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deercountry2022-10-08 11:56 am
reddosmod) wrote in deercountry2022-10-08 11:56 am
Entry tags:
- *event,
- abigail williams: alex,
- ahiru: timmy,
- ange ushiromiya: jelle,
- ariadne: wizera,
- chizuru yukimura: jelle,
- daniel larusso: jelle,
- darth maul: shade,
- fakir: orlando,
- hotaru tomoe: xae,
- jin guangyao: ray,
- jinx: bekka,
- jun ushiro: matt,
- keith: sailor g,
- lance: charley,
- luca: robin,
- luna lovegood: cheryl,
- luz noceda: pedro,
- maria thorpe: jaina,
- mike enslin: aeri,
- minako aino: fay,
- nico di angelo: xae,
- peter graham: jhey,
- scorpia: gore,
- shen yuan: drake,
- snow white: jax,
- usagi tsukino: jax,
- vi: aeri
long ago forgotten bones
OCTOBER 2022 EVENT
SECOND DEATH
UNMASKED
LOST IN THE WOODS
CODING
Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, PROMPTS FROM LAST OCTOBER are available to be used this year as well! Please note you are using prompts from the previous event in your starters so that people are aware.
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: A creature forcibly consuming the soul of another person. ]
[Image Two: A red moon. ]
Prompt Two
[Image One: A fox max on a pile of books. ]
[Image Two: A person with sharp fins protruding from their back. ]
Prompt Three
[Image One: A broken clock. ]
[Image Two: An entrance to a rose maze. ]
Prompt One
[Image One: A creature forcibly consuming the soul of another person. ]
[Image Two: A red moon. ]
Prompt Two
[Image One: A fox max on a pile of books. ]
[Image Two: A person with sharp fins protruding from their back. ]
Prompt Three
[Image One: A broken clock. ]
[Image Two: An entrance to a rose maze. ]
WHEN: October
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Memory loss, decaying creature, undead themes, possible death via being eaten.
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Memory loss, decaying creature, undead themes, possible death via being eaten.
There's something strange going on. Anyone who goes to visit the cemetery will find that there are holes dug throughout that weren't there before. Fresh graves, maybe? It seems like an awful lot and some of them are in front of graves that already existed. The coffins, if they're visible, still look closed, though. That's got to be a relief, right? Maybe there's just some kind of strange maintenance going on or a new ritual for the Black Parade this year. It wouldn't be the first time Trenchies did something strange like that.
Then Sleepers start to feel...off. It starts off with just being a little forgetful. Sleepers will find that maybe they have trouble recalling an important date or remembering to return a book they borrowed from a friend. Then it starts to be small moments in time or faces of people they knew once upon a time. The memories they lose become bigger, more important, and harder to ignore as time goes on. There's an agitation that comes with the loss, a sense that something isn't right, that they're not just losing memories, but full pieces of themselves. Our memories are what make us who we are, after all.
There are whispers through town of what might be responsible. A draugr the Trenchies will say when asked. It's spoken with fearful, hushed tones, like speaking the name could bring one into existence right there. These creatures can roam about unnoticed, sometimes even invisible, but they don't stay that way forever. The more a person forgets, the more visible the draugr becomes. They're feeding on those memories, absorbing them and creating a new life for themselves, stealing the history of the person they've targeted. The more visible they become, the more one might wish they'd stayed invisible: these creatures are unpleasant to look at, with dark black skin that's rotting off of bone. Muscle and tendons are visible against the skeleton, every bit a literal walking corpse. And they smell awful, reeking of decay, the odor becoming more prominent the more visible they become as well. It's enough to make someone sick.
The draugr has superhuman strength and is difficult to kill. It's intent is to eat away at all of a person's memories, weakening them, until they've finally forgotten so much that they may as well be in a coma. It's then that the draugr will begin to consume their target in full. Quite literally. They'll eat whoever they've latched on to, and as they devour the living person, their own body will begin to heal. It will bring them back to life and allow them a second chance at the world they feel was stolen from them.
