payingfordeliverance: (Smile: A tender moment)
Xerxes Break ([personal profile] payingfordeliverance) wrote in [community profile] deercountry2021-09-06 12:39 am

001: What have I done? It's too late for that

Who: Xerxes Break and you
What: Catchall for the month. Three open prompts, and some closed ones in the comments.
When: All through September!
Where: Whatever amusing chunk of Trench we wind up in at any given time


Content Warnings: Character is depressed and processing a lot of canon deaths; also, character is blind, and sometimes has a lingering cough due to an old chronic illness! Other warnings will appear in thread headers as necessary.




In and Around Trench: Feel free to choose wherever your character would be! He is exploring, after all

Break arrives in Trench thinking a year-long nap sounds like a fantastic idea and maybe he will do that and everyone will just have to deal with it. It's not even a week before he's too restless to stay settled long, and barely a few days after that he loses his patience with the various fussy teenagers who have already adopted him and takes off on his own to spend his days investigating this new city. To be led about with somebody's arm through his can be very pleasant and enjoyable, but Break's independent streak is as vicious as ever, and anyway, he'll never learn his way around the place until he maps it out on his own. All he has to do to get home is hunt down a lamp, so it's fine, right?

This is not quite as simple as it sounds. Break is completely blind, and has zero context for the place at all.

He has no trouble whatsoever getting around. His omen, a big black borzoi, keeps his shoulder beneath Break's hand and helps him wind his way through crowds; the canesword in his other hand ensures he doesn't run into or trip on anything. He moves it in such a leisurely, whimsical way that at first glance it almost looks like he's swinging it around for the fun of it, rather than using it to find his way. So no, he doesn't run into anyone or anything. No, his real problem is that he's still finding and memorizing various landmarks, the city is huge, and there are plenty of times when Break finds himself in some new place with only half an idea how he got there and no idea at all what he might find. Well! Break does not like being fussed over for being unable to see, but it's not like he can hide it these days, and in a situation like that there's nothing else to do but own it. So, whenever he gets frustrated, he steps to the side a bit where he won't be in the way and lifts his voice to make a cheerful announcement.

"Begging your pardon! I seem to be lost."

Sometimes what he gets out of this is a passing raven cussing him out, which he enjoys. Other times some Trenchie delighted to assist a Sleeper catches him, and he proceeds to charm them into telling him all about the city for as long as they are willing to waste their time on him. Sometimes, he gets a fellow Sleeper. Sometimes he has something specific he is looking for, and other times, he has no idea what is even there to be found, and a small adventure might be had. This is how he spends many of these early days in Trench, and slowly but surely, he begins to put the puzzle of the place together in his mind.



Soup: The "here is my character, come bother him" prompt

The rain and chill do not trouble Break much. If anything they suit his underlying mood perfectly, and he's the sort of guy who is at his comfiest when he can be wrapped up in a nice long coat and stop somewhere for a warm drink. He likes the sound of the rain drumming around on things and he likes taking his little walks more slowly, with only Baltus to guide him around, so that his other hand is free to hold his nice new umbrella. The omen also enjoys these times because it means he gets to carry the canesword around in his mouth like a big stick, which he does proudly and with his head held high, as it is an Extremely Important Job.

Break wastes no time in finding a really good soup place with owners who find him endearing in his eccentricities, and he selects this restaurant as his personal lunch place on especially rainy days. He lingers there to enjoy a cup of tea after his meal, often. He likes the warmth and the smells from the kitchen, and the cozy security of building up stomping grounds. The one sad thing about it is that he usually comes alone, and while it's a comfort to have Baltus tucked in under his chair, some of what he's missing most about the world he left behind is idle chit-chat with his loved ones over tea before everyone got back to their days. That he can no longer see in order to stare out the window or watch the other customers coming and going just makes it worse. Break lives in a bubble of darkness now, and it's easy to lose himself in sad moments when it's just him and his soup and his tea and his weird but devoted shadow creature.

Maybe it's his darkblood powers that make him so eye-catching when he gets into this mood, subtly twisting the atmosphere around him so that the light hits him just so, making him seem weirdly far away and terribly lonely even if he isn't making sad faces. Perhaps it's the way Baltus sometimes emerges from beneath the chair to sit up and drape his long face over Break's lap instead, offering comfort. Or maybe it's just Break's lot in life as a Brooding Swordsman™ that certain kinds of people always really want to reach out to him. Regardless, somehow, even if there are plenty of available places to sit, when Break is wishing he had some company the most inviting chair in the whole restaurant is the one that's across from him.



