She hadn't realized he was spying on her, oh, sure, she saw the crow often enough and even smiled at it, often, reminded of Rei's crow guardians. She hadn't thought anything of it and she certainly didn't realize it was an omen or even the same crow every time.

But now, D was here, with the crow, or a crow, again, there were a lot of crows in Trench.

But there he was, just standing in front of her and she pressed her lips together, looking around and then back at him since he wasn't moving around her and he definitely wasn't letting her pass.

"Uuuuh D, right? Can I help you?" She was preeeeetty sure this was Luke's snuggle buddy so maybe he was here about that? She hoped she wasn't about to get a "back off" speech cause oooh boy was she not in the mood for one of those.

[distant_one]

The only mark that really distinguished D's crow was the scar along its back, something D was still contemplating the significance of beyond perhaps the obvious. That was where he and his twin had been cut apart after all.

"I came to apologize for avoiding you and for my omen following you. I'm sorry." D gave the crow a look, but his omen apparently thought that D's apology was sufficient and it's even less chatty than he was.

He wasn't even certain Usagi had noticed D was fleeing at first sign of her given that D could detect her from a considerable distance. Perhaps it would have been better to explain he'd been under the effects of last month's influences but that felt too much like a false apology.

[Closed for Duty]

[distant_one]

After recognizing how much he'd been under outside influence, D has stopped pushing himself nearly as much with how little sleep he gets. There are still days when he is at the staging point in the evening, but most he's upstairs asleep in one of the storage rooms with his omen down at the main area to handle questions.

Today is one of the days D is downstairs, reviewing supply inventory and planning for the next stage of construction once the outer wall is finished. Between Manabu and Duty the day operations and supplies and constructions have been running well without requiring D's direct involvement. That frees up more time for things D feels the need to see to personally.

[martyrofduty]

It's been a handful of deaths of late, not all directly connected but close enough it would be lying to say they are all... independent activities. Duty's old enough to be familiar with complicated relationships. Trench is still different than what has come before, and in Trench—

They've not talked about it enough.

D isn't difficult to find, though a small part of Duty's mind cannot help but note that it is a poor choice for a duel if he were so inclined. He isn't. Duty enters quietly but not silently and waits until D's attention shifts to talk. "How are you doing?" he asks calmly, slowly, seriously, far beyond the casual use of those words.

[distant_one]

D shows none of the weariness that particular question causes him. He's doing the same as he always is, especially when he isn't. But D respects Duty and his dedication and work. "I could do without the weather, but with Mariana's month it was never going to be sunny and clear."

Daytime rain is the worst for him. It brings full vampires some relief from the effects of the day but for a Dhampir already very resistant to it's only an added problem.

The rest of his issues are far more personal and aren't his alone.

"She really does have a direct hand in our reincarnation."

[Closed for Snow White]

[distant_one]

Everything with the nightmare herd at the outpost had gone well enough so far. The tabards they wore were getting a bit dirty and torn but still easily distinguished the monstrous horses as allies, and the extra time to fight and eat dead things had done wonders for how well Jarem was behaving.

D waited for Snow White at the lamp point nearest to Sleepy Town. He had brought along a small basket of things he hoped might be useful for this task, as well as a thank you gift for Snow herself. He had perhaps been less than clear about why he wanted her help to talk with some deer around Sleepy Town but she was a kind woman and D was confident she would help once he had everything explained.

[onebadapple]

Having a cast on her wrist made for an interesting experience for Snow White in that it made her actually have to ask for help much more frequently. Her arm would often tire quickly or she literally couldn't do certain things at all. Half her baking and cooking alone required more assistance because her lift wrist and arm were out of commission. Thankfully, something as simple as a walk through the forest was not difficult for her, made even less so since Faramund insisted he carry her everywhere and anywhere, refusing to allow another incident like in July.

She waved to D with her good hand and smiled brightly, as always, her animal friends were in attendance, though at the sight of D, many of them paused before pushing through for Snow White's sake.

"Why hello D, are you having a very good day today?"

[distant_one]

D eyes Snow's mount for just a brief second, but he's ultimately unimportant to D. He and her entourage are simply a sign of her nature, which D still hasn't quite decided upon.

"I am. Thank you for coming Snow White."

There's no real reason to ask her to send the animals away when animals are he very reason they're out here. D pulls out a small notebook where he's copied down the information he found about the beast called 'Deerlona' and his notes on which questions he wishes to ask, but he also pulls out a small jar with dried blueberries in it.

"I can heal your arm for you if you wish."

[Closed for Maria]

[distant_one]

[It has been long enough since the full moon that most Sleepers have settled in. Those who weren't able to adjust to their bodies have already gone, and those who remain should be functionally acquainted with the way Trench works.

D doesn't usually follow up with any of the new arrivals, but he has a real need for additional manpower. This is why he has tracked Maria down. Curiously there's another new arrival living in the same place, but D is here for her.

When he has tracked her down with the help of his omen and his sense of smell he knocks on the door politely.]