Their souls are that of a human, but it doesn't seem like they're suffering from beasthood. There's no time to really figure it out, either. In order to save someone from the draugr (or save themselves), the draugr must be completely destroyed. It would be easier said than done if they weren't so strong and skilled at fighting. Chopping off the head and limbs is the easiest way to immobilize them, but they're quick, and it may be easiest to do so in a group fight. After the body has been dismembered, it has to be burned, and the fire must keep going until the draugr has been completely reduced to ash. Once this has been done, the person who was losing their memories must ingest a small amount of the ash. After that, their memories will be returned to them.
Information on how to kill the draugr and restore memories can be found in the Archives or told to a Sleeper by one of the locals. Apparently, this isn't the first time the draugr have plagued the city, and the Trenchies clearly don't think it will be the last.
Then Sleepers start to feel...off. It starts off with just being a little forgetful. Sleepers will find that maybe they have trouble recalling an important date or remembering to return a book they borrowed from a friend. Then it starts to be small moments in time or faces of people they knew once upon a time. The memories they lose become bigger, more important, and harder to ignore as time goes on. There's an agitation that comes with the loss, a sense that something isn't right, that they're not just losing memories, but full pieces of themselves. Our memories are what make us who we are, after all.
There are whispers through town of what might be responsible. A draugr the Trenchies will say when asked. It's spoken with fearful, hushed tones, like speaking the name could bring one into existence right there. These creatures can roam about unnoticed, sometimes even invisible, but they don't stay that way forever. The more a person forgets, the more visible the draugr becomes. They're feeding on those memories, absorbing them and creating a new life for themselves, stealing the history of the person they've targeted. The more visible they become, the more one might wish they'd stayed invisible: these creatures are unpleasant to look at, with dark black skin that's rotting off of bone. Muscle and tendons are visible against the skeleton, every bit a literal walking corpse. And they smell awful, reeking of decay, the odor becoming more prominent the more visible they become as well. It's enough to make someone sick.
The draugr has superhuman strength and is difficult to kill. It's intent is to eat away at all of a person's memories, weakening them, until they've finally forgotten so much that they may as well be in a coma. It's then that the draugr will begin to consume their target in full. Quite literally. They'll eat whoever they've latched on to, and as they devour the living person, their own body will begin to heal. It will bring them back to life and allow them a second chance at the world they feel was stolen from them.
Their souls are that of a human, but it doesn't seem like they're suffering from beasthood. There's no time to really figure it out, either. In order to save someone from the draugr (or save themselves), the draugr must be completely destroyed. It would be easier said than done if they weren't so strong and skilled at fighting. Chopping off the head and limbs is the easiest way to immobilize them, but they're quick, and it may be easiest to do so in a group fight. After the body has been dismembered, it has to be burned, and the fire must keep going until the draugr has been completely reduced to ash. Once this has been done, the person who was losing their memories must ingest a small amount of the ash. After that, their memories will be returned to them.
Information on how to kill the draugr and restore memories can be found in the Archives or told to a Sleeper by one of the locals. Apparently, this isn't the first time the draugr have plagued the city, and the Trenchies clearly don't think it will be the last.
WHEN: During the Black Parade
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Potential body horror, mind control, violence, blood ingestion.
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Potential body horror, mind control, violence, blood ingestion.
Masks and face paint are meant to keep people safe, and most of the time, they absolutely will! The Black Parade is such a boisterous celebration, of course people will want to get involved again. Masking up didn't do anything last year, after all. And the parade was mostly a fun time, save for the usual weird happenings that come with being in Trench in the first place.
The masks are fun and who doesn't love face painting? For the most part, it's the same as last year: completely harmless. It's easy to want to play along. But this year, a few unlucky people might find that the masks they're wearing is a little too comfortable. It's almost like a second skin, even.
A minor Pthumerian has cursed random masks and face paints, turning the wearer into whatever design they may have donned. This can be small aesthetic changes, such gaining fox ears and a tail, or it can be something that completely warps the body, breaking bones, altering flesh, and slicing people open to make room for fins or extra limbs they were never meant to have. Once a person has started to merge with the mask, it's impossible to remove.
There are two ways to break the curse. One is to just wait it out. Maybe it's inconvenient, or maybe it's downright agonizing, but the curse only lasts for 72 hours before the wearers body will return to normal. If waiting isn't something they fancy, though, there is one way to lift the curse early: drinking virgin blood. It can't just be a single drop. A standard cup is required to get the curse to lift. Virgin blood is hard to come by, but luckily for everyone, there are fresh arrivals almost every month, and not everyone who's come in over the past year has given in to blood rituals, right?
