deercountry | and my heart went 'boom!'

and my heart went 'boom!'

FEBRUARY 2023 EVENT

Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, prompts from the PREVIOUS FEBRUARY are available for use again. Please note when you are using this years prompts vs last years prompts when plotting or writing top-levels to avoid confusion.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: A broken mirror with a woman looking into it, pressing her fingers against the glass. ]
[Image Two: A rose lit up like embers. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Neon hearts glowing on a wall. ]
[Image Two: A pocket watch on top of a book page. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A young woman with dark hair standing in the snow with red flowers. ]
[Image Two: Footprints in the snow. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

BAD LUCK OF THE EARLY WORM

WHEN: February
WHERE: All around the city
CONTENT WARNINGS: Curses, violence, danger, misfortune

Everyone has their own streak of bad times. There are some days or weeks whre it feels like nothing is going right. Most people would try and tell say that it's just the tendency to focus on the negative. That it can be relieved by writing down all the good things that happen in our lives, because we have a tendency to only ever focus on the bad. And maybe most of the time, people are right! Maybe the idea of luck really is just perspective.

But not in Trench. Not this month.

No matter what way it's looked at, bad luck seems to be clinging to some people. It might start out small, with simple things like knocking over a favorite drink or snack, or ruining a project that had hours invested into it. Then it might become bigger. A person might start to trip over things and injuring themselves, they might get lost in a blizzard and nearly freeze before finding their way home or to someone they know. Eventually, it could even become undeniably dangerous. The person impacted by bad luck could start to notice corruption levels rising quickly, they could start to turn into a beast at random, they could start to attract violent beasts to them and put themselves or others at risk with heavy battles. The possibilities seem to be endless and none of them are good. Did someone break a mirror? Or twenty?

It will be easy to see that this isn't just impacting one person. Sleepers and Trenchies alike seem to be being plagued by streaks of bad luck across the board. Luckily, the locals seem to know what to do about it. Bad luck pops up from time to time, and of course there would be a ritual to help cleanse it.

Small vendors will start to pop up through the city selling wooden carvings that they promise will absorb all the bad luck that's been going around and dispell it with a simple ritual. A drop of blood from the person impacted and a drop of blood from someone they are close should be placed upon the carving. The blood types of the persons involved should not match (i.e. Coldblood/Coldblood would not work, but Coldblood/Warmblood would). It must be left to soak into the wood overnight, leaving behind deep red stains. The carving must then be placed with a fully bloomed rose and burned in the entrance doorway to the home of the inflicted. The ashes should then be placed into a container and kept somewhere in the home for the duration of February, to make sure that the bad luck stays away.

It seems like it really works! The tricky part is making sure that the bad luck following doesn't get in the way of the ritual while the blood is soaking over night. It may be best for both parties involved to hunker down together until morning, just in case. Time to break out the small talk. Or the deep, meaningful conversations that can sometimes happen in the middle of the night.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

GETTING TO KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU

WHEN: February
WHERE: A magic room in the city.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Reference to mild shocks. Forced honesty. Embarrassment. Lots and lots of embarrassment.

Honestly, after being in Trench for so long, people should be used to not ending up in the destination they initially intended for. This month, it seems like the city is trying to encourage people to social, to form new bonds, whether they're romantic, platonic, familial, or any other option one could think of. The bright idea this month for that sort of thing?

Speed dating.

It's not traditional speed dating, necessarily. No one is here to exclusively seek romantic partners, although there are certainly options for it. And it's not something people are signing up for out of their own free will. Instead, people seem to simply show up at the event, with no real recollection of how they got there. Maybe they just woke up on one of the comfy couches and found a "Hi, my name is..." sticker slapped on them. Or maybe they were wandering in the snow and got lost, ending up finding shelter in this strange place, and are now forced to participate until the blizzard passes. All in all, it's harmless fun, isn't it? Who doesn't need a few new friends.

Each person will have a small information blurb given about them that can't be seen by the naked eye, but will appear as soon as someone looks at the other party through their omni. What the blurb says is unique to each person, but it might become clear pretty quickly that they didn't write it themselves... Deerington survivors may find themselves having flashbacks to the days of DeerlyBeloved.

