CHOICES AND REPRISALS

[reddosmod]

APRIL 2023 EVENT

Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, some of last year's April Prompts are available for use. Prompt Number 2 (Wonderkind) will be occurring again this month. Prompt Number 1 (Moonlit Butterfly Migration) does not occur, and many in Trench are publicly shocked not to see the migration. Hunters report that the Butterflies do pass along the edges of the community but they seem to be all carrying an immense amount of hope energy this year. Disciples and Arcane Scholars mutually agree (for once) that this must be because Riteior's defeat is eminent, meaning that there is a massive amount of ambient hope in the area, making their presence minimal this year. Prompt 3 is not available, as the Tethers seem to similarly be faded away for the same reasons.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Alien Pthumerian with three arms]
[Image Two: Ivy Covered Door]

Prompt Two
[Image One: White glowing stag in forest]
[Image Two: Cliff's edge in fog]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Ruined City in a state of decay]
[Image Two: Humanoid figure covered in tentacles]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

CHOICE IS A GIFT WORTH MORE THAN GOLD

WHEN: April 8-31
WHERE: Anywhere, along with a vision of the Outposst
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mention of Blood Rituals.

---

[Excerpt From History of Blood Crazed Zealots: Chapter 21 On the Tower found in the Lumenarium:]

“It is widely assumed amongst the people of Trench that the Pthumerian known as the Tower is himself bodily the City itself. Past occasions of distress to the Tower have resulted in inconsistencies in the many buildings and districts throughout the city. The Zealots themselves are not the only people who believe this firmly, but are known to have become obsessed with placating and empowering the Tower through the application of blood rituals to transfer life force to the Pthumerian. It is believed that this may be part of why the city has grown to the size that it is, though this is not entirely clear how accurate this is. Nobody in Trench can recall a time when the Tower did not already serve in this capacity, and no Pthumerian is willing to answer questions on the subject.

What is curious about this silence, however, is that nobody knows what the process a Pthumerian or a theoretical half-Pthumerian might use in tying their essence to a community. The ritual is lost to time, and likely to have been a very powerful blood ritual that is a carefully guarded secret of the Pthumerian race. Whispers abound, however, that if a lesser Pthumerian were to seek to bolster a community in the future, it might enable the swifter growth of new territory. Few speak of this possibility, however, because it is feared that to ask for such a thing might invite disaster or displeasure from among the Pthumerians.”

In a hastily scrawled note wedged into the book, an addendum includes the following excerpt.

“The existence of Riteior, and their dominance over a city outside of Trench clearly indicates that the Pthumerians hold a ritual that makes it possible to bond with a community, to create a new body. But, based upon the presence of an outpost crafted in recent years, the question remains whether it is possible to maintain a community without the presence and influence of the Pthumerians.”

Celebrations over the presumed defeat of Riteior are muted. His disappearance is not something clarified for certain, and many people in Trench are unwilling to risk the assumption that he is gone until it is proven for a length of time. However, the city remains in a state of relative peace. Fewer monsters are seen, and blood corruption seems to have lessened significantly throughout the month. Trenchies throughout the Willful Machine offer pastries for free, all made in the shape of little moths “To honor Argonaut,” though the clever will sense that there seems to be a air of quiet hope that floods the city. It is during this time of peace that you are visited by a Visitor.

The three armed Pthumerian floats just off of the ground. People of Trench bow at the sight of them and excuse themselves reverently. It does not react to anyone except those to whom it is addressing. “Greetings. I am Hali, Child of Bauphomette. I present a proposal.” There is a definite sense of power that flows through you as they speak, their androgynous and emotionally detached voice echoing more in your mind than your ears and you are sure that only those that are being addressed can hear it. Hali's proposal does not come in words, but rather a pair of visions that you are allowed to experience as long as you choose, to be certain of the nature of what is being offered. Both of these visions are of the Outpost outside of the walls of Trench.

The First Vision: You look out from a tower upon the Outpost. The retaining walls, covered in blood wards that conceal the community from the outside world, stand strong and the interior of the structure teems with people of Trench, all of them dressed in bright arrays of color, conducting commerce and trade. Only one new structure has been included in the Outpost itself, a small shrine and temple with a symbol on its gate not unlike the one on Hali's face. It stands between the Barracks and Keep, and Disciples offer bundles of incense from within. What is more outstanding about the sight is seen when you turn to look beyond the walls. You see the forest cleared in all directions, and a second wall constructed a mile away, surrounding what appears to be bustling farmland as far as the eye can see. In the distance, you can see a second barracks, positioned in the middle of the territory, and small stands of communities, the Outpost clearly growing. Behind you, Hali floats, bowing to you once.

You know the truth of the vision. Hali is offering to be bound to an object and using the outpost as an example of what is possible. Bound to this object and placed within a community, be it the Outpost or another one, its presence will make that community will become more secure from the outside dangers and blood corruption, growing and flourishing as a light in the darkness and a hope of new growth.

The Second Vision: You see the Outpost again. There are few Trenchies within the city, all of the dressed in dark and muted hues. No outside farms are visible and the woods are as terrifying and treacherous as ever. The Outpost remains strong, but you can see that it struggles to maintain its population. Racks of mushrooms and vegetables grow all along the inside walls of the walls, enough to keep people going though it is a harder life. You feel, however, that there is something very cold and very alone about this place. You look up and you can barely see it. A translucent bubble surrounds the walls of the structure, completely sealing it off and so long as you are here, you realize what it is that you can feel is lacking. You cannot see the moon. When you look down the wall, you see Hali again.

They bow once more, from beyond the nearly invisible barrier, and their offer is once more clear. Hali knows a way to seal a location outside of Trench forever apart from the influence of the Pthumerians, even the Moon Presence. Again, it uses the Outpost as an example because it is a place where the Sleepers have gone to great lengths to be free. Life in such a place will be hard, always hard. Even if it grows beyond its walls, it will be a slow, methodical battle without a Pthumerian's support. However, that place would be forever free of that influence. It would cost Hali dearly, but they seem genuinely willing to give that.

“You deserve a choice, for what you have done for my people. You will have it.” And you feel that you have a definite choice in this moment.

FAQ:
1. This is an IC Vote, 1 Vote per character in the Plot Thread Below.
2. You may play out vision scenes in both versions using the Outpost as an example with other characters. Nobody is in danger within these visions.
3. The options are straightforward: Option One, Hali binds to an object that may be placed in another location. Once bound to that location, Hali will empower it as the Tower does Trench, to enable a new and thriving community with Pthumerian and Trench assistance. Option Two, Hali will reveal a ritual that will create an object that may be placed in another location. Once this is done, no Pthumerian will be able to enter, curse or otherwise intervene in that location. Initially that area would be a region about the size of the current Outpost, and could be increased with a ritual annually, though the process would be very slow and ultimately limited in scope. Doing so would drain Hali of most of their power to create, and so they would enter into seclusion afterwards for a long time.
4. Both options are a positive ending. The Location will remain largely unchained in the immediate future. It is simply a choice between prosperity and protection at the cost of Pthumerian influence versus a difficult, hard and threatened life free of Pthumerian Influence. Neither ending comes with strings attached. This location does NOT need to be the Outpost, but it CAN be the Outpost.
5. If asked why, Hali will appear briefly uncomfortable. It will repeat. “You deserve a choice. You have not had one. I would give you one.”
6. An OOC discussion will be available on where players might be interested in this "New Location" being installed. The Vote is only for the form it will take. Options include Riteior's City, the Outpost or an entirely new location. The Vote this month will decide "What" is being done. A future vote will occur in May on Where it occurs.
7. Hali has no opinion on which characters should choose. If Trenchies are contacted, they are shocked at the possibility of the offer, and they cannot collectively come to a conclusion on what should be done (Though Disciples clearly favor letting Hali bind himself, while Arcane Scholars find the idea of a separated space fascinating.). No Pthumerian will even acknowledge the question, though Bauphomette (if found to inquire) will be seen smirking. Do they look proud?

