deercountry | ( open ) i've gotta get away from here

[ Ford takes a step back, falls, and awakens to find himself in a bizarre space. So, pretty standard for Trench! He's sure it'll be dangerous later, because it always is. For now, though, he climbs to his feet, looks around, and says only one thing: ]

Fascinating!

[ Today's going to be exciting! Probably. The surroundings are... kind of bland, in a way that the body farm and the Moss King's catacombs weren't. A sort of banality that's already kind of getting under his skin, actually. Still, there's no sense in worrying about not being entertained. Ford looks around expectantly, then lights up he he spots another person. Unconcerned, he trots over to them. ]

Hello there! Did you just fall in here as well?

Ugh... yes. My head...

[Vira-Lorr stood to her feet with a grunt, looking around at the surroundings, wrinkling her nose at the faint odor everything seemed to have and frowning. She was much less pleased with the situation, though it was good not to be here alone, and Ford was a good person to have around at a time like this.

But why was everything so... same?]

Where are we? I...

[Her third eye squinted and she frowned.]

I can't see the future in this place.

[She sounded disturbed by that revelation, like something was very much not right about any of this.]

(OOC: I'm going to go with 'between time and space' here. She can't see the future because there is no future to see until they're outside of the liminal space. It's deeply disorienting for her.)

[ Vira-Lorr is a pretty distinctive person, at least, so Ford suspects it's her even before he gets a proper look. Having it confirmed that it is her is reassuring, but the very next thing she says loops back around into being concerning. ]

You can't?

[ That's highly unusual, though not impossible. Just to be sure he reaches into his pocket and withdraws the four-handed compass. A quick check reveals that all four hands, even the one that should be pointing to him, are drifting back and forth aimlessly. ]

... Well, wherever we are is well-outside Trench's boundaries. Not even this is working properly, and it was a gift from Julia.

No, not at the moment. It's like... staring through a massive amount of fog or static. It's... strange.

[She took a strip of fabric from her waist, allowing her clothes to flow a little more freely and wrapped it around her forehead, sighing afterwards. Better. Much better. It wasn't like back home. There was something wrong about this... wait, what did he say?]

Outside? No, that would make sense then. We're in some place that is still tied to the world Julia created, but is not part of it directly. It's probably some unfinished portion of that world. I doubt she ever quite completed everything. It makes sense I can't see. Things aren't 'proper' here, so time probably isn't either.

[ Ford personally still likes his 'outside' metaphor, but he understands Vira-Lorr's point. 'Outside' is too imprecise, and implies a greater degree of separation than probably exists. Something like 'between', 'behind', or 'below' is probably more accurate.

But much as he would actually, sincerely enjoy arguing the semantics, now isn't really the time. He returns the compass to his pocket and withdraws his journal from a different pocket. Time to get to note taking. ]

It certainly feels unfinished. I don't recall Julia making anything quite this empty, save for the cars in December.

[ Her creations tended to be elaborate and imaginative - unless they were reminiscent of medical laboratories or hospitals, a detail he knows he doesn't need to bring up. ]

Though if it is her design, there should at least be a way out.

[Any number of possibilities existed. She was glad that he was taking notes. Frowning, though, at the comment about Julia, she considered the place again, squinting and thinking about it.]

You're right. This is like nothing julia ever created. I... know that she's not here in the same sense, but I'm so used to it being a thing that she might have imagined, but these are just empty hallways.

...why does it feel familiar? [Swallow. Something was not right about all of this. It wasn't making sense.] You're right. There has to be a way out. Do we try the maze trick? Always turn to the left until we find a way out?

[ Vira-Lorr says familiar and Ford hums thoughtfully. He gets that feeling too, and after a moment: ]

Do you remember the hotel in Deerington? Sometimes the hallways would stretch on and on for miles.

[ The question is almost entirely rhetorical. Not only is he certain Vira-Lorr experienced it at least once during her long tenure in Deerington, he also doesn't think that quite matches what they're seeing here, either. Even when the hotel halls were repetitive and spooky there was still more to them than this.

And they weren't quite this off-putting, either, and didn't quite have this much teeth-grinding buzzing in the air. Ford frowns a little, then withdraws a marker from his coat and uses it to mark and arrow on the wall they just passed. There, that makes him feel a little better. ]

The hotel...

[The look on her face said that yes, yes she remembered that place. her recollections weren't always bad about that place, but there'd always been a deeply unpleasant air to it, like something was intensely, innately wrong about it on its core level. This wasn't the same, but ....]

Those may help, they may not. Difficult to say if the walls will morph when we aren't looking, but it's worth the effort.