Omen Funtimes: Two for one special, you can have a dog and a sword

As the month progresses and Break continues to heal from his various maladies, his restless energy only increases, and he resumes training with his sword and even gets to fight a monster. There is decided Bloodsport influence working on him here and quite frankly Break does not notice. He's always been a fidgety guy, and his mood improves significantly after he proves to himself that he can still fight if he has to, even in this place. There is absolutely nothing weird about waking up with an intense craving to hit things with a sword. In fact that's probably the most normal thing to happen to Break since he discovered himself to be a damned squid.

Unfortunately, a side effect of this is that Baltus gets the zoomies.

The omen is very proud of being a church grim rather than a proper dog, but the fact remains that he takes the form of a sighthound, with a prancing gait that shifts into something almost horse-like at top speed. Baltus genuinely tries to remain at Break's side, but their shared restlessness gets to him. Increasingly, on their walks about the town, the omen has to stop and spin to get it out of his system, and sometimes takes off running down the street at full speed only to nyoom right back to Break's side seconds later. Sometimes, instead, Baltus is distracted by an interesting person, and someone might find themselves abruptly dealing with a six-mile nose curiously sticking itself into whatever they are doing.

"Baltus! Stop messing with people, you noodle!"

Getting scolded by Break always results in a vigorous wag from the omen's plume of a tail. Baltus is happy that they are both feeling so energetic...!

By the end of the month Break has decided neither of them are fit to be out in public and has discovered the Farther Shores, where he enjoys going barefoot on the warm sands and Baltus can run as he pleases, unobstructed. Sometimes, Baltus even goads Break into chasing after him, or wrestling with him playfully in the surf. Break's sword is never far from his hand. If anyone were to stumble on them here, it likely wouldn't take much to get a friendly spar out of him. If not, omen playtime is equally welcome. Break is just really enjoying this whole thing where he can run around and breathe at the same time.
swornto: (57)

[personal profile] swornto 2021-09-07 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
For Oz, the past three days have been spent restlessly wandering the Trench. He does not want to let his mind linger on the Alices, knowing that he will drive himself insane, but linger on them it does. He's spent the past three days searching for them, but disguising his efforts under pretty new titles: "I'm going to go look for food!" "I'll go find new clothes." "Maybe I can find a newspaper." "I'll explore the shops."

He's told so many lies in order to escape the truth: the Alices are gone. Gil is gone. Oz is the only one here...

Well. That's also a lie, isn't it?

"A place of your own? What a nice idea!" Oz sits cheerfully at a desk with a teacup, long since drained but not craving a refill. "There sure are a loooot of houses looking for people to live in them, huh? What makes this one stand out?"

Oz does not yet imply that he'll be coming with Xerxes. Alice is not here, so Oz is devoted to the loneliness of not having her, thank you! He knows it's bad. He desperately wants to break the cycle of this selfish self-pity. But it's so hard. He's so tired.
greatestfall: (We're still the same)

[personal profile] greatestfall 2021-09-07 04:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Good thing Elliot is here, then. The book in Elliot’s hand hits the back of Oz’s head with a hollow Thunk! as the boy moves to stand up.

“Don’t start that nonsense, you pain in the ass. You’re coming with us.”

Elliot says it with such a finality, and the look he fixes Oz is so pointed he hopes the other boy won’t dare to challenge him on it. Elliot has had …somewhat of an easier time in this adjustment? Being as truly and utterly dead as he was made him come to terms pretty quick with how final everything had been on the other side. That he’s been given this at all seems too kind, in the grand scheme of things. If this was really some kind of afterlife, then they needed a proper place to live. He wouldn’t tolerate an Inn for much longer if he could help it.

He turns to Break after a moment, curiosity on his face. There were indeed a lot of houses out and about, so that Break found one that caught his attention enough to tell them was interesting.

“What sort of house is it?”
Edited 2021-09-07 16:20 (UTC)

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bolstafir: (pic#14876422)

slides in late with starbucks....lmk if this works!!

[personal profile] bolstafir 2021-09-24 11:11 am (UTC)(link)
[Qrow is not the world's biggest fan of rain, especially as a walking harbinger of misfortune. Rainy days mean problems like slick roads where people can fall and vehicles can crash, where things can become soggy and fall apart, especially if it means something can fall on someone nearby. Sometimes it even means power outages or flooded basements, depending on how bad the storm is.