Time to get hunting.
As a note: if your character has virgin blood, drinking their own will not work. Trench would never let anyone off that easy.
The masks are fun and who doesn't love face painting? For the most part, it's the same as last year: completely harmless. It's easy to want to play along. But this year, a few unlucky people might find that the masks they're wearing is a little too comfortable. It's almost like a second skin, even.
A minor Pthumerian has cursed random masks and face paints, turning the wearer into whatever design they may have donned. This can be small aesthetic changes, such gaining fox ears and a tail, or it can be something that completely warps the body, breaking bones, altering flesh, and slicing people open to make room for fins or extra limbs they were never meant to have. Once a person has started to merge with the mask, it's impossible to remove.
There are two ways to break the curse. One is to just wait it out. Maybe it's inconvenient, or maybe it's downright agonizing, but the curse only lasts for 72 hours before the wearers body will return to normal. If waiting isn't something they fancy, though, there is one way to lift the curse early: drinking virgin blood. It can't just be a single drop. A standard cup is required to get the curse to lift. Virgin blood is hard to come by, but luckily for everyone, there are fresh arrivals almost every month, and not everyone who's come in over the past year has given in to blood rituals, right?
Time to get hunting.
As a note: if your character has virgin blood, drinking their own will not work. Trench would never let anyone off that easy.
WHEN: October
WHERE: Possibly Trenchwood
CONTENT WARNINGS: The feeling of being stalked, panic, paranoia
WHERE: Possibly Trenchwood
CONTENT WARNINGS: The feeling of being stalked, panic, paranoia
Waking up in the middle of the woods is probably never a good thing. On the plus side, there don't seem to be any beasts in the immediate area. If anything, the woods seem rather... calm. Sleepers will notice when they wake up that there is a piece of a broken object, though it's hard to tell quite what it would be used for. A clock, maybe, if the numbers had all been wiped off. Or possibly a compass, though it still doesn't quite look like most compasses that are available in Trench. This object can be found in their hand, on the ground near by, or even stuck in one of their pockets.
When the Sleeper decides to start moving, the broken piece will start to glow. It will be a dim glow at first, but it grows brighter as they start to move through the thick trees. It seems to be guiding them down some sort of path, growing brighter when they are going in the right direction, and dimmer the moment they take a step the wrong way. If Sleepers decide to ignore the directions of the object, they will find that they get horrifically lost in the woods, and that feeling of calm will quickly start to disappear. There will be a feeling of being stalked, as though something is hunting them, but the woods are too thick to figure out which direction an attack might come from.
Following the directions doesn't lead Sleepers towards an exit, though: it's leading them to the other pieces of the object. These objects can be broken into two, three, or even four pieces, and they will each glow brighter the closer that the Sleeper gets to becoming whole. The other pieces will be held by other Sleepers. When they find one another, the pieces will be blindingly bright, and once they are held up close to one another, they will bind together seamlessly and make the object whole once again.
It's clear now that it is a compass, with a dragon's head that spins to tell the Sleepers where to go. The blue gem in the center glows brightly at first, but begins to fade the longer the compass is used. Following the directions from the newly formed compass will quickly guide the Sleepers out of the woods together without meeting any dangers along the way. As soon as the Sleepers have stepped out of the woods, the blue gem will have gone out entirely. The compass can recharge, but it takes several days of rest before it can be used again.
These compasses will protect the group no matter where they go. They can think of a destination in order to be guided by the compass and it will be able to get them there on the fastest route possible. If they were to think abstractly, such as "I want to go somewhere new", it will be able to guide them to a new location that they've never been to before that it feels the person (or persons) may enjoy. Sleepers will have to decide who in the group gets to keep the compass. They can end up lost more than once which gives them more chances to get a compass of their own. Otherwise, the compasses can be shared, and groups who travel together will be kept just as safe as the person carrying the compass itself.
Currently the charge on the compass only lasts for a few miles, but it seems like the more it's used, the farther a person can go. Eventually it will be possible for the Sleepers to use these compasses to safely travel outside of the city limits, but it might take a few months before that becomes doable.
