☣️ hellbent | OPEN

[enblightened]

Who: Bigby the Abomination, OPEN
What: Catch-all for November, which includes the Sleeper Farm. Will be specifically marked.
When: November
Where: Various locations to coincide with the event
Notes: Will be continuing TDM threads in this log as well! In addition, if you desire a more specific prompt let me know. Alternatively, please feel encouraged to make your own as well.

Content Warnings: Body horror, violence, mentions of trauma, previous torture and mutilation



☣️ I. OUTSIDER'S RESPITE

[There is much to explore in this new place.

The hamlet of his world had been much smaller, of course. The districts easy to navigate, a bit more life coming to it bit by bit. Here, the Trench feels much more like a true city, and that quite honestly makes him feel uneasy. A place with such a thick population is a high potential for danger to others. He dislikes it, feels his guts wrench; a flash of fear, a flash of excitement, and he grinds his teeth to find his focus.

Calm. Easy. People have been nothing but accepting, and it would be terrible to ruin such kindness thus far. There is no danger, not right this minute, not now.

After a bit of breathing to ease his mind, Bigby lets out a soft huff of air and lets himself go exploring. Despite the warm greeting he'd been given, he still clings to his old clothing; his shroud, tattered and patched a dozen times over, ragged and sad to see, and his trousers no different. The man still has not bothered with shoes, his bare feet against the ground. The rattle of his chains can be heard easily as they still bind around his body to this very moment.

In Lumenwood, he is crouched by one of the many patches of flowers. Despite both of smell of the flowers and the stench of blood, they are beautiful. It has been too long since he's last seen blooms of this kind. There's almost a smile on Bigby's face. Almost.

Most other places are a bit too populated to really help his stress levels, but eventually Bigby makes his way back toward the shores, finding an odd comfort in Sanguine Station. It reminds him of the tavern of the hamlet, and it is much smaller, more quaint here. Not the most adequate place for meditation, but he does take a drink and keep to his own corner.

Truly, though, he can be found walking through most places, taking stock of what feels safe -- and what certainly will not be.]


☣️ II. SLEEPER FARM

[Waking in bondage is not unusual.

Waking in more chains than he remembers ever donning onto himself is another matter.

Should you have the misfortune of sharing a stall with Bigby, he jerks awake, his eyes wide and green. For a moment, he feels blinded with fear, struggling in what he's been shackled with. His heartrate increases, and he breathes uneasily.]

No-- no, I escaped, you wretches! I escaped you all!

[The memories pierce him horribly. A burning brand to his head, searing his skin. The delight his torturers took to him, to make him repent, as if he ever had any say in whether or not he would be cursed, as if he ever wanted to be. Calling him sinner, cackling in his pain, the years he counted!]

It'll have your meat, grind your bones! You know this!


☣️ III. A GIBBOUS MOON

[He feels it. Boiling in his blood, his heart, its instincts howling inside of him.

So he leaves the city as evening starts to roll in. The moon will be strong tonight, and so will it. Something that Bigby needs to prepare for.

Ah, that time of the month? the jester would cackle, as if the joke had never been told before. Somehow, having the matter made light made the burden that easier to carry.

In any case, Bigby leaves, clutching his cloak to himself. When he spots anyone else, he'll mutter:]

Do not be out late. It is a difficult night, and one never knows what lurks out there.

Comments

☣️ TDM threads

[enblightened]

☣️ LYSITHEA

[enblightened]

I would not expect you to be on the front lines, sorceress. Worry not in that regard.

[Which honestly, she looks like if someone breathed on her wrong she'd topple over. Strong as her magic is, the body is frail.]

A fair point. I've no method to contain them, but likely we could procure something from the city, yes?

[notimeforfailure]

[Lysithea thinks briefly before nodding.]

Let's visit the School of Mutter. Dangerous research is essentially their specialty. I'm sure I've visited laboratories before with all sorts of bizarre specimens scuttling around.

Barring that, the hunters may have some suggestions, though I suspect they aren't used to containing targets quite this diminutive.

We'll use the Lamp Friends.

...What is your name, by the way?

[enblightened]

That seems wise. I've no doubt they will come with some sort of conclusion as to our next step. It... admittedly has been awhile since I've last studied, so the school might be our best decision.

[He gives as polite of a bow of his head as he can.]

Bigby. There was a time in which I was a scientist. Those days are far behind me, I fear.

And you?

☣️ FERN

[enblightened]

Child, you've nothing to fear from me. Battling an inner demon is a matter I have struggled with for years. You have what compassion I am able to offer.