Pairings are completely random. People will be given a series of random questions they can ask one another or they can always feel free to make up their own. Anyone who tries to lie or avoid answering a question might feel a small shock from the chair they're sitting in, one that gets stronger with every lie they tell. The after effects of the shock seem to encourage the need to answer the question with full transparency. It's important to tell the truth when getting to know someone, after all.

After five minutes, both parties can either press a button beside their chair to continue talking to the person they're paired with, or they can move on to the next pairing. Both parties have to press the button in order to stay where they are.

Have fun and remember to always be honest!

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

LONELY HEARTS CLUB

WHEN: February
WHERE: Trenchwood and throughout the city.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, abuse of power, jealousy, possession, supernatural events, possible death from elemental exposure

There's a tale that comes up around this time of year, one that seems to be an old favorite in Trench. Long ago, in the heart of a blizzard, a young woman was found wandering in Trenchwood. She wore only thin fabrics to keep herself warm and had no shoes. Her skin felt cold as ice. The Hunters who found her quickly brought her into town, giving her shelter in a local in to try and get her warm. She stayed for many nights and it didn't take long for the inn keeper to fall in love with her. But she did not seem to return to his feelings and so he was heartbroken and jealous of all the other men who gave her attention. He demanded she offer him something in trade for her stay and when she could offer nothing, he threw her back out into the snow. The woman went back to the woods and some could hear her howling in anguish, carried through on the strong winds of the blizzard. The Hunters tried to find her, following her cries, but they were unable to, and had to return home before they too might freeze to death. The innkeeper was shunned from the town and forced to leave the city for his cruelty, but nothing stopped the howls of the snow woman.

Throughout the month of February, people will start to hear that the sound of the wind blowing strongly through the streets is starting to sound a little more human-like. The woman's cries will be heard in empty alleys, will be loudest near the edge of the woods, and can even penetrate into dreams. The cries might sometimes sound like cries for help, begging for someone to help save her from the cold. There will be a compulsion that sets deep into the bones of some and many will find it hard to resist her call. Eventually, they may even go looking for her in the woods, trying to brave the winter storms to help the lost snow woman.

Those who give in to that temptation will eventually find the snow woman, but she will not be friendly when found. Her skin has turned a pale white, her lips blue, her eyes glowing a bright red, her long hair blowing every which way in the wind. She will rush at whoever she sees, but instead of giving a physical blow to guard against, she will go through any solid objects and latch on to the soul of her target, possessing their bodies. Male or female, it doesn't seem to matter, she simply wants a chance at life again.

Those who are possessed by the snow woman will not realize they are possessed. They will forget why it was they came out into the woods looking for and will return to the city in a daze. As time passes, they will find that they become irritated by any signs of affection, will become physically aggressive towards couples they see around them, and will attack those who care about them most. The spirit does not necessarily hate love: instead, they see affection as a possible risk for all those who love others. Jealousy kills and she wants to save everyone around her from it, as well as keeping herself safe from losing this new chance at life.

Signs of possession outside of the aggression can be noticed by others. The possessed person will have: ice cold skin, blue-tinged lips, they might shiver even when inside where it's warm, and an aversion to fire or warm/hot water.

Information on how to banish the snow woman from another's body can be found in a book of local legends. This book is sold in stores or can be found in the Archives. To save someone from the snow woman, people must tell the possessed person the things they love most about them. It will cause the possessed person to react violently, so it is suggested that they be restrained during the process. The longer they are forced to hear the positive messages about love, the feelings that they can stir up in another (whether platonic or romantic), and the safety that can be found in that love, the more weakened the hold from the snow woman will be. When the possessed person eventually stops struggling, a cut must be made on the back of their neck, before a cloth soaked in warm rose water must be placed on top of the wound. Their skin will begin to steam before a large gust of snow will pour from their mouth, swirling around the room, and smash through the window. It's suggested to leave it open if you'd like to save the glass.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

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He leans against Peter gently, taking a few deep breaths. "I took on the responsibility. I'm... I know I was supposed to do all of that. If I hadn't... I don't know who would have. But..."

It's hard, to think about his own burdens. It feels selfish - sure, he's seen awful things. But there's people who have suffered, really suffered... he doesn't feel worthy of care or of concern. He's just so used to being the person others confide in, that others go to.

"I'm... usually the quiet one. People talk to me, not the other way around."