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

TRUST AND ITS PERILS

WHEN: Anytime in April
WHERE: The hinterlands outside of Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Light Body Horror, Monsters, Possible Death, Isolation

---

In all of the time that you've been in Trench, deer have been one of the constants, the only true protectors. You've seen effigies of them, statues and the like. Someone might have had one as an omen, but somehow you always knew deep down it was an omen, not a “real deer.” People venerate them, and items that are carved from deer antlers seem to last forever, powered by some magic that nobody can describe. Deer are the protectors of Trench, and you can trust them. As important as they are to the community, that fact is almost an importance to the point of reverence.

So, when you are out and enjoying the remarkably pleasant weather that's in town, perhaps you feel the urge to visit the surrounding countryside. Monster sightings are low, so there's no reason to hold yourself back from a little exploring. In fact, by mid-month you see what almost looks like a translucent dome around the city glimmer into life and then fade, and with it you feel an almost unnatural wanderlust. The people of Trench have reached an outpost, have found the city of Riteior. Why not wander a little? Nothing's holding you back, right?

That's when you see one.

The creature is unmistakable when you see it the first time. Albino and pale, with dogwood branches instead of proper antlers, the pink blossoms standing in stark contrast to the elegant appearance of the creature's white fur. It barely seems to notice you at first, but eventually your eyes meet. It's nothing more than a casual glance, but it starts to dart off. The pace is an easy lope, not a startled and fleeing dart. You can still see it in the distance. It's a deer. Deer are the protectors of Trench, the preservers of the dream. Hell, if you were in the nightmare you used to be a deer. Kind of. Why not trust it? And, if you follow the creature, at first everything seems fine. No monsters trouble you at all. The path you take seems completely safe, but gradually the real danger begins to come into focus.

You are lost. You are hopelessly lost, and at some point, the deer simply disappears. The moment that it is gone from sight, you have nothing that you can easily rely on for directions that is not on your person. If you're fortunate enough to have a compass of some kind, especially a magic one you've acquired in your travels, you might eventually get back but with the setting of the sun, you can tell you've been traveling for hours. The woods this far out are no longer safe. There are howls of monsters and snarls of beasts in the distance. Nothing has sought you out, not yet anyway, but the undergrowth snaps loudly under your feet to your ears. It is getting dark and light might attract attention, but in the darkness you can feel the lack of sureness in the ground. Worse, you hear the faint sounds of rushing water nearby. There's a waterfall somewhere, which means there's also a cliff. Do you dare try and remain in the darkness, alone? Does someone find you in the midst of your distress? Why did the deer lead you into the middle of nowhere like this?

A short time after you start moving again, you will find your answers at least. You feel something odd against your boot, and looking down you see them. Bones. Deer bones. A deer, long ago, died in this place and by the fact that you see an arrow sticking out of its skull, its killer was a mortal Sleeper. What you do at this point is up to you. In the wilderness, demonic wildlife abound, each of them hungry and territorial by nature. They are dangerous, feral and powerful in a fight, but they can be avoided or defeated even if they almost seem to be trying to herd people that they find in one direction. The growing rush warns of the danger as much as anything, the creatures intent on sending any sleepers they attack either to their death over the cliff's face in the dark or at the end of their claws!

Should an effort be made to try and put the deer's spirit to rest, it is not easy, and there is no clear solution. Prayers, magic, blood rituals, a proper burial, all of these are ideas. However, you are in uncharted territory and perhaps you will put it at peace, or perhaps the creature will continue to haunt this place. You cannot say for sure. However, any effort to give peace to the long dead creature does at least seem to come with the benefit that no monsters draw near until sunrise, giving at least daylight to try and escape. You just have to survive in this place. Alone. Only the sounds of the wild will accompany you.

FAQ: 1. If asked afterwards about the white deer, it takes a while, but some of the oldest Trenchies recall stories of an old wive's tale, that if you see a white deer in the woods at night, it was a sign of eminent death. However, none of seen such a thing in years.
2. It is not possible to know for sure if the deer's spirit is put to rest if you attempt. It does not make contact a second time. However, anyone who puts it to rest is not harassed by it a second time.
3. To head off a question that is likely, it is possible for those with powers to communicate with monstrous beasts in the woods. They are feral to the point of madness, but can be cowed to submission if you have power to do so. Though they will not enter the city of Trench, it is possible to maintain a connection (again, if your character has the power to do so) and encounter ONE such creature from this event in the future.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

FROM HELL'S HEART I STAB AT THEE

WHEN: Any time in April
WHERE: Riteior's City for one part, the Salt Lake for the other
CONTENT WARNINGS: Induced Madness, Violent Tendencies, Blood, Hallucinations, Beasthood

---

The spirit of exploration is upon all in Trench. A fog seems to be lifted from this point onward, and nothing holds people back from the urge to explore, other than of course the possibility of monsters and beastly creatures trying to eat you. But, this is Trench. When has that ever stopped you? On the eighth of April, the reason for this newfound freedom becomes far clearer. In the distance, along the direction towards the far-flung city of Riteior, a great and colossal light can be seen. There is a roar of impotent, unbridled and incomprehensible rage that flows outwards. It washes over an unseen barrier in Trench, causing the air to shimmer, to hold and then to fade back to normal. Seconds later, there is another sound, like breaking and shattering glass. Everything shudders. Your soul shudders. Reality shudders. And then there is silence, and you feel an absolute sense of peace descend upon you and you know the truth. A great evil has been sealed away, hopefully never to return again.

For some in Trench, this is occasion to celebrate. The partying is muted. Pthumerians are recovered, but the scars of their disease are still felt. However, a bonfire is held before the salt lake on the week of the 15th. Food and fellowship are had. Tents are set up, and no monsters are seen anywhere around the healing waters. The drinks flow, and the refreshments are plentiful. Even better is the fact that the people of Trench seem to have gotten the idea that sometimes Sleepers don't like something being slipped into the food and drink. There is absolutely nothing whatsoever wrong with the food. No additives. The only strangeness that may be experienced is that, if you stare long into the fire with someone, you may be treated to visions of your home, of your past similar to the events of Wonderkind, though always nostalgic and pleasant ones.

However, that's far from the only thing going on. The moment that Riteior is defeated, a call goes up among the Hunters of the City to retake the city of Riteior for Trench. Intrepid souls, particularly Sleepers, are invited to seek out and conquest the silent city (Details of the city are found here) as it has no sleepers or population within it. The goal of this journey is to get a Lantern Location or two established within, with the intent of that serving as a bulwark to eventually re-establish the community and draw a new Pthumerian to bind themselves to it. The journey is a week long without technological or magical flight, but other than the possibility of feral wildlife, it is a relatively peaceful, even boring one. It's when you reach the city that everything begins to go wrong.

The first thing you will notice in the city is that there are no longer any whispers from unseen corners. Additionally, the portal to the other Trench is closed, leaving only a desolate, crumbling ruin where Riteior's church once stood. You are truly alone in this place. It seems fine, if quiet, and setting down a Lantern Location is deceptively easy (provided you have one, perhaps through holding onto it, or the Moss King's games last month, or even bargaining for one with the Hunters of Trench in return for service). However, within an hour of entering the city, you know something is wrong. You begin to feel sick to your stomach and paranoia starts to set in. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see blood starting to drip down the walls as far as the eye can see. The world shudders around you, and waves of nausea collect. Even worse, however, is that you can practically feel your skin crawl as the symptoms of corruption start to settle in and you taste copper on your tongue, almost like there is blood on the air. That is because there is. Riteior's Blood.