It is also at your leisure to do so. Simply know it is an option to speak of it to me, not a demand.

[laminae]

[Fern nods a little at this, absently reaching up to rub his right upper arm. Cool, good, this is a good option.]

Hah, yeah... I get it. This is just - something I'm still getting used to. The - the talking about it thing, and not just mental vaulting it again. [He reaches up gesturing at his head like he's locking a chest.]

[enblightened]

[There is a faint smile from Bigby. It is tired, but no less encouraging.]

Controlling oneself is not the same as locking it away. Though I suppose you know this now.

Controlling your instincts is a difficult thing to master. Seek me out, if you wish. You are not lost, nor alone.

☣️ VARIAN

[enblightened]

No, of course not. I did not mean to imply that it makes death any simpler. Such things would still be haunting.

[And he suspects there's never a promise that someone will return no matter what -- nor does it undo whatever suffering they have endured.]

Yes, and I surmise that it doesn't change your way of thinking. Best not to waste both our times on that sort of thing.

[droptheious]

It's okay, I got what you meant. And yeah... it really is.

[At least in Trench, it seems the death penalties are less, but that makes him...nervous. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.]

Wow, I wish everyone was like you. See how easy that was!

[enblightened]

I am afraid that I've had the task of enduring company of particularly stubborn individuals. Trying to change your mind would not be unlike attempting to battle a mountain with my bare hands.

[He knows the type. Varian doesn't seem foolish, but certainly a determined young man.]

It is not lacking in endearment. You appear to also be stubbornly kind.

1 - Sanguine Station

[nautmagical]

[Either fortunately, or unfortunately, for Bigby, the Station is in Vasco's neck of the woods. Or, rather, neck of the docks. He never quite roams too far, between renting a room at the Achelliac, and throwing in with whichever fishing ship was going out that day. A low position for a Naut Captain, but anything to get off the shore and back onto the sea again.]

[The strange malady seems to have passed, and food has regained its proper consistency. All the more reason to stride into the Inn, dropping down a few pieces of beach glass on the counter.]

Evening. [... he's not a pirate, but boy does he sound like one. It's only when he receives a drink that he steps away from the bar and - oh. There's someone in his Corner of Mystery already.]

Evening. [He even tips his hat to the man - to Bigby.] Seems we've a like mind for seating arrangements.

[enblightened]

[It's an impressive set of tattoos to be sure, and everything about this man screams me true love is the sea. He's encountered a number of pirates over time, both alive and undead. Fortunately, this sailor is flesh and blood and, presumably, sane.

Bigby stiffens up slightly when he's addressed.]

Unintentional, rest assured. If this is where you tend to be, the seating's yours, stranger; I mean no intrusion.

[nautmagical]

No need. I'm not so picky as that.

[There's amusement in the words, under the Naut's drawl. He waves a gloved hand at the Inn around them.] Plenty of other chairs in the house. More gratified to see I'm not the only one with the habit of dramatic corners.

[The tattooed face creases in a grin, like he's just made a hilarious joke. Pale eyes flick up and down the stranger, noting the chains before offering up the appropriate hand.]

Captain Vasco, of the Nauts, if that's got any meaning to you.

II

[unsheathedfromreality]

[The--thing--sharing Bigby's stall is a mass of black feathers with the oily luster of a beetle's back. It is still as something dead up until the shouting starts; it gives a convulsive start, a dozen golden faceted eyes snapping open and rolling blindly in their sockets.]

((...I know that voice.))

[And maybe the other man recognizes his, though it's coming from something very different from the pale fanged gentleman who met Bigby on the beach.

The eyes shut again. Illarion(?) heaves himself upright with a rustle of feathers and a clanking of chains. A moment's needed for him to orient to time and situation (the heavy weight of chains on his limbs, the overwhelming scent of blood, the fear in his companion's voice), and then--]

((Breathe, friend. You're still in Trench,)) [maybe,] ((and I need your help.))

[It isn't always the case such an appeal worked in the face of intense emotion, but it's worth making.

Especially since Illarion's certain he does need help.]

[enblightened]

Lies! Another trick! You'll lure me not!

[As he speaks, he feels more frantic. Horns just barely grow out of his skull, fangs just forming in his mouth. But somehow, actually shapeshifting all the way is out of reach. Something is wrong, what did they do to him?

But he isn't completely gone. No, not entirely. Slowly, he remembers-- even back then, when he was locked away for years, not once did he ever have a cellmate.