Peter's quiet for a few long moments, listening, swallowing a couple of times against that lump pressing in his throat. It's strange, how you can meet someone new and end up sharing hearts with that person. In this place, like back in Deerington, it's actually a weirdly frequent occurrence; how many times has Peter found himself forced into honesty because of some effect of the town, or having to rely on a stranger in a deeply personal way in order to just survive some bizarre, nightmarish situation?

But this..... is different. It's so different. Nobody's forced him to meet this person, or to listen to him, or to be listened to by him. And it's... it's important, it means something. Even if this is all uncomfortable and upsetting and strange — he's not at all regretting meeting Nara'a today. No, he's... glad, and he's glad that someone who's been carrying so much for so long... was able to open up about some of it.

"I'm glad you told me. I— I know it isn't easy. When you've been carrying so much shit for so long, and maybe in a lot of ways it's... easier to just keep it to yourself. But... it's too much for one person to carry all the time. I don't mind if you ever need someone to talk to. About those nightmares."

He knows Nara'a doesn't know him, but.... there's something about hearing someone's hurts and traumas, it.... it's something deep. Peter won't forget any of this, will take care of what he's been told, gently. And just as gently, continuing a little further, because.... he doesn't want him to feel alone.

"I understand a lot of what you've said. Um... maybe in different ways, and you've clearly been through enough for several fucking lifetimes, but.... I understand what it's like to just... to wish things didn't have to hurt so much. To always wish that." Peter swallows again, glances down. There's still a lot he's still not sure he's ready to say aloud, and some things he doesn't think he'll ever be able to. But....

"Something.... really bad happened to my family. I think maybe some of it was my fault. No— I know some was. It's all really... weird, and complicated—" Peter grimaces, flinches like he's been hit.

"—and now there's something.... bad inside of me. Really bad, something with its own.... mind, something fucking alive. And I'm— I'm never going to be the same me, anymore. I think one day it might take over me completely. And I don't know what to do about it. I just... feel the nightmares, and I don't know how to stop them. I don't know how to make things stop hurting."

"It's not easy. And... I appreciate it." He's not so good at contacting people about his nightmares - he just deals with them and tries to go to sleep again. Often, he can't. It doesn't help his mental health much and it doesn't help his corruption, either.

He listens attentively as Peter speaks, tilting his head back to look at the younger man. Something really bad... he frowns and turns to look at the other more fully, taking his hands in his own, gently. "I'm sure you did the best that you could under whatever circumstances you were dealing with."

Something inside of him, though? Like... "A possession? That does sound worrisome. And... you really have been dealing with a lot yourself." He squeezes Peter's hands carefully, reassuringly. "I have a little experience with that myself, though I..." He looks to the side for a moment, glancing at his bag. "I entered that contract willingly."

He knows how that sounds, but... "It's a mutually beneficial pact, in my case. It sounds like it's less mutually beneficial and willing in your case, however. ... If you want to talk about it, I'm willing to listen. But you don't have to. I know such matters can be... both very private and very misunderstood."

Peter's quiet for a long moment as Nara'a takes his hands, letting the older man gently grasp them. His heart skips a beat at the words — at his own quiet shame, expression pinching inwards for a moment, something painful. That's the thing, isn't it. On one hand, Peter did try to do the best he could with the ways he could survive his home situation, but.... for him, than meant numbing himself down and giving into his mother and just doing what she wanted to keep the peace. He didn't fight back, that night when he should have. And someone else suffered because of him (the nightmare comes almost every single night, the image of his little sister, torn into two pieces).

He swallows those thoughts, though his hands tremble a little. But he's blinking up at Nara'a with eyes slowly widening, surprised — a... contract with something like that? A willing one?

There's a quiet horror at the idea, but a curiosity that presses forward in him, and Peter's mouth parts. "There's... something inside of you?" A beat. Using the word will probably betray what he's talking about regarding his own situation, but at this point.... there's really no use trying to hide it. Not when he's talking to someone who can relate, in whatever ways that might be.

"Is it... a demon?"

"there's... many things inside of me." He doesn't mean to say it, and there's a moment of surprise as he realizes that he did. His ears and tail both go straight up before relaxing down again. "It's... complicated. Parts of me, and a version of me from another world... both long stories."

Focus, Nara'a. He blinks and nods slowly. "A voidsent. Which... seems to be roughly equivalent to a 'demon'. They're from a world swallowed by elemental Darkness, forced to exist in a constant search for aether. They devour each other and try to conquer each other's territory. They can't die - if they do they just re-form unless they're consumed. It's... a horrible place to have to live."