His last laugh, and his last act of vengeance, Riteior's blood drained into the ground of the city that he was part of. Sealed away, he can do nothing more, but some Pthumerian blood is far too potent for mortal minds to deal with. Corruption leeches into anyone who remains in the city during this month at an alarming rate, rising from stage to stage over the course of hours. No amount of incense can stop it. Salt water blessed by the moon and Moon Drops are temporary fixes, but the symptoms simply resume. With corruption, madness and beasthood threaten to disrupt the proceedings, as you the conqueror are beset by an urge to fight and to kill. Riteior's Blood will fade soon, but to those so bold as to explore to the very prison of a god, a toll will be paid.

FAQ: 1. Corruption and Beasthood are very rare in the Outpost and Trench at this time, and with low monster presence, business and celebrations occur with almost unusual levels of peace. It is a time of brief reprieve in the city of Trench. 2. The primary threat here is corruption, and that only applies within the boundary of Riteior's City. Anyone who remains for an hour will begin to experience the first stages of corruption, and within 3 hours they will reach the point of full beasthood. Though this can be cured through the usual methods, the corruptive Pthumerian Blood will continue to be a problem until they leave the city and get it cleansed elsewhere.
3. Nothing can prevent this from happening if you are in the city of Riteior. The longer you remain, the more corruption you experience. Exploring deeper to decipher the cause of problems or helping to set up bulwarks and defenses only exposes you to danger as long as you remain.
4. Beast-transformed Trench Hunters can be faced and may take whatever monstrous form you wish.
5. Death is obviously possible in this event.
6. Riteior's blood will fade away and lose its potency within a month. As the next lunar cycle of Trench starts and the Wild Moon ends, his influence will be felt no more in this world. This process can't be sped up, but spiritually aware characters may realize that the effect is temporary and fading.
7. Lantern Locations may now be set up in Riteior's Former City.
8. In the future, though not immediate future, a Lesser Pthumerian will likely take over this city from Riteior's influence.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

Hali (OTA)

[hali]

The figure floats before you, solemn, serene. It is difficult to determine from his expression or the alien nature of his features what emotions he appears to have. However, he seems to patiently remain, attendant to those who might have questions.

(OOC Due to time constraints, we will only promise three replies per character, though you might get a couple more if there's time. This post is available so that characters may ask Hali direct questions ICly if they wish.)

[shiro2hero]

"I'll keep this brief."

Thanks Shiro. There was a lot to unpack there. So much that it's going to take a while to comb through it, think it over. But - one very important thing sticks out.

"Can we use your ritual, or a similar one, to keep one Pthumerian out of Trench?" We all know who he's talking about. "Or is this an all-or-nothing ritual?"

[likethelight]

[ To be honest it takes Allen a moment to respond, weight shifted back slightly onto his heel even if his expression is as thoughtful as it is conflicted. His brows draw together slightly before he presses his lips together and seems to make up his mind. ]

...what does it mean, binding yourself to a place in order to protect it? [ It's a gentle sort of question, with quiet but serious intent.

Not in accusation, though his tone isn't not skeptical... but what seems like concern. ]

Isn't there always a price to something like that?

[pacificates]

"You want to help. You want to give a choice. A gift." Cole's voice is quiet. He is some other, alien thing. A Spirit amongst the world. Stepped from beyond the Fade, and stayed. He came to help, too. And here is a gift, of two options. Bound and bonded, to remain and rally. A place to thrive. Or... damaged, drained, drawn to slumber for an age. A place to hide.

It is not an easy choice. To surrender oneself to others. And binding is... a heavy subject to approach.

"... Will it... make you happy to be bound?"

[unsheathedfromreality]

"Why now?"

Illarion had, of course, come with a gift. It is his way, in treating gods, whether or not the Pthumerians esteemed themselves so. He'd offered the stylized map of Trench's roads--choice reified, from a certain point of view--without undue ceremony before asking his questions.

"You have certainly seen other Sleepers avid to escape your cousins. Why offer a choice now?"

[tempredmental]

"So... This really is all or nothing, huh?" Keith looked concerned. "Like... either all of you are with us, or we're just completely on our own."

Sure, Keith could happily do without a few of the Pthumerians in his life, but... all of them? Some of them were kind of helpful at times. It was a tough call.

frisk | undertale

[stilljustyou]

I. choice

( Frisk doesn't think it's ever been quite this peaceful here. Dangers are always lurking everywhere, but that feels like such has been there life since they had first started their adventure at home. It's why they can't remember the last time they didn't have some sort of scrape or bruise or the last time they weren't fighting to stay alive.

Perhaps that's why such peaceful times almost feels unsettling to them, even at such a young age – no, perhaps if they were more normal for a child their age, they'd feel even more on guard than they feel now. Though, they've always been rather odd. It's why they don't seem to tense up or hesitate to look up at Hali when they approach them, listening carefully to their words.

They don't understand – there's a lot about the Trench that still remains a mystery to this day. Still, they take the time to consider their words and visions regardless of that – eyebrows raising and taking a step back when they're finished. It's not the first time they've seen visions, but it's a surreal experience every time all the same. )

… Everyone here should have the chance to be happy.

( They know that others think that Pthumeriuans aren't to be trusted – but this is their home, just like so many others who now resided in the Trench. )

II. trust

( Frisk doesn't hesitate to follow the white deer. Childlike innocence and curiosity is more than enough to make them think that the deer is trying to show them something. However, it doesn't take long for them to lose sight of the deer and realize that they are very much lost.

Such things don't seem to be enough to deter them from attempting to find their way back out of the strange maze-like placed that they've wandered into. They look around, searching for any sign of anything that might help them leave safely.

However, they step a nearby branch, and the sound is much too loud in the quiet of their surroundings. They hear the sound of footsteps nearby, a low growl.

And they can't help but freeze up before beginning to run the other way. If someone else is lost with them, it won't take long for them to find a small child running in their direction. )

III. wildcard

( Feel free to PM me or plot with me on plurk. )

Choice

[onerthes]

I knew I liked you for a reason.

[The voice came from the old purple-haired woman they'd met in the past. Vira-Lorr watched as Hali was moving on to speak with others. They'd have time to answer his question eventually. For now, she rested a hand on Frisk's shoulder gently and smiled over at them.]

You're right. Everyone should have a chance to be happy. Pity some don't take it. But, who were you thinking of there?

choice

[eudaimonikos]

Yeah...yeah. Hard to know how to get there, though. Especially with Pthumerian stuff.

[it's possible he is still not over the julia thing and it has been hundreds of years!]

choice

[strongroots]

[ Holy crap we're just seeing visions and shit now? Okay.

You'd think a guy would get used to this by half a year, but nope, Robby's still reeling some from the whole experience. That when he hears what Frisk says, his helpful contribution is: ]

--Who should be happy?

[ Sorry, he'll catch up with reality in a second. ]

ii

[tealeafs]

[ See, usually Chizuru wouldn't just have gotten lost out here. She's way too careful a person to be impulsive enough to suddenly go follow something.

.. except she didn't see the deer first. No, she just saw Frisk chasing after the deer, and that was enough to get Chizuru worried enough to start impulsively giving chase. She won't necessarily chase anything mysterious, but-- a child running out into the middle of nowhere by themselves? It's way too worrying, Chizuru can't let that happen. Especially since she can't see anyone else around, so it means she has to be the responsible adult here and follow them.

But once she's actually out there, it's like the deer is nowhere to be seen anymore. She can't even find Frisk. Chizuru looks around, frantically worrying about how she managed to lose sight of the child, only to then suddenly find the exact child she was worrying about while getting lost herself running straight at her. ]

F-Frisk..?!