But in Trench, it rains more often than it doesn't, and there's only so much one can stay cooped up inside, especially with the Sleepers possessed of a lowkey compulsion to expend energy this month. So Qrow is wandering through the street, hooded jacket keeping the rain off his face while keeping his hands free to nurse some kind of warm beverage. He sips at it carefully as he walks, pausing to let the steam warm his face every few sips, when he happens to spot a familiar face in his path. He slows down in his steps to pause by the other man's side.]


Bird friends, huh. [He quips, grinning cheekily.] Careful, you'll make a man jealous.

[Little does he know these friends are about to be a rather large nuisance -- which, par for the course with corvids, frankly. Magical or otherwise.]
Edited 2021-09-24 11:11 (UTC)

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notimeforfailure: (Cheerful)

it's a puppy

[personal profile] notimeforfailure 2021-09-06 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh!"

There is a girl walking down the street with her nose in a book. This is not entirely unusual as Break and Balthus have wandered into Gaze; slightly more unusual is the fact that she seems to be consciously using it as a shield, obscuring her face purposefully. When she lowers the book to glance at what's bumped into her, her face is initially pale and strained.

That is, until...

It's a puppy...

Though she has aged to near adulthood, Lysithea will never outgrow her susceptibility to cute things.

"Oh -- hello, you. Are you lost? Are you hungry? Ah, cute... I do have cake..."

Balthus gets a few tentative headpats as Lysithea searches for pocket cake.
Edited (in retrospect, i realize now that i've played young women who like cute things and cake for the last five years) 2021-09-06 16:05 (UTC)
notimeforfailure: (Surprise)

[personal profile] notimeforfailure 2021-09-06 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)
But! Even shadow puppies like cake, right, even if they don't need to eat it...?

Lysithea stiffens suddenly as a humanoid approaches - much less desirable company, really, just the dog would have been fine - but she recognizes soon enough from his words...

"Ah. This is your Omen?"

(Very disappointing.)

Well, at least it's solid enough to pet, even if it doesn't eat cake, and Lysithea will indulge the puppy as much as it desires. To Break, she responds in a slightly stiff tone of voice, avoiding his eyes... consequently not quite realizing that she didn't actually need to avoid his eyes.

"So you must be a Sleeper? Unless the natives have Omens as well -- I find the lore somewhat difficult to keep track of at the moment. Don't let me get in the way if you have business elsewhere."

(Pet pet... pet pet...)
Edited 2021-09-06 22:23 (UTC)

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bolstafir: (pic#13733777)

look who's coming to breakfast ( for break & oz )

[personal profile] bolstafir 2021-09-08 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Qrow, as a general rule, tends to sleep like shit. There's hardly a Huntsman alive who doesn't have some manner of trauma, compounded as the years go on and one gathers more and more harrowing experiences under one's belt, and Qrow in particular happens to be--shall we say, somewhat above the curve in this department. Nightmares are all too common a plague with this one. On top of that, sleeping too long or deeply is dangerous when outside of Kingdom walls, what with Grimm everywhere out there, drawn to the negativity that lurks within human souls.

He tends to get his rest in snatches of catnaps more often--little dozes where he doesn't spend too long under the veil of his own subconscious. Perhaps not the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but Qrow has never exactly been a master at coping well.

This morning, though, is different. Apparently the wound had taken more out of him than he'd realized, because he goes out like a light the moment he lays down, and perhaps it is the influence of the moon on Palebloods this month or perhaps it is the exhaustion, but instead of waking in a cold sweat multiple times, breathing hard in the dark as he waits for his racing heart to settle down...well, he doesn't wake at all until the light of dawn hits his face through the curtains, and he's staring up blearily at the ceiling with a sort of disorientation before he remembers where he is and what happened the previous night.

--Ah, it's morning. Break had mentioned something about breakfast when they'd parted ways for the night, and while he's normally never one to turn down a free meal, it does feel a bit awkward, especially when he doesn't know the other inhabitants of this house. Maybe he'll just slip out quietly, leaving a note with his thanks. He figures he should be getting back home soon, anyway; Trench's perpetually inclement weather had provided him a decent excuse for finding shelter elsewhere for the night, but it won't hold water if he delays too long in coming back.

Thus decided, he resolves to leave a note, having forgotten momentarily that his gracious host is blind. There's no desk in the room, so he sets out toward the common living spaces to try to hunt down some paper and a pen. This task is diligently pursued until it is successful, and it is not until Xerxes' name is committed to paper that he realizes he's a fool. Excuse him a moment as he dramatically slumps against the counter on which he was writing, distracted just long enough that he doesn't think to bird himself and flee the moment he hears approaching footsteps.]
Edited 2021-09-08 09:09 (UTC)
swornto: (Default)

[personal profile] swornto 2021-09-08 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[While Oz has not dealt with nightmares for very long, he is certainly finding his share of them nowadays. When he was rushing to stop Glen, Oz had no time to stand still and process his own grief. He'd never even processed the pain of losing Elliot before he was on the run.