I think you're right. The similarity is that the space here is not defined by normal rules of space is it?

That and there was always a stale feel to its air.

( There's an ungraceful scream when Ford falls through, and a young man scrambling tighter against the wall he's already sitting with his back to, legs kicking for a moment to try and distance himself from whatever's just spawned into this Hell along with him.

—Until he realises it's a guy, and not only a guy, but one he knows a little. Peter's looking wide-eyed and terrified from his position down on the floor, where he's absolutely been sitting with his knees pressed to his chest, ever since he fell into this... place. )

Holy shit! ( He barks, helpfully, casting those saucer-wide eyes up at Ford as the man moves to stand and addresses him. Right above them, a nauseatingly-yellow fluorescent light buzzes loudly and flickers. )

I-I've been here like fifteen minutes, m-maybe. ( Peter stammers, but there's a pinch of relief through his horror of the whole thing. He's not alone. )

Do you know w-what the hell this is?

[ Oh, it's this guy again! Peter, the kid with the demon. Ford's first instinct is to ask him how that's going, but even he can see that Peter is really not handling their transition to the maze of damp and buzzing yellow corridors. That's bad news. He's still lucid enough to ask questions, though. That's. good news! Unfortunately... ]

I have no idea. Something to do with Never Mind, perhaps?

[ He sounds doubtful even as he says it. September is just around the corner, but a weird maze isn't really Never Mind's style. He thinks more of the Moss King and his catacombs, or the Sleeper Farm inside the Tower. ]

In any case, I doubt we'll find a way out just sitting here. Can you stand?

( In his state, it takes Peter a few moments too long to process the words, but then realisation creeps in, and he's leaning forwards a bit, slipping a shaky hand up to his face and giving a soft groan. )

That creepy bird guy? Great....

( Never Mind wigs him out! As so.... most of the Pthumerians. Clearly, Peter has not assimilated to this place very well despite being here for exactly a year. )

Yeah, I— I think so. ( He's wobbly on his feet, but does manage to get to them, giving another little groan as his body protests, lean form tipping to lean against the wall for support. He's weak and prone to complaints.... Sorry you got stuck with him through this, Ford. )

God, I hope this isn't like that... meat factory place all over again.

( He dealt with The Tower last year, too. )

Edited 2022-09-14 02:59 (UTC)

[ See? He knew he got a good impression of Peter for a reason. Never Mind may not be openly hostile, but 'creepy bird guy' is an extremely appropriate description for him all the same.

But Ford's ready to put all of that aside in favor of helping the two of them get out of here. Peter seems a little bit... flimsy, for lack of a better word, so Ford gives him all the time he needs to right himself.

The comment about the Sleeper Farm isn't exactly a surprise, but it does somewhat shake Ford's certainty that this is a situation they can extract themselves from without anyone panicking. ]

Ah, well... the Tower is associated with Architects and strange locales, but the factory was also a part of his body. So perhaps we're not dealing with the same thing here.

[ Considering there's much less blood and viscera and much more nothing in particular. ]

I hope so... That place was.... ( Peter's giving an involuntary, violent shudder before he can finish getting the words out. Among all the horrors of this place, the Sleeper Farm was a special breed of its own, one that's earned its own category of nightmares that he still finds himself in the throes of, even nearly a year later. Waking up covered in sweat and panting hard, fingers ensnared into the sheets beneath himself — trying desperately to remember that the blood and screams and clang of machinery aren't real anymore.

But it's a danger he's not so sure has actually passed. Who's to say it won't happen again this year? Those... things that were kidnapping people, harvesting their organs... they could come back. And he has a connection to the Tower, after all— )

It's my Patron... thing. The Tower. ( Peter manages to extract himself off the wall to stand up closer to Ford, looking nervously around the strange space they're in. ) When I was inside him, I could like.. feel that it was him. I don't feel anything like that now, so... maybe you're right. This could be another Patron. Never Mind, like you said, or someone else.

...Do you feel anything? ( He has to wonder, looking over at the older man. On the off-chance that whatever Patron's responsible for this could be Ford's, which would be a stroke of good luck that feels almost impossible to wish for. )

[ Peter doesn't finish his thought, but Ford nods in agreement all the same. An involuntary, violent shudder is a perfectly apt description all on its own. Ford's nightmares don't often drift towards the Farm, but his stray thoughts do.

Hearing that Peter is one of the Tower's Sleepers is helpful information, though, especially since it reminds Ford that some people had been able to tell where they were right away. But it sounds like that's not the case for Peter this time, and unfortunately... ]

Remina is my Patron. She tends to show up when she feels like it, and... well, we don't interact much.