[ Sure, there's relief in having found them, but.. uh, the fact that they're running isn't necessarily a good sign, unless that's how they think they can find civilisation again.. ]

Choice

[iaiafhtagn]

Mm, yes everyone should be allowed to enjoy their own happiness.

[She rocked on her heels as she quietly replied back in kind. It should be really simple! But it usually isn't.]

But sometimes one person being happy will lead to someone else being unhappy... um, but what do you think of it. What we were just shown?

cole | dragon age: inquisition

[pacificates]

❥ i walk underneath the trees | trust and its perils
note: cole is here to help the deer with a funerary ritual, he doesn't know them well, but if happy to follow along with another character's guidance

[ The woods are quiet. The air is sweet with Spring. The trees don't talk. He likes it here, the ground beneath his feet feels less full. Of course there is still blood, but here it is the blood spilled by wild creatures. Sharp teeth, hungry. Small prey caught, devoured. And the beasts are far from here. It irritates him less. It is, if anything, a pleasant afternoon.

He thinks of the sheltered, leafy paths of the Emerald Graves. Ancient resting places, each tree a person. The stillness. He misses the others.

And soon enough, the white deer is upon them, stood and waiting before it turns to walk away. ]

An old tale, tradition and belief. Half-forgotten. They never saw, they stopped believing. The pale deer in the dark, silence forever. [ Not entirely comforting. It isn't even sunset yet. ] It... wants to show us something. It needs help.

❥ i was calling | from heart’s hell i stab at thee
note: characters are free to heed or ignore Cole’s pleas, depending on your plans! These threads will likely be short, as Cole will not want to dwell in this place. he will do his best to warn characters before leaving to warn someone else, or just getting out of the city entirely.

[ It isn’t safe. He doesn’t want to be here. But he needs to be. He has to. He feels it long before the others do, too sensitive to the magic of this place. Riteior’s magic is still here, working its ways. They can’t be here. None of them can be here. The silence is a deception. They can't hear it, but he can. There is a song still being sung. He is sealed but not truly silenced.

He flits across the city. Appearing out of thin air. Nothing one moment, a tall and painfully thin man in strange, ragged clothes the next. Even with the blades strapped to his back, he'll raise his hands in a defensive gesture. Hunters, Sleepers. He appeals to them all. Some look visibly disturbed by him, some Hunters try to shunt him away — not wanting their victory of reclaiming the city to be soured by some mad ramblings.

But the Spirit persists. Moving to the next person with haste. He can't dwell here long, either. ]

He whispers from beneath the earth. Thick beneath my feet, saturated. Sleep, but not slumber. He laughs. [ He’ll storm up to people, anyone he can find, getting close into their faces. There’s urgency in him. Pleading, imploring. ] You need to go. You can’t be here.

❥ you are a memory | wonderkind
cw: fantasy horror pictures of canon demons in links, ft. body horror, teeth horror, arachnids. | limiting this prompt to two people

A yawning maw in the heavens. The air splits. They come.

[ The sight of the portals is not unfamiliar. But there are no sharp green tears above them, blinding light beyond the seams. These are no rifts. But they open anyway, and the sight of the creatures that crawl and clamber through makes Cole audibly gasp. No, not them. Not here.

They come. Demons from the Fade. Spirits twisted from their original purpose, ripped through, the shock of it enough to warp them into something else. Some are faceless creatures, nothing but rows of teeth beneath their shrouded cloaks, others are appear as creatures made from fire, slow-moving lava given form to scorch the land they move upon, and some come writhing and twitching — strange creatures of both human and arachnid appearance, too many arms, too many legs. ]

They can't be here. [ Their coming is not a welcome sight. But he draws his blades from his back, donned in leather armour. ] You won't hurt me—! You won't hurt anyone—!

[ He'll turn to whoever's near to join the fight. ]

Demons—! We have to kill them—!

❥ wildcard / info
wildcards fine with plotting, hmu! | please consider using this page re: cole's abilities and what comes with interacting with him. | plotting comment is here
contact: heolstor / heolstor#5725 for questions/plotting

❥ you are a memory | wonderkind

[unphase]

[Tinya was going to pass the young man by, but then he said what he did about the air splitting and she can feel her coldblood turn into ice water. Another rift? Here? It couldn't be.

She'd been helpless to save anyone the first time. This time she'd be ready to do whatever it took to keep people safe. And at his gasp, she steeled herself, her usual bright and warm blue eyes razor sharp and anticipatory.

And what she sees is unlike anything she's ever seen before. Not even in the other galaxy, vicious creatures created by a once friend.

Tinya's pleased to see that the young man is armed. But she can't depend upon her phasing, not here. Here, though, she has a wealth of power to choose from and fire rings her hands]

I'm with you. We won't let them hurt anyone.

I was calling

[imaglyphwitch]

[Whoa. Who was this guy?

He looked intense. Well intentioned, sure, and there was certainly urgency in what he was saying. She'd been starting to get a major vibe of creepy crawlies herself, and was trying to cope, and this did nothing to alleviate her fears].

Are you...talking about Riteior?

Nara'a Sunvara | Final Fantasy XIV

[aetherweaver]

Wonderkind [cw: monsters, possible canon spoilers]

He's terrified by the sight at first. The streaming meteors bring back memories of a time he'd rather not recall, along with the memory of someone else's memory.

"Its gaze turns skyward, and fiery rain falls from the heavens... once the fear has taken root, it cannot be expunged..."

He heads out to follow the meteors, watching them fall... and then they open. And he stares as he recognizes a vista of home. He realizes that he's crying - he's missed home so much. But the portals are open, and occasionally he spots someone he knows... or a beast he knows.

Would you like to join him in a conversation? Or help him slay something that might require more than one person to fight it?


Trust [cw: getting lost, possible violence]

Nara'a is used to be in the woods. He's comfortable there, and it's nice to wander. Whether he's alone or with a friend, he's more than happy to be out in the wilds. He's pretty good at finding his way back... he should be fine, right? Right.

But the appearance of a deer startles him. He's gotten used to seeing the images around town, though he hasn't seen one in person. But it's a prey animal, isn't it? It seems to be... guiding him? It's definitely not afraid, so he keeps going. ... And then it hits him - he hasn't been paying attention to the path. He hasn't been marking his trail. He is lost. Shit.

He stumbles forward, trying to find a path or some way back when he comes across it. A skeleton - one he almost doesn't recognize it at first but... no, it's a deer. Was that...

He needs to figure out what to do. The monsters are howling and drawing closer, and he can only fight so many for so long.


From Hell's Heart I Stab at Thee [cw: possible canon spoilers, corruption, violence]

Nara'a is up for a party more than most people know. He doesn't get too tipsy, but he's pleasantly warm and willing to cuddle up with someone in front of the fire. It's nice to be with someone... and the sight of the fire is bringing back memories. Good ones, ones shared with friends, but still memories.

That said when the call goes up to take the city he's eager to respond. It's not like he has steady work that he has to duck out of, so it's not hard to attach himself to the group. He keeps up his energetic attitude all the while there, happy to be out on the road again.

It's when they get there that something feels... wrong. It's too quiet - it was quiet before, but now something feels... severely wrong. It feels... dead. He's on guard, and he's almost not surprised when he starts feeling sick. Everything seems to make him uneasy in both body and mind, and he can smell it. The blood. It's got to be -

He starts trying to round people up, get them out of the city. He can see his skin growing lighter and his claws growing longer. They have to leave, before they kill each other.


Wildcard

[Got another idea? Grab me on Discord (Matt#6266), Plurk (atrypical), PM me, or comment my plotting comment here!]

trust

[tealeafs]

Fortunately it seems that Nara'a isn't alone out here.