[givetheslip]

[Maria is learning her way around Trench in more ways than one. Even after days of adjustment, her mind swirls if she lets it, thoughts of shock and disbelief and curiosity and a hundred other things chasing one another through her mind. It's still tempting to believe herself mad, but she knows herself and she knows that she is sane. So she will simply have to adapt. At least she has a friend here, as unbelievable as counting an Assassin as one would have seemed just weeks ago.

But right now she's alone, preparing to take another careful walk through the neighborhood they've settled into for now. Altaïr is wary of settling down too easily and Maria can't fault him for that. They'll likely move on soon but for now, she's making a point of familiarizing herself with this part of Trench — only for an unexpected knock to interrupt that. Surprise and then recognition shows on her face when she opens the door.]

Oh, it's you.

[This is a reasonably polite greeting from Maria Thorpe.]

[distant_one]

[D keeps an eye on which homes are abandoned and what condition they're in and has several he's scouted out for his own use. This isn't one of them, it doesn't quite meet what he needs currently.]

Yes, I have an offer for you, if you're interested.

[She doesn't seem like the kind who would appreciate polite beating around the bush any more than D would. There's no attempt to glance behind her or otherwise get a look inside, D isn't at all interested.]

[closed] cw: self harm, blood drinking

[distant_one]

Last month had been a relief from the blood thirst that plagued D during his arrival and on and off in June, but it was starting to return. At first D had simply wanted to have people around. Trying to convince Sharon to spend more time at the coffin or other people to join efforts at the outpost had satisfied that urge, but soon it progressed and now D found himself craving blood.

Eating even several times his usual number of blood capsules offered no real relief, and D longed to sink his fangs into a warm throat and feel a pulse bleeding into his mouth. This wasn't like the hunger he'd had to deal with on waking here, it was something else.

D tried to go about his business in trench but sometimes it was too much. Particularly when the weather changed suddenly to lightning and rain and the air filled with the scent of fear as people fled for higher ground before the tempting aroma was washed away.

Which was why he found himself fleeing to a dark alleyway, his eyes barely opened but still shining with blood light. D's fingernails had broken his skin, and he brought his hand to his mouth to lick away the few drops. As much as that taste was a slight relief it also made him crave more and D was painfully aware of every beating heart within a block of him amid the sound of raindrops.

The pain was too intense, and a moment later D had rolled up his left sleeve and sunk his teeth into his own arm. It wasn't true relief, but it made the maddening hunger more tolerable. After a few seconds D pulled back, his fangs still extended and his face that of the Vampire rather than the Dhampir he usually was.

[martyrofduty]

Out of preference, Duty frequently hunts with a partner, the individual changing based off availability and inclination. Tonight, he's alone; he keeps an eye out not only for beasts but the cursed, as the locals call it. He's sure of someone running down the alley and quickly. Inhumanly? Not condemning in and of itself but worth a look.

His spear, currently resembling a sharp baton of metal and bone, rests in his off hand, and his right rests on a pistol loaded with bullets of his own blood. Duty walks softly and deliberately down the alleyway. The hat and coat are recognizable, and Duty's seen that face through other eyes.

"Hey, D," Duty greets him calmly.

[distant_one]

"Duty."

His voice is different slightly, subtle enough that human ears would be hard pressed to say what exactly it is. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, careful to avoid scraping his own skin with his teeth and takes a moment to roll his shirt and coat sleeve back down.

Duty at least is relatively safe. His appearance doesn't suit D's preferences and coldbloods are unappetizing both in scent and taste. Even if D lost himself he might be more tempted to bite himself again or run past Duty to seek other prey.

The alleyway is lit up with the lurid red shining from D's eyes. It'll be a few moments before he can force that half back especially when most of his focus is on keeping himself in check.

[acidjail]

After their last humiliating encounter, Woe considers giving the creature with the face of a beautiful boy a wide berth. It would be sensible, and spare her the pangs of embarrassment at recalling being scolded like some errant schoolchild who had fumbled with her first ventricular folding.

But shame is an emotion that has little hold on her, however keenly she feels it. Interest will always win out over it. That, and the chance to see what makes the indomitable 'vampire' scurry into the shadows to suckle at his own arm like a desperate fiend.

"Autocannibalism is an interesting habit," she pipes up, sidling into the alleyway after him without a trace of care. She's wearing her walking cloak again, and overall, she is in better health, and closer attunement to herself. She takes the precaution of thickening the buffers around her brain anyway, just in case.

"Is it new?"

[distant_one]

When D swallows his own blood, he shifts from Dhampir to Vampire. His body temperature drops, his metabolic processes- already only going through the motions of acting as a living being that uses food for fuel- shift. The most obvious changes are his elongated canines visible even when his mouth is closed, his bright red lips, and the red glowing eyes.

He was too focused on tuning out temptation to notice his previous captor approaching.

"It's better than the alternatives." D's voice is slightly different as well, and unlike his previous emotionless tone D sounds like he's in pain.