"Reapers are a... sect from a place called Garlemald, far away from where I was born. A few of them came to a city on my continent to hide. One of them offered me the soul stone of a former Reaper, and it came with the voidsent that had been their partner. It offered... a pact. I would give it some of my aether and find things to slay for it to consume, and it would give me more speed and strength. I can... temporarily host it, letting it take over and unleash more of its power."

He pauses for a moment, trying to find the words. "It's not... 'safe'. But even before I knew more about the Void I felt... bad for it. It just wanted to survive. It didn't do anything wrong - it was people who pulled it through the cracks between worlds and bound it in a pact. We have an... understanding. But I know that's not possible for everyone."

Peter blinks at that phrasing, once again finding himself taken aback. It was fairly recently that he said something very similar to someone — sometimes a person is just haunted by so many weird, conceptual things.....!

There's more to wonder about, but for the moment Peter's focusing on the specific word that he's given. Voidsent. Even the name alone sounds.... frightening, much less the description that Nara'a gives. Parts of that do seem similar to whatever the fuck Paimon is — and there are certainly some differences too, but there's one part to it that makes him give a soft, surprised exhale.

It was... people, who pulled this thing through. Bound it somehow.

"It's.... Something like that actually kind of happened to my... thing, too. People— witches, back in my world, this.... cult. They worshipped him, wanted to bring him into my world so he could grant their wishes, give them wealth and... secrets of the universe and... all kinds of things."

Peter swallows, staring into space for a moment, eyes a little glazed. All of it still feels so surreal to voice aloud. Even now, it feels like somebody else saying the words. Like he's detached from himself.

"I was...... sacrificed to him. They needed the right host to put him in. I think they were planning it for a really long time."

...Maybe since he was born. Maybe since before then. The horror of it still contains many unknowns.

That... sounds like voidsent worshipers to him, but he lets Peter continue. Sacrificed... he knows that sacrifices of living people is sometimes a thing, though more often it's dead bodies that are inhabited by the voidsent if it's not a statue or something similar.

"I'm so sorry, Peter." He reaches up and puts a hand on the back of the other's head, stroking his hair gently, mindful of his slight claws. "That's awful. That's awful, and I can't imagine how horrible it would be. You didn't deserve that. You deserve so much more."

He moves to carefully give the other a hug. "You weren't given a choice. That's not fair in the slightest. You're very strong, for having survived like that for.. however long it's been."

Peter feels a hand at the back of his head, eyes widening slowly with those soft strokes. But he isn't pulling away from the touch, not like he usually might, because sometimes there are moments he can't. ...Doesn't want to. There have been other strangers over time to hold him, and Peter's fallen into them like a child. He still feels so small, some days. Most days. He misses his mother, no matter how much he may have also feared her. He wishes his father would've held him this way.

He closes his eyes, letting himself be small, and held. The arms are moving around him into a hug, and he lets himself go a little limp, tilting against the man. Nara'a says all the things Peter wants to hear, needs to hear, wishes he could hear. Wishes he could sink into the way he physically sinks into the other man. But something bubbles up in him, small and ashamed.

"I think... I think maybe I did deserve it. I— did something horrible, something.... evil. My soul— I think my soul's bad."

His voice trembles, wet around the edges. It's the thought that haunts him constantly, and why, even now, he doesn't really resist Paimon the way others might have tried to. He deserves this. And he isn't strong, or brave, or good.

Whispered with a soft sound— "I'm not a good person."

"No, Peter, no." He shakes his head and smiles a bit shakily. How dare people treat this sweet boy so horribly? He can feel anger rising, anger at the people who had to have hurt him so much to make him feel this way. Sure, Nara'a was teased, but not tormented enough to think that his soul is bad.

"It's not. Believe me, it's not. I've known people who are truly awful, and even then... it's not their souls but their actions, their lives and decisions that have become bad. Things happen to people and people react, and they can make many choices. That doesn't mean there's not some spark of goodness at their core."

Even Fandaniel was once Hermes, a gentle soul with a love of life - and it was only in facing existential dread that he turned to despair. Even Zenos, someone who he still considers to be far beyond any redemption possible... even he pulled through and did something good. Even if he did it for his own ends, there was a spark of hope there.