Unfortunately it seems that the other person lost out here is Chizuru. She wouldn't normally ever even go into these woods, but.. something about the deer drew her in, leaving her unable to not follow the creature out here. Even though she lost sight of it, and even though - worse yet - she realises she has absolutely no idea where she is.

Which is becoming increasingly more of a problem with all those sounds in the distance. It has the girl quickening her pace, hoping to find some indication of a path, or anything else that could lead her back to the city.

She comes across none of that, but at least she does spot a familiar face in the distance. Chizuru doesn't even bother to question whether or not it's real or just an illusion. She just trusts that it's the real Nara'a - or maybe just really wants it to be him, so she's not alone and scared - and runs right at him.

"H-- Here! I.." Hold on, she's breathing so hard between words from all the running she's done. "I-I'm over here too..!"

Cho Hakkai | Paleblood | OTA

[knowsvinewhip]

🌿 CELEBRATORY PAUSE
(1) Party
[It's quite the celebration to witness. It seems like a fairly laid-back one, as far as Hakkai has ever seen. But there's nothing wrong with that. And the food and drink are plentiful. If he were less of a wallflower, this would probably be a lot more enjoyable.]

[He can be found lingering on the fringes of the celebration, politely conversing with anyone who happens to encounter him. Someone has handed him a bottle of something potent, and he'll occasionally sip from it while he speaks. That drink... smells like furniture polish...]

(2) Fire
[Did you really think blood was the only thing red-]

I suppose not... [It's much later in the party when he's seated himself near a fire. Mostly because of the chill in the air - the awful drink from before replaced with something in a clay mug that smells far more herbal and pleasant. And his eyes are absolutely fixed on the fire.]

[If you look closer, there are... people there. Some in a pair, and one possibly familiar (to some) lanky redhead. If they're not arguing, the older two are just calmly smoking. It's... weird that this is making Hakkai just quietly watch.]

[Or maybe not. But either way, his attention is entirely focused on the fire. If you want to interrupt.]


🌿 FROM HELL'S HEART
(1) Exploration
[Well, frankly, someone needed to come along in case of injury. With how gung-ho everyone was to pack off to this abandoned city, the likelihood of medical supplies being packed as well is... low. In his humble opinion.]

[Once they reach the gates, he'll step forward to any group who might need another member-]

If you need another, I'm willing. [And determined. No matter what horrors lurk inside, he's sure it can't be anything too bad. Considering what all he's seen before. Famous last words, har har.]


(2) Hunt | cw; violence, mild body horror
[That... was a man at some point. Of that, he's certain. But now, it looks like some sort of slavering, howling creature. Its teeth are too large for its face, warping and twisting the whole skull. Limbs seem disjointed, loose, like the bones have shifted too much under the skin. It moves with a jerky, stuttering step, empty eyes focused on the slender man in the street. On anyone he happens to be exploring with.]

This is problematic.

[To say the least. But he's already stepped up, shifted his hands into a defensive position. If you look at his hands (but why would you), there's something... different there. Fingernails look a bit too long. Dark marks splotched on the backs of his palms.] Perhaps if we come at it from two different sides - it shouldn't be able to come at us both.


(3) Corrupt
[it can't be anything too bad]

[Oh, but it is. It is. Maybe it's the calm of Paleblood April that let him get this far. But at some point, the paranoia, the fear, it grew too much to hold in. And he'd bolted. One glance down at his hands had shown something horrific. What looked like vine tattoos laced around his hands, his fingers.]

[Hakkai has found some corner to duck into. His hands fly to one ear, to the little silver cuffs still in their place. But no - no that doesn't make sense. This shouldn't be happening. He yanks his sleeves up, and his fingers leave long scratches in their wake. More vines snake their way up his arms.]

[This can't be happening.]

[You're not like Goku, Hakkai - but he hasn't removed his limiters once. Not since he'd washed up here. So how - ]

[His head snaps up, to see who may have followed. One of his eyes... it looks far more yellow than the other. But both look an unnatural mix of startled and angry...]

[uh oh.]

(2) Hunt | cw; violence, mild body horror

[thisislife]

[oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Lexi said she was ready. that she'd mastered her Darkblood powers and she had. her first impulse is to plunge the creatures into the worst place she can think of--high school--in the hopes that it confuses them enough so that the stranger and her can make them stop, but she's prepared to use her telekinesis to lift them and slam them back into the ground, hopefully breaking bones and bodies until they're easily beaten]

Hi! Outta curiosity, which blood type are you?

((OOC: permission to use either of the options--reality warping or telekinesis--on the beings?))

Luz Noceda | The Owl House

[imaglyphwitch]

Trust

Luz had decided to venture out, and why not? She'd been staying at the house for a bit, caring for the Fathiers and having some quality time with Ahiru and Luca, all the while recovering from Riteior's rebounded attack. The ritual had even worked! So Luz though some well earned riding with Owlbert was necessary, and had taken to a night ride, soaring through the skies and feeling like she was slowly replenishing from everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when she saw the Albino deer.

Luz was a Deerington survivor, so she knew what deer usually meant. Something strange and kinda mystical was going to happen, so she'd better pay attention. Luz slowly touched down on where she'd last seen the deer and tried to see if she could spot it again, not realizing she was pretty sure she hadn't seen this forest before. The more she looked, the more she started to feel like something was wrong, and even Owlbert detransformed, sticking by Luz to give her a little courage.

Which was good, because once Luz spied the bones, her heart was in her mouth.

The bones crunching under her feet were unnerving, and Luz guessed it might be some creature, but once she saw the arrow and the deer's head, she gasped. She could see what happened now, and she also figured out it had to be a ghost.

"You poor thing. We have to do something for you! And I will...just as soon as I figure out where I am."

Because there was the sound of water, and she knew she might have to get back on Owlbert again. There was already a low howl, letting her know she was certainly not alone in the forest.

Hell's Heart

Luz had been giving a warning. She should have known better than to come here, and normally she might have stayed away. Riteior had been a powerful being, enough to actually infect her, and it was probably better that she stay out of being anywhere close to him, even if it seemed his influence had been severely diminished.

It was a shame. Season 2 and 3 Luz would have warned her that diminished did not equal dead. Not by a long shot.

And as Luz continued on, she could feel exactly why she'd been warned not to come here. It FELT wrong, like there was some last vestige of malice in the air. Luz had convinced herself she was here because she owed it to her friends who helped with the ritual to come here.

Now she understood that doing that so soon was very much a mistake. Apprehension was mixing with paranoia, and she could feel that it was really only a matter of time before something BAD happened.

Could she turn back? Would anyone blame her?

Wilcard!

[OOC: Always up for just a random meeting of my girl! You can catch her on the staff flying, or her job at the used bookstore with Lexi, or really anywhere else]!

Hell's Heart

[thisislife]

Fortunately (or not), Lexi had the same basic idea. But despite all common sense, she felt the need that she had to prove herself. To herself, if no one else. So she ventured outward.

It didn't take long for her to realize that she'd made an absolute dumbass decision, but she was in too deep now. What was that line she'd remembered from Junior year AP English Lit? 'The only way out is through?'

That was the quote. She was absolutely sure of that and pretty sure it was from Robert Frost. Not that it was any consolation, not out so far and likely so far over her head.

But she heard a snap of a twig from behind her and Lexi whirled around to see who it was. Only to be pleasantly(?) surprised (because now they were both neck deep in trouble and she knew Luz well enough to know she'd go out of her way to protect Lexi and not far enough to protect herself).

"Luz! What are you doing here? Besides, the obvious, I guess," she said with a laugh.