No, he hasn't slept very well. But also, no; He's not going to show as much. Instead, Oz takes the tiniest sign of morning as an excuse to stop trying to sleep. He left bed when he heard the sounds of someone in the common living areas. He'd thought it might be Break or Elliot. He debated if he would make Gil proud and talk to them about his feelings. Instead, he hears neither the telltale clown steps of Break nor the dignified stomps stride of Elliot. It's someone else. Someone he can't talk to.

So he puts on a show instead.]


Goooood morninggg! [Almost running into the living area and purposefully pretending that he isn't a perceptive brat, Oz waves an arm like he's expecting to greet a friend. Then, upon confirming it is a stranger in the living room, he lowers his arm and smiles mischievously.]

Sleeping on the counter can't be good for you~. Do you need coffee or tea?

[don't let oz make either

you will die.]
bolstafir: (pic#13734041)

[personal profile] bolstafir 2021-09-08 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[You know that part of the horror movie where the character that's about to die a gruesome death hears an awful Noise and then s l o w l y turns their head to confront the source of their imminent destruction? Yeah. It's kind of like that.

Qrow freezes at the singsongy voice that is somehow weirdly similar to Break's (he had said he lived with someone .... is it his son, maybe??) and needs a good several seconds to uncurl himself from the counter and look up with extreme reluctance. He has hecked up. He's hecked up real bad.]


...Uhh. Whatever you've got on hand's fine.

[Is there any chance this kid will let him get away without asking nosy questions .... probably not. He can feel it in the air. The sparkles are coming for him.]

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fullmast: (lio - 02)

spot of soup;

[personal profile] fullmast 2021-09-12 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Flynn Fairwind is a Kul Tiran and therefore rain and chill might as well be in his blood. Or maybe the power to guard against them is. He supposes there should be some irony in the fact that he has found himself categorized as a Warmblood, in this place, all things considered.

As such, the rain and chill soothe him somewhat. Remind him of home, and he finds himself needing familiar and cozy things right now, at a time when so much else seems to be thrown on its head. This establishment is maybe not exacly something he might have found on the streets of Boralus, but the fare is hearty and warm and it does the trick when all Flynn really needs is to get out of his head and have a little meal with a little company.

Which is why he finds himself here on this day, with a bowl of his own, searching out an open seat across from someone who might be looking for the same thing. Or at least across from someone who doesn't look at him, take one look at him and the parrot he has sitting on his shoulder, and quickly make their excuses not to connect with him after all.

"Excuse me, mate?" Flynn pipes up, sidling up to the chair in question. "Are you saving this seat for anyone in particular?"

"Mate!" squawks Mathias from his shoulder. Flynn has been doing his best, but his vocabulary is still somewhat lacking.
fullmast: (lio - 04)

[personal profile] fullmast 2021-09-18 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Flynn does notice the slightly unfocused gaze the other man gives him, connecting the dots and determining that he either cannot see, or cannot see very well, but it doesn't bother him any. He is a former pirate, after all. He's lived his life around all sorts, and a great many of those eye-patches were not just for show. The man doesn't seem to have any obvious malady that might have caused his loss of sight, though Flynn knows very well that not every affliction is written across a man's skin for all to see.

"Ah," he says sheepishly, sinking down into the offered chair with a whump, "cheers, mate. Hope you don't mind him. He's generally pretty quiet -- as far as parrots go," he amends, with a slight wince. "Thought we both could do with a bit of fresh air, though. Help him learn the lay of the land so I don't feel quite as nervy letting him fly as he pleases, y'know."

As they do. In Kul Tiras, at any rate.

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bythelight: (1)

In and Around Trench;

[personal profile] bythelight 2021-09-18 03:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Anduin doesn't know Trench back to front, not yet, but he knows his way back and forth from a few places. It's been enough to get him through, and he's doing well at finding his way back to his house and out to one or two shops. That will do, he thinks, while they're still all finding their place. He's not certain how long he'll be here, but he doesn't need to rush to learn every corner of it just yet -- especially not when he's uncertain how dangerous it might be.

He's paused to one side of the road in Cassandra, digging through his bag thoughtfully when a voice draws his attention.

He looks up, eyes flitting between the figure and the dog. It seems calm enough, quite large but he's seen the enormous wolves the Horde use as mounts.