When the Sleeper decides to start moving, the broken piece will start to glow. It will be a dim glow at first, but it grows brighter as they start to move through the thick trees. It seems to be guiding them down some sort of path, growing brighter when they are going in the right direction, and dimmer the moment they take a step the wrong way. If Sleepers decide to ignore the directions of the object, they will find that they get horrifically lost in the woods, and that feeling of calm will quickly start to disappear. There will be a feeling of being stalked, as though something is hunting them, but the woods are too thick to figure out which direction an attack might come from.
Following the directions doesn't lead Sleepers towards an exit, though: it's leading them to the other pieces of the object. These objects can be broken into two, three, or even four pieces, and they will each glow brighter the closer that the Sleeper gets to becoming whole. The other pieces will be held by other Sleepers. When they find one another, the pieces will be blindingly bright, and once they are held up close to one another, they will bind together seamlessly and make the object whole once again.
It's clear now that it is a compass, with a dragon's head that spins to tell the Sleepers where to go. The blue gem in the center glows brightly at first, but begins to fade the longer the compass is used. Following the directions from the newly formed compass will quickly guide the Sleepers out of the woods together without meeting any dangers along the way. As soon as the Sleepers have stepped out of the woods, the blue gem will have gone out entirely. The compass can recharge, but it takes several days of rest before it can be used again.
These compasses will protect the group no matter where they go. They can think of a destination in order to be guided by the compass and it will be able to get them there on the fastest route possible. If they were to think abstractly, such as "I want to go somewhere new", it will be able to guide them to a new location that they've never been to before that it feels the person (or persons) may enjoy. Sleepers will have to decide who in the group gets to keep the compass. They can end up lost more than once which gives them more chances to get a compass of their own. Otherwise, the compasses can be shared, and groups who travel together will be kept just as safe as the person carrying the compass itself.
Currently the charge on the compass only lasts for a few miles, but it seems like the more it's used, the farther a person can go. Eventually it will be possible for the Sleepers to use these compasses to safely travel outside of the city limits, but it might take a few months before that becomes doable.
no subject
Like shit, but I'm not coming apart at the seams.
[it sounds melodramatic. he doesn't care so much about that. the missing parts are still missing, but the little that's left has compacted itself into a determined, pissed off little lump. he can stand without stumbling, and he does, waiting to see if his savior does, too.]
Here I'd thought music therapy was bullshit. Huh. Maybe I should have listened to whoever told me to go. [the spectre of a smile almost - but it doesn't reach his eyes. perhaps after this macabre farce is over (rules, why do these things have rules, why stand on ceremony and ritual if nothing else makes any sense?) he'll remember who'd suggested he go. his attention's on that pile of embers now, and he directs the finger of admonishment at it.] I bet you know. I bet you know everything.
no subject
he dispels the guqin with a smooth hand gesture, and it disappears in front of him as though it was never there (magic? magic!). then he unfolds himself from the lotus position and rises to his feet to join mike in surveying the ashen remnants of the draugr they bested together.]
one of my sworn brothers shared with me his sect's cultivation method of using music to heal the mind and spirit, [he explains. he withdraws a small glass jar from the qiankun bag at his hip, then kneels down in the grass to brush a portion of the cooling ashes into the jar. he stoppers it, then rises again, and turns to offer it to mike.]
your memories. [he does not turn to leave, not yet, but he will not presume to bear witness to mike's recovering his memories, or recognizing how much of his pain was seen by jin guangyao.]
no subject
magic is easier to believe (or overlook) with an empty mind - and perhaps once one's casually witnessed oneself conjure something out of the desolate, ashy, angry air what had been there had always been, what was gone had never been there's nowhere else but further down the rabbit hole.
it makes sense in an upside down kind of way. or perhaps it doesn't, really - he is too focused on the task at hand, too aggrieved to pick it apart when he'd rather pick the bones of his tormentor with a baleful, accusatory gaze. in an echo of the afterburn - what's left of the draugr seems to reignite for a fraction of a second - an image flaring under the reality.
one of my sworn brothers
(he remembers a brother. his brother? maybe.) the smile fades into an assessment, a nod, and though he thinks his mind and spirit are perhaps beyond healing - something has shifted enough, here.]