"And you? You're far better than many people I've met. You care about people. That's a sign of goodness, if nothing else. You didn't deserve what happened. You deserve better than you were given. And I know that's hard to believe from a stranger but... I believe in you. Even if you can't believe in yourself."

Peter listens, his heart thumping hard, but his upset kept quietly, soft exhales. Again, he wishes he could lean into the words, but..... he can't. What he'd done... ruined.... how he'd ruined it. It's unforgiveable. What he'd done to his family. To— Charlie.

Of course his mother would hate him. Fucking hate him. At the core of himself, Peter knows he deserves that hatred.

So he sits there unmoving, listening to the man's words, the softness, kindness of them, but knowing he doesn't deserve that much generosity. Someone who would tell a stranger they believe in him.... it speaks to this man's character. Peter feels the familiar beast that lives within him, deep in the pit of his stomach, the guilt — tighten itself, so much it hurts and he gives a soft sound. He didn't mean for this person to care about him, to believe in him — it isn't fair to Nara'a.

Something tenses in him suddenly, an odd shudder that slips down his spine. Hating himself is usually a numb detachment, but sometimes he feels it like a knife cutting inwards. Peter feels himself withdrawing a little, wanting to shrink away. He opened up too much, and now someone's worried about him, cares about him, someone who has enough to fucking worry about. He hates how easy it is for him to crumble. It's fucking pathetic.

"I'm— sorry. Sitting here like some dumb.... kid, about to cry on you.... fuck." Peter gives his head a slight, rigid shake. "You shouldn't— have to. But thank you. For.... listening. I'm sorry."

He feels the other twitch and - oh. Did he say something wrong? He hopes not... he frowns and lets the other pull back if he wants, even if that's not what Nara'a wants. "No, it's okay. I don't mind. Really, I don't." Maybe it's a way to hide from his own problems, when he focuses on others - but that's something to unpack another day.

"There's no reason for you to apologize. It's okay, Peter. ... I hope you know that you can always come talk to me if you need someone to listen to you." His voice is calm, patient - probably a little British to Peter's ear, though not very distinct. "You're always welcome to come to me." He takes a step away and just... sort of hovers there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"You're a good person. Even if you can't believe that." He has to believe in other people, he has to. He has no other way of living - of existing -B other than that.

It's definitely not anything the other man has done, but rather Peter's own... wounds. It's.... strange, hard, aches to hear someone think so nicely of him, be so kind to him when he doesn't deserve it. Something in Peter can't help shying away from that, shirking like it hurts: a thumb pressed into a bruise.

But he can see that Nara'a is affected by his tension, and the younger boy offers a little smile, sincere even if it's soft.

"No, I— I really appreciate that. Um..... everything you've done today, you've— just to have someone there to listen to? And talk to. I know it can't have been easy to talk about everything, but... it means a lot."

'You're a good person. Even if you can't believe that.'

Peter's eyelids give another soft flutter, and his mouth parts slightly, glancing downwards. It.... reminds him of Luna, again; this man reminds him of her, with some of the things he says and... how he says them. She's always done that — believed in him when he couldn't do it for himself.

"Thank you. I'm....... I want to try to be.... better. A better person." His smile wavers, another lump in his throat that he swallows against. He doesn't think he can ever be a good person, but maybe he can be... better than this. Maybe.

"Maybe we can help each other. Try to stay sane in this fucking place." He manages a little echo of a laugh.

He pulls back a little, holding Peter's hand gently. "I think that's a good thing to try to do. We're all slowly getting better." He'd like to hope so, anyway. The alternative is worse. "I'd like to help each other. You're already being a big help by getting me these books, and again by just... listening to me."

He doesn't open up all that easily but... there's something about Peter that reminds him of himself. He can't help it. "I'm not always on the network, but if you message me I'll answer. I promise. So if you need anything - whether it's someone to talk to or someone to help fight off a Beast - you can call on me."

"It's important to have friends here, for many reasons. Partly to stay safe, but... also because there's a lot of good people here. You just have to not be too afraid to talk to them. Or... listen, a lot of the time." He's not sure how long Peter's been here, but... well. That's just from his own observations at least.

"Deep breaths, Peter. Keep your chin up. You can do whatever it is that you want to do. I'll help you however I can."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

and my heart went 'boom!'

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cw: brief mention of child death

6.2 spoilers

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Heavy Endwalker spoilers

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