Vira-Lorr | Record of Agarest War | OTA

[onerthes]

1. Wonderkind Powers Activate! Form of... a monster. Great (Previous Month)
Currently? Vira-Lorr was counting her blessing that those blasted moths had decided to have their migrations somewhere else this year. Of course, that did not change the fact that she could see the little motes of light coming down, and knew exactly what they could mean. "Come on, we should probably investigate this. Last thing we need is a zombie outbreak or something worse." She said it to whoever was with her at the time, popping a shell into her ... ok, it was a gunblade. She could admit it now. It was a rapier, but that's basically what it was, a gunblade.

Rounding a corner, she came to a skidding halt and just stared in a mixture of irritation and horror. In the short distance, there was a thing from her own world there, and unsurprisingly it just had to be a monster. She frowned at the sight of it and rolled her eyes. "Not one of these things. I could have gone another ten years of my life without seeing one again." She gestured to her friend as they came around the corner and frowned. "This... is definitely a two person job." But yeah, magic or no magic, she seemed sure she had this.

(OOC: Options -1) A Husward. Great hulking ogre like beasts with white hair, a horn on their head, red skin and popeye-like arms. Very strong, not very bright. 2) Lesser Larvae - Looks like a bipedal crab with horns. Much smarter, less strong and better armored, and don't get caught in those pincers because ow. 3) A Jumbo Cock [Yes, I'm serious. that's its name] - Which looks like basically a Chocobo on Steroids. 4) Any basic set of D&D monsters you want and I'll reskin the names. Record of Agarest War is predictable, but I like to give you options.)

2. Choices to Make (Hali Visions)
She was standing in the midst of the vision, staring at the Outpost quietly. This was the vision of the town, bereft of the touch of the Pthumerians. Seated on the wall, she looked up towards the moonless sky, and sighed before looking down at the people. One hand reached up to curl around her leg and she frowned to herself, as if trying to decide how she felt about what she was seeing.

"I don't know. Do you think they look happy there, free?" she mused, quietly considering what they were seeing there. That seemed, in that moment, to be the most important thing to her to ask. She wasn't asking Hali's opinion, and considering that he was outside of the barrier in the town, he wasn't giving it.

3. Lost in the Woods
Vira-Lorr grunted. Deer were supposed to be nice. As she whipped her head around, she tried to see if anyone she knew was nearby. "Hello? Is anyone there?" she called out, only to be met with a howl in the distance at first. Yeah, she wasn't going to make a whole lot more noise. With any luck, if a friend heard that, they were in the same jam and would have the good sense to make their way over and not make a lot of noise about it.

Looking down at the deer's remains, she frowned and squinted her eye before getting down on a knee. "Let's at least get you buried, little one. Lest this happen to someone else in the future." At least, she assumed that would help. Sure seemed like a good use of her time right then.

4. Bonfire and Reflections
Sitting there, quietly staring into the fire, Vira-Lorr was finally managing to relax. The situation reminded her exactly how much tension she built up in her muscles at times. She was always on edge, because there was always something wrong. Trench was infinitely better than Deerington had been, but the rarity of a true moment of peace was something to be savored.

Sipping her drink, she glanced at whoever had just come over to sit down and managed a small smile. "Come to keep an old lady company by the fire, have we?" she teased.

Wildcard)

Bonfire and Reflections

[thunderingcourage]

"As long as you don't mind someone tall standing around and taking up space."

Makoto came over with her own drink before smoothing out her dress and taking a seat next to Vira-Lorr. She wasn't really sure what was the bonfire was for, but with everything that had been going on lately it was hard to keep track of it as well. The plants had been a huge issue, then there was the personal matters and fears that had been addressed, and a few missions helping others to get here and there. For the moment Makoto was glad to just have a moment to sit and relax, let out a breath without having to worry about an enemy attacking, or someone leaving, or some mission to find an orb somewhere.

Mayerling | Vampire Hunter D

[whowillmourn]

Meet the Parents
⟿ Wonderkind

That night, Mayerling wakes, and much is strange. The city celebrates Riteior's departure. Others argue and concern themselves with a half-Pthumerian's offer. Portals open overhead, unusual scents and sounds washing over him. That is all as it has been. Even the portals from home, seeing as there has been monsters. Those active during the day, he must leave to others. At night?

Mayerling prepares to meet Sharon or any others who might face them. Instead he finds a nearly forgotten smell wafting down the street. He rushes out of his coffin to the nearest mirror, gets ready at full vampire speed, rushes down to the kitchen to— to, well, he doesn't have anything more than dried blood pellets to offer, but he makes three pretty place settings around the table and rushes around the house tidying anything and everything he can touch because—

"Hello, Johan, dear?" A sweet, silky voice so smooth most humans would melt and offer their necks calls from the door.

He swallows, soothes his nerves, and answers the door, his hand still shaking slightly. It reveals, as every sense told him, his mother and next to her his father. They are vampires, as tall and pale as him. Their clothes are finer and newer. Everything about them has the optimism of people whose civilization hasn't fallen. Mayerling's heart heals and breaks again upon seeing them. He reaches for their hands.

They pull him into a large hug that's tight, even for him.

"Now, introduce us to everyone," his father says. "Your wife, the rest of your household. What friends you have in this quaint town."

Mayerling blinks.

"We can smell her on you," his father says. "Though she seems to be out. Perhaps we could start with your dhampir… companion then?"

He's speechless in a way he hasn't been in thousands of years. No many how many people he introduces them to. For the next couple days, everywhere he goes… he has his parents and introductions to make.

Grounded
⟿ Trust
CW: violence against monsters, gore

When the deer disappears and with it all sense of landmarks and direction in the dark of night, Mayerling worries not. He too is a creature of the night. His cloak spreads around him into the shape of wings, and he springs upward through the trees into the open sky. The moon can lead him open.

That's when the Fire Nation monsters attack. He knew they were close, but his silence through the air is not enough. Multiple flying horned birds fly at him, eager for his blood. Mayerling slices through one. Its two halves fall apart as they go down, dripping blood onto the treetops. Those that remain care not. They attack with great fervor. With moderate reluctance, Mayerling extends his control over one of them and commands it to attack the others. He works in concert, slashing and piercing (his own hands turned to great claws of metal), until the rest are gone.

However, he's on the forest floor by then, constantly pressed down and down away from the free path home. His boot crushes something he recognizes not only as a bone but a pair—tibia and fibula. Mayerling looks down at the bones around him until he sees the deer skull with an arrow piercing it. Violent death of a sacred animal. He crouches with it pressed against his forehead and stays there, in search of its spirit.

Community
⟿ Riteior

The reasons be what they may, Mayerling wants to be where the people are. He wants to be part of the community and to get to know people. He doesn't partake in the food or drink because he's a vampire. There's no point. Spring may have come, but he remembers winter's hardships and leaves food and drink for those who need it. Yet he longs to be part of the crowd, to be someone you sit with, even if you don't talk with him.

He sits next to the campfires, his heart soaring each time someone sits. Yet he doesn't want to overwhelm them or to push too hard. After a little while, he merely asks, "What do you feel about all this?

Wildcard
⟿ Reach out for body swap or other starters!

⟿ Riteior

[unphase]

Tinya had been looking for this man for a while, ever since she'd heard he was a potential partner for a ballet performance. She hadn't wanted to simply show up at his door or in his inbox, each seemed insufferably rude to her, so she was hoping for a more...relaxed set of circumstances.

So when Tinya saw him sitting at the campfire, she took a seat next to him, casting him a slightly shy smile. She was wearing a modest white dress by her standards and on her shoulder rode a little black kitten.

The blue eyes of the kitten matched Tinya's own blue eyes, a little uncertain, but still curious.

"I think you're someone I've been looking for. Someone Sharon told me about."