Thank you for...
[stitching what's left of him back together just enough to stand? he's gone wordless again, because what are words when one can neither remember them nor have any point of reference for this. it's a fever dream of epic proportions. it's a nightmare in the tango-light. it's a---
(whiskey tango foxtrot)
yeah. that's it. that's what he whispers, as he moves over to the blackening carcass.]
whiskey. tango. foxtrot.
[pick the bones? make that kick the bones. because he sharply does so - in a puff of stinking smoke, broken inky lumps clattering and rolling - his own stomach following along with that roll for reasons he can't yet name - before he upends the jar into his mouth.]
no subject
[immediately jin guangyao holds up a hand to discourage mike from finishing that sentence, and whether he does so because of jin guangyao for for his own reasons, jin guangyao's relief is the same. while it is reassuring for him to know that he can still use musical cultivation to heal, rather than to harm or kill, it does not change how he has leveraged this gift in the past. that he has used it to cause suffering and, if necessary, knows he would do so again in the future.
he has only a moment to recognize what, exactly, mike is about to do as he approaches the bones. his eyes grow wide, and he steps forward, arm outstretched--]
mike-xiansheng, be careful--
[--but mike kicks the still smouldering bones away anyway, and uncorks the ashes, and downs them like that little jar contains the last drop of fresh water in trench. jin guangyao can only stand beside him, his dismay clear on his features, and watch as mike regains his memories. (he hopes. it would be a real kick in the teeth if they went through all of this for nothing.)]
no subject
m
o
m
e
uʇs
ģ̴̛̟̙̪͓̙͈̗̭̦̈́̍͆̎͝ǫ̴̖̙̜̉õ̶͓̜̤̖̋͐̄̐̇͠ͅd̸̛͔̓ ̸͈̪͉́̈́͋̂̄͠g̶͙̘̦̬̯̙̈̔͊͗̑͑͌̾̓̕ǫ̴̺̯͖͓͙̰̘̹͖̑ḑ̶̭̮̹͇̺̦̣̥̔ͅ
a kick in the teeth is what the draugr has earned - so it's perhaps hilarious and drying, darkly funny that its jaw disconnects and crumbles when he strikes it - when the first in a series of memories strike him - a blunt force that knocks the breath, and he staggers where he stands as the tides roll in. a kick in the gut. a kick in the head. someone's kicked his feet out from under him and he's kneeling again in the ash. if there are cinders, they do not burn.
the sound of a laugh. a raised hand; a clasped hand - his own hands on fire, his own hands striking a match. a napkin. a shotglass. glass eyes and glass animal figures (giraffes). two very different boardwalks, and the familiar click of a tape recorder. click. red eye, red light.
red light.
that tango light (whiskey tango foxtrot) - the lighthouse. the light. the room. a series of rooms overlaid by rooms. hospital beds overlaid by fascimiles of the same, as memories overlap and everything's upside down again. a man screaming. the slap of a hand. the slap of a bracelet. click. clink.
click.
and it's (we've) only just begun.
those goddamned clacking claws and the rush of the water. the blush and bloom of mold on walls, of the sea's roar. a siren. the grown of a wolf. a wail. a girl's laughter. the high, sharp crack of a bat against a well struck ball. a dull thud of a flesh slamming into gravel. a disconnected phone. a woman's exasperated sigh. the lyrics to a song.
♪each journey lasts an age
and my throat feels dry
it must be the lesson
hidden deep inside
it must be the lesson
so roll the tide♪
for a moment he'd swear there was water in his lungs.
fuck the tide. oh, fuck the tide that brought him into this - he curses it with breaths that don't come, and with breaths that do - a vicious torrent of hot tears as he chokes out a name]
Katie.
[as he tries frantically in his delerium to gather up the remains of the draugr as if it were something dear - as if he could put it (and himself) back together again.
that terrible, stretched, everspanning moment finally ends. it ends as it began, the clackity clacking of clicks (and rewinds) reminiscent of crabs, and though he is not retching into his sleeve he is sobbing into it, a repetition of suggestions of phrases, of vocalizations that are more primal than anything else. on their heels:]
---too much.