[ A floating one-eyed and mostly-eye eldritch creature invading his dreams and occasionally bestowing him with knowledge hits a little too close to home. He has something else they might be able to rely on, however. He dips a hand into one of his pockets and withdraws and flips open the lid of a brass compass. If Peter looks quickly and closely enough he'll be able to catch that the arms, of which there are four, are labeled Stanford, Stanley, Mabel, and Mason. They don't point at anything in particular, however, just spin in a way that's equal parts aimless and useless. After a moment he clicks it shut again. ]

I don't think we'll be receiving much help regardless. That compass was made by Julia, and it's not often something can make it malfunction.

Remina.... that's the big eyeball one, right? ( Despite being largely uninvolved and purposefully keeping his head buried in the sand for as much about this place as he possibly can, Peter has retained more information than he might let on. Some things stick. ....And maybe some of it is Paimon, who absorbs details like a sponge and collects them way down deep in the dust-coated archives of himself. Sometimes random facts, knowledge, seep through to Peter.

He's looking around before the man's movement draws his attention, and Peter's looking down at the compass he pulls out. He does manage to catch sight of the odd face to it, the fact there are names — or what he thinks are names, in his quick glance. It's enough to have him doing a bit of a doubletake, brows lifting. That's... familiar. He fumbles against himself for a moment, patting down his pockets until he feels the little swell of something round, and slips out a golden pocketwatch. With a click, the surface changes from a normal clock to something very similar to what Ford's compass displays.

There's less names on it these days, but clearly, it's meant to point to specific people, too. Peter holds it up to show Ford — and subsequently, realises that the arms of the clock are zooming around the same way. )

I've got something like that, too. Not from Julia; another Sleeper gave it to me. ( Another pause as the implication seeps in, and with it, a fresh wave of discomfort. )

...We must be somewhere really freaky. Like... really freaky.

That's right. A patron of knowledge, like Never Mind. More direct than he tends to be, but only on her own terms.

[ He probably should get to know her better one of these days. The Memory Box is something he's found to be quite useful, and the thought of eventually being able to show Stan is...

Ford shakes his head, forcing the thoughts away - and fortunately he has a perfect distraction in the form of Peter's own compass. Ford has seen several such devices before, but never one that wasn't either his or a replica he made himself. So he absolutely lights up at the sight of Peter's, and just barely manages to stop himself from reaching out and taking it. He makes a mental note to grill Peter for details about how it works an how he got it later. Right now, even Ford realizes they have something more important to worry about. ]

Freaky indeed - but the only way out is deeper in.

[ He knows this not because he's ever been here, but because that's always how these things go in Trench. ]

Come on, and keep an eye out. This place looks rather repetitive, so any change in our surroundings is bound to be important.

( He's right — there's the pressing concern here of how to get the hell out of here, and Peter's not exactly trying to stall, but he's certainly not.. eager to take on this task. Experience shows that going deeper in always has some bad consequence. Whether it's literal monsters to be found lurking around corners, or forced dives into another person's memories, or ghosts from the past making an appearance...

He swallows, casting another look around, before slowly slipping the watch back into the depths of his pocket. )

You don't happen to have any breadcrumbs we can leave behind us as we walk, do you?

( Said with a nervous laugh as he begins to follow along with Ford. Hopefully, unlike poor Hansel and Gretel, they won't make their way to a hungry witch's abode. ...Though it's probably something much worse. )

[ Jon Sims looks, as always, a bit worse for wear. He picks himself up with the air of a man freezing before a predator, and when he looks around at the space, there is pure uneasy dread in his eyes. They've gone unfocused, like he's not quite seeing what's in front of him.

It's so familiar, in a way. ]

I... yes. Yes. Do you know where we are?

[ He says it as though he very much expects a no. ]

[ Someone more socially apt than Ford might pick up on the state Jon is in, but as Far as Ford is concerned this is simply always how Jon looks. Nothing to worry about here! ]

I have no idea.

[ His tone is one of cheer, if slightly distracted cheer. ]

But this isn't the first time we've been inexplicably whisked away, and this place seems...

[ ... how to put this... ]

... less drastic than the last several.

Yes... I suppose so.

[ He does not look like he supposes so! Jon looks unsettled and wound tight, which, to be fair, is altogether standard. He'd forgotten how it felt, to be in halls like these— a place so fundamentally unfriendly to human perception as this— even if this one doesn't wear a smile over its teeth. ]

How drastic were those, exactly?

( open ) i've gotta get away from here

( open starters )

( tdm ) veins of the tower

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( closed starters )