Peter Graham 👑 Hereditary

[possessum]

CATCHALL

^{I have a catchall for the month with some open WONDERKIND prompts (cultist shenanigans from Peter's homeworld) + space for closed starters for other things.
Please feel free to hmu @ my plot post if you'd like to do something!}

Caitlyn Kiramman | Arcane | Trust & It's Peril

[topside_cupcake]

CW: Allusions to character death, mental instability, hunting humans.

Caitlyn found her feet moving quickly, her ponytail bouncing as she ran through the woods, her rifle slung over her back. She closed her eyes for a moment and just took a deep breath, thinking back to the summers of her youth. The lodges and the woods that she would visit with her mother and father, hunting in the wilder lands outside of Piltover. It was the reason she'd learned to shoot from such a young age, and why she was the expect shot that she was now. She needed this, the open spaces and air, the exact opposite of the dark basement she'd found herself locked in the previous month. The flash of the doors closing behind her bringing Caitlyn to a stop as she rested against a tree for a moment to catch her breath.

It is then that it catches her eyes, the white fur, the cherry blossom antlers, the intense pools of pink and black that stare into her own eyes as if looking through her to something much deeper. As it begins to head further, Caitlyn finds herself following, for no other reason than to possibly see where it came from and if there were any others. Perhaps to speak with it, or just admire the elegance it seemed to naturally hold. It's not until she stumbles over a root and finds herself on the ground that she realizes just how deep she'd ventured. The fact that there was no longer a trail or path that was clearly marked or visible for her to follow back. And the sun was rapidly beginning to set.

"No, no. Stupid, Kiramman, how could you."

Like so much lately she hadn't been thinking, and had chased after something that she didn't fully understand, only to find herself out of her depth. Completely lost and losing everything. Even know as stray strands of hair seemed to fall around her face as her hands pushed back tears of frustration and she made her way up to her feet. Crying wouldn't help, she stood up as she surveyed her surroundings. Taking in the bones that were around, finding the skull with the arrow. It had been killed in a hunt. The question is was it for necessity, or for sport?

We gotta talk. You and me. [...] Somewhere we stay apart but close enough where I can see that pretty face of yours.

The words echoed in her head, and Caitlyn could almost hear Jinx's laugh in the shadows of the trees. At the same time the voice in the basement, Place your bets, hunting the hunter, how long will she last? She had to move, she had to keep going, staying still meant death. So even as the sun set and the shadows stretched out Caitlyn found her feet and wandered through the darkness of the forest. She was alone, completely lost, no one to call out to, no one to rely on. Even now her own Omen could do little more than circle over head, unable to spot a way out.

She might have come out remembering the days when her family would go hunting, but now Caitlyn was pretty sure that she was the one that was being hunted. Her heart racing as each broken stick sounded like a shot, each rustle a chuckle and call of odds.

[threelayers]

One of those broken sticks that sounded almost like a gunshot came at the wrong time. It wasn't Caitlyn's boot that made it, but someone else's. The person in question was very used to keeping quiet, so she hadn't made much noise up until this point, but just as she had thought she'd heard something nearby, she'd gotten just hasty enough to step on a twig. That was a twig, right? yeah, definitely a twig. However, the noise was loud and Neopolitan winced, grabbing for the tree branches nearby with a rustle to pull them out of the way.

She was cautious as she looked out from around the tree to where she'd heard a person wandering the woods. God, but she'd give a lot to kick a deer's butt right now. Hopefully they weren't going to attack her thinking she was a monster.

Sharon Da Silva | Silent Hill

[fogsong]

▌ ▌ ▌ I. WONDERKIND | not tomorrow CW: references to child abuse, sacrificial immolation, long-term hospital stays, canon typical violence in prompt C, monsters

A

[ There is a portal open on the cobbled street leading into Crenshaw— large and wide and shimmering in the darkness as if to draw anyone nearby to it. To peek within would be to look into a dilapidated, twisted hospital room. It's not just aged, it's wrong. The bed is front and center but mostly obscured by thin, rotting medical curtains, stained in shades of red and brown, and cream. There are machines pumping and beeping away despite their obvious wear and tear.

The soft sound of a woman's sobs can be heard echoing out from the portal and if you were to peer around, you'll catch a glimpse of a young nurse, dressed in white and red, her hands pressed to her face and a small child, no older than ten, holding her in what appears to be a gentle embrace.

The girl recognizes someone is peeking in and slowly turns to face the onlooker. She tilts her head curiously and removes herself from the woman, her steps echoing against the grating beneath her feet as she approaches the portal. To some, this child may be familiar. She is dirtied head to toe, her long black hair matted and tangled, and there are black stains at the edges of her lips and on her forehead and long-since-dried tear stains through the dirt on her cheeks.

She presses her grimy hand to the portal as if to press through but she's stuck on the other side. She cannot pass through. A frown touches her lips as she looks at the person before her, turning her head only a little as if listening to someone obscured on the bed behind her. ] It's just a glimpse. [ She returns her dark gaze to you. ] Isn't it?

B

[ It's not long after the portal to the hospital room opens that Sharon finds it. Soul calls to soul. She can feel herself out there, waiting.

When she spots it and the room on the other side, she stops in her tracks, freezing there, breath catching and knotting in her throat. Her hands begin to quiver, her legs feel weak. It's been so long since she's last seen that room, last gazed upon those curtains that had been her whole world for so fucking long. She recognizes the very beginnings of a panic attack and does her best to swallow them down. ]

Sharon. [ The child that isn't really a child calls out to her, recognizing her despite all that she's grown and changed. ] She wants to see you.

C Monster Encounters Include: Pyramid Head, Dead By Daylight Flavor, Asphyxia, or Your Choice of Nasty SH monster (Add it to the subject line, please!)

[ Sharon knows from last year's experience the kinds of monsters that can be drawn in through the portals and takes to patrolling through the districts, almost obsessively. Oftentimes, if she sees someone else out, especially someone she recognizes, she'll ask for them to join her with a "Up for a patrol?" but she's alone more often than not, all tension and tight-jawed.

As the night wears on, she thinks maybe it's a bust; that maybe she's been so wary and riled over nothing; that her gut instinct is wrong. But then she spots it: a portal. Something about it twists her stomach and gets her heart pumping. She can see the rust and feel the call of the Otherworld from here.

She stops in her tracks. ] Things might be about to get rough. [ She tells anyone with her, serious. ] This is what I've been looking for.

▌ ▌ ▌ II. RITEIOR'S CITY | Corruption & Beasthood Information CW: immolation and canon typical violence

A

[ Her first hour in the city is uneventful. She walks down the streets, stopping every now and again to take a photo. She recognizes that some of the Hunters are displaying evidence of corruption but they're Hunters and it's easy enough to write off for the moment. Unbeknownst to her, she is well into the first stage of corruption herself, skin sallow and the bags beneath her eyes a shade of ill violet.

She finally stops before the city hall to sketch it but when someone walks by, she'll speak up: ] Hey, quick question: have you heard any weird voices since you got here? The last time I was here, I couldn't get them out of my head. [ There is a strange, distant quality to her voice. She can't hear them anymore and that feels like it's a good thing. Like Riteior is well and truly done. ]

B

[ Two and a half hours in, Sharon is a walking heater. To get too close is to feel like standing right at the edge of a bonfire, the heat rolling off her in powerful waves. Everything about her feels wrong, her skin has lost its color, taking on an ashen look, and her hair, her eyes, and even her lips have blackened.