"Lost?" he repeats, dragging his eyes back up to Break's face. "Where are you trying to get to?"
bythelight: (3)

[personal profile] bythelight 2021-09-24 10:23 am (UTC)(link)
Oh! Anduin brightens, looking between the dog as it wags its tail contently and the man.

"You're certainly in the right place. Disciple's Defense is the largest -- you are right, though. There's several smaller stores, and of course they burn it all over the streets here as well to keep things at bay."

'Things' which Anduin has yet to see for himself, but which he's sure he will before too long. He hesitates, glancing over Break once more as he considers his option.

"I can take you there, if you like? I live nearby, so it isn't out of my way."

There's a lot of context clues that tell Anduin simply giving directions may not be the easiest solution, unless of course the dog can understand directions? Can it? He supposes it might be able to, but Light it would be awkward to make that assumption and be wrong.
justoscar: (embarrassed)

Omen Funtimes!

[personal profile] justoscar 2021-09-19 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
Oscar had been out doing some shopping for kitchen supplies, like various dry goods, spices, and herbs, when he suddenly found himself tripping over the massive hound that had barreled into him on the sidewalk. Fatigue from not sleeping properly was starting to get to him, and it only exacerbated his troubles getting accustomed to his prosthetic leg in new terrain. His reaction time had been slowed by this; naturally, he fell down.

A startled yelp, accompanied by the sounds of several sacks scattering on the ground, came from the lad and was punctuated by an equally startled laugh.

"Wait-- who are you?"

Oscar squealed between giggles, trying to find his footing while the dog that was more legs and snoot than actual dog nosed and snuffled at his hair, his jacket, and especially the suspiciously maple syrup scented scarf he had quickly come to love wearing openly.
justoscar: (big grin)

[personal profile] justoscar 2021-09-20 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
The snuffling did elicit more giggles, not unlike the time Oscar had been plowed down by a different dark and massive creature who had nosed through his hair and clothes in search of treats. Recalling how his horse had only wanted his cookies they day they met, Oscar squeaked out:

"I-I'm sorry! I don't have any dog cookies today!"

But he would make sure to have some in the future.

Diggs, the tiny winged deer-like creature, had wisely kept a distance-- this was no time for combat, but it didn't want to get trampled either! -- and was sauntering rings around them in and squeaking in excitement. As far as soul manifestations went, a peryton that could fit into Oscar's backpack was not anything that had been expected. Oddly wise at times, yet childish at others, Diggs could be a mystery.

Perhaps, not unlike the boy himself.

Spotting the offered hand, Oscar accepted the aid to stand up.

"Zoomies, huh?" He asked, chagrin coloring his voice. "I've never seen them like that before. But, a fluffy corgi isn't a good comparison to this handsome dog."

Edited 2021-09-20 02:19 (UTC)

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This is BEAUTIFUL

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blackmothwings: (61)

Soup

[personal profile] blackmothwings 2021-09-19 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
Lucille would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the rain and cold. There is something about the patter of raindrops against cobblestone and the feeling of the icy breeze brushing against her cheek that soothes her weary heart. She's always preferred the gloom to the bright, sunny days that most other people seem to adore.

She ducks into the restaurant, hoping to find a quiet place to gather her thoughts and feelings. This world is new and strange to her, and she needs time to process everything she has seen.

Her eyes scan the room, and she notices empty tables and empty chairs. And she sees a gentleman sitting on his own. She would typically avoid approaching strangers, but she gets the impression that it isn't wise to alienate people in Trench. It isn't wise to be alone.

"Hello, sir. May I join you on this most dreary day?"
Edited 2021-09-19 05:24 (UTC)
blackmothwings: (63)

[personal profile] blackmothwings 2021-10-06 08:19 am (UTC)(link)
It's a relief to find herself in a world that seems so similar to her own. Although she is sure that there are dangers here, just as there were dangers in Deerington, she is still enamored by the buildings, and by the general aesthetic of the world they've found themselves in. She had grown fond of Deerington, over time, but she didn't love the modernity of the place. It seemed strange at times. Intimidating.

Not that she'd ever admitted that she felt intimidated.

She watches Baltus, her features stoic and unchanging -- she's almost like a statue. She's often been like this around strangers -- cold and standoffish. When she doesn't know how to react, she chooses to remain completely expressionless.

"He's rather clever," she comments, taking a seat. She does offer Baltus a gracious nod, as a way of acknowledging his good manners. "Thank you. I do hope I'm not imposing on you, or your helpful companion here."

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