She stands before Riteior's church, gazing up at it, face twisted with hatred and disgust. She tilts her head this way and that and then begins to light it on fire with a flick of her wrist, no thought or care to the fact that there might be people inside. ]

▌ ▌ ▌ WILDCARD

Have another idea? Want to do something else? You can hit up my plotting post or PM here or on lobselvith

CLOSED to Mayerling

[fogsong]

▌ ▌ ▌ III. WONDERKIND II ELECTRIC BOOGALOO | waiting for you CW: canon typical violence and monsters

In the current environment, with monsters and beasts emerging from the portals, a normal date is a little out of the question but a monster murder date is definitely on the table. In her usual hunting leathers, Sharon walks in stride with Mayerling, peeking into every portal, big and small, they come across. Most of them are inconsequential, tiny windows into worlds they'll never visit; views of an empty, billowing field in a rainstorm or a dense jungle alive with the sound of insects. Others still show off the glittering lights of a city in the far-off distance.

"My guardian came through last year," she tells him as they stroll, her attention more on their surroundings than him, "My mom and I were attacked by a monster from home. One I wouldn't have been able to...," she trails off, the words weighted. She wouldn't have been able to kill Claudia as she'd been. Even now, she doubts she's strong enough, "Mom tried to take the hit, I panicked, and he heard my call all the way on the other side."

She looks up at him, expression grim, "He saved us both that night and he's been here ever since."

Neopolitan Sustrai | RWBY | OTA (CW Disability issues mentioned in Bodyswap)

[threelayers]

1) Bodyswap
Pesky little golden butterflies... or moths... or whatever. Neo whapped at it, missing just barely a second later before she realized that something was wrong. "What the hell?" she said, and then she froze. Her eyes were big as saucers and she stared at a hand that was ... wrong. It wasn't her hand, and then when she looked up she saw herself there, across from her and the reality settled in. "Oh... fuck me."

So, yeah, this was a thing that was happening. She'd just gotten bodyswapped with someone. Ugh, sometimes this place was the pits, but it could have been a lot worse. She tried to turn on her illusions, only to find that they didn't work and another sigh followed. This was going to be a long day.

(OOC: Neo's vocal chords do not work, so anyone bodyswapped into her body will not be able to talk. And for amusement, I'm going to say her aura is tied to her physical body, meaning that you get to have the illusion powers for the next hour! Good luck being in two places at once if you make a duplicate, schrodinger's body swap partner!)

2) Wonderkind, a.k.a. Who wants to battle a Grimm?
The sight of the portals got a kind of weird reaction from Neopolitan. She grinned. Why did she grin? Well, portals meant fights, which also meant that there might be Grimm to battle and Grimm were actually kind of fun to take on. They weren't really a challenge in her mind, and she always had one thing going for her that very few in Remnant ever did. She normally had a real reign on her emotions.

(You know, as long as she didn't actually get what she wanted finally.)

She was running towards the next one that she'd seen in the distance as she heard a roar up ahead. Motioning to whoever was with her to follow, she was practically gleeful. Rounding the corner, she could see a freaking mammoth of darkness and bone and laughed silently. Quickly, she grabbed her omni and looked back.

You want a challenge?
This'll be fun.

...someone really needed to help this girl find a hobby.

3) Hali
Neopolitan didn't really understand. She did 'get' what was being offered, but she also didn't fully comprehend why she should care which got picked. That was, until she saw the vision of the new city, a blossoming community of farmers spread out over such a wide space.

She was walking out from the city walls, looking around at the various farms, seeing the hunter's station. Her eyes were a little wide. It wasn't as big as Trench, but it seemed like it was almost unbelievable in a way. A home. This far from the shore. Was it something she'd wanted all this time? She looked back at her companion, raising an eyebrow. What did they think?

4) Bonfires and Memories
Neopolitan didn't have a lot of happy memories of home. Under all of the smiles and the appearance of happiness, she was a very unhappy person, and had been for two years, and for most of her childhood. There were only a few periods of happiness and nostalgia, and all of those came with an awkward sort of pain because they could not be reality, not here. Roman had never come to this place.

Still, she was sitting there by the fire even after the first lost memory, sighing a little sadly and remaining right where she was. Even if they were just memories, and even if they were shared with someone? She wanted to see them, to remember, to experience.

(OOC: Memories of she and Emerald, and memories of Roman are available, or one of your character's. Just feel free to sit down.)

Wildcard)
Go for it! I'm good for most things.

4) Bonfires and Memories

[thisislife]

Lexi didn't have many happy memories of home, either. She wanted to say that she did, but her parents being her parents and her sister being her sister, she really didn't. It was too easy to remember the screaming fights in the middle of the night, her sister taking up all of the attention just because she was far prettier than Lexi and because she could.

So any memories of Lexi had would be fairly negative. She didn't want to dwell on it, but she also wasn't aware that seeing visions of home would be possible if she looked into the fire.

"Hi. You said if I had any concerns, I could talk to you, right?"

Creeping Dust | Original | Open

[cynomorpha]

WONDERKIND

[ He recognizes the screaming sound of his world. It doesn't actually take him too much effort to find his own portal. He approaches it with his hands clasped loosely at the small of his back. Even as he is approaching it, the twisted fingers of the spectral are already clawing at its frame. ]

Now, now... [ He chides lazily. ] I'm hardly going to let you through there.

[ The ghosts are not intelligent enough to understand him. They instead pull themselves closer, crowding one another. They are deformed, oozing things. Their plasma scorches the sands on the beach, smoldering with a terrible smell. They scream and salivate. Creeping Dust pays them no mind, even as their wailing and hunger radiates out from them in a sickening wave.

The necromancer procures a small stick that has washed up and uses it to draw a circle in the sand, etching out the runes he wants with effortless precision. He steps into its center, still ignoring the reaching hands and wailing voices.

He draws the second seal in the air with his fingertip. The shape of it crackles to life as lightning, golden and sharp. The mounting electric pressure snaps with a crack as it is completed, and a barrier of ice cuts off the opening of the portal.

The reaching hands remain frozen too, reaching.

Creeping Dust examines the work, ]

Strange results...

TRUST AND PERIL

[ He has settled himself at an outdoor table with a cup of coffee while he whittles away at a wood working project. The plans are set out on the table alongside him, sketched out in charcoal. It appears that he is working on a lantern, but it is the surrounding carvings which are special. Deer. Their intricate horns intertwining with the intricate trees and bushes and grass. It's an elegant design that does not particularly match with his eccentric, and inelegant man. ]

BONFIRE

[ He really dislikes crowds, but he is much too nosy not to come people watch. Besides, if something terrible happens, then he'll be on hand to do something about it. The paranoia has been hard-earned in his world, where something terrible is always peering around the corners.

He listens to people reflect and recollect about the conflict with Riteior for a while, and then he sits by the fire to contemplate his own moodiness. He has tumbled here to the Trench in the middle of his own world's bloody civil war. He wishes he were home and celebrating its end with his people and his brother.

So, of course, the fire treats him to a vision of their childhood home. A simple one-room home with a porch. The humble homes of their village were all perched into the mountainside like so many still birds. He remembers sitting on the porch, legs dangling, while is brother napped at his hip. The mist swirled around his dangling feet. The air smelled strongly of fresh rain and fresh pine.

He watches it for a little while with a frown before he collects himself and throws his drink at it. ]

Aish...

TRUST AND PERIL

[possessum]

( It's nice out, and even Peter's reclusive self feels drawn to get some fresh air and sunshine. Before he knows it, he's wandered quite a ways out, where it's quiet and peaceful.

It isn't long before he spots a familiar figure sitting at a table, and Peter hesitates only a moment before approaching the man he's bumped into a couple of times by now. There's something to him, and to what he knows, that continues to intimidate Peter — and simultaneously draw him in closer. Despite his nerves, it's a willing approach, accompanied with an awkward little lift of his hand in greeting. )

Hey, again. ( His eyes drift to what Creeping Dust is doing, catching sight of the deer carvings, and Peter's eyebrows lift. ) Woah. You made those?