And he certainly is not the only one in chains right now.

Bigby heaves and his head bows as he tries to work on calming himself. The control so delicately he has built is damaged, but not gone.]

I know you, too.

[The words are whispered with realization, but also with fear.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Fear can be infectious in a closed space like this one, can leap from sufferer to sufferer until all were stricken with mass panic. The dead no longer know true fear, but this isn't the first time Illarion's been chained, either--not the first time he's sat in blood-reeking darkness and wondered what his captors wanted with him, while the comrade next to him went mad with confinement. Not the first time hostile magic had flattened him entirely into the world everyone else saw, robbing him of easy escape.

It fills an old pattern and evokes the response hidden within it. The pattern is not fear, but it would make his pulse beat faster if he had one, and he notices--belatedly--he's breathing more than he requires to speak, like he'll need the air to flee or fight.

He curls his hands into fists, talons digging into palms until the first smoking shimmer of spilled Darkblood trickles up from them. He waits for that whisper of recognition before he'll try speaking again.]

((We're in bad straits, aren't we?))

[The situation's dire enough he's switched to Shriketongue and given up his usual circumlocutions. Time and directness are of the essence here.]

((But they don't know what they've caught. We will get out of here.))

III. A GIBBOUS MOON

[rosae]

( There are dangerous things to come out at night. Rose knows all too well what darkness can allow in.

But it's in the darkness that she found her daughter once before, and perhaps where she will find her again. If Sharon is here (and Rose still thinks she must be), she might not be somewhere easy, somewhere safe and warm. She might be somewhere dark and horrible again.

Rose will welcome the darkness, as she had then. It isn't with fearlessness; she is afraid as evening begins to set in and she wanders the outskirts of the city on her own. (Foolish maybe; it's so foolish, to be out alone when night strikes in this place, but she doesn't have the luxury to choose otherwise.)

She doesn't even have a weapon. All she carries in her arms is a teddy bear, an item that had washed up on the black shores of the beach. Her daughter's. She hasn't let go of it since.

Then she sees someone there, and immediately she recognises him, his visage. A strange man who had offered her a... sacrificial kindness back when she'd first washed up on the beach. A marred person donning scars and chains... what happened to him?

The shadows are slowly lengthening as Rose approaches, brows knit in concern. It's more for him than it is of him. He's out here alone too, after all, and he's right — one never knows what lurks. )

Hey— Are you all right? You shouldn't be out here all by yourself.

( ....Hypocrisy at its finest, Rose. But the Mother in her is strong, stronger than ever these days. And though she still barely knows this man.... she won't ever forget what he'd done for her. )

[enblightened]

Rose.

[The realization of who he sees comes out with her name, and Bigby's fingers nervously dig into his cloak. For a moment, he thinks to scold gently, but he notices the bear in her arms.]

The moon affects me. As it was in my world, so it is here. It unleashes something terrible in me, and my resolve is not strong enough during this night when it is so full. So I must ask that you stay away as my worse half unleashes.

...Though, I could not help but notice the toy you carry.

[With his free hand, he gestures to the teddy bear.]

Is that your daughter's?

[rosae]

( The moon affects him....? By now, Rose has seen too many seemingly impossible things to dismiss anything as truly impossible. And though she can't even imagine the extent to what he's referring to.... she can't help thinking, yet again, of her daughter. It's what his words remind her of — 'worse half'.

She'd so freshly learned how her daughter was actually one half of a whole. She'd seen the demonic thing that made up the other half, even welcomed it into herself.... comforted it, let that dark entity inside. Protected it... her until she could stand on her own again. Alessa.

Rose isn't without fear of what he's saying, but perhaps she isn't as afraid as she should be. She just stares widely at him, and then blinks down to the item he gestures to. )

Yes, I found it— on the beach. ( She remembers him saying something before, about being able to track things belonging to others.... but now might not be the time, if he's... awaiting something. )

I think it must mean that she's... really here. That I can find her again. ( Rose swallows, brow furrowing as she studies him. ) ....What's inside of you?

iii!

[grice]

[ under the moon's light, falco had never felt this way. there was reverberating energy deep within him that spoke and pulsed the same as the source of the night's illumination. it was the paleblood within him, and surely he remembered what was explained to him. the man in the night is the one that piques falco's attention away from his curiosity, and reminds him that he's done enough traveling for the day. ]

It feels . . . Nice out. [ but it is getting late, and erwin is probably going to worry sick either way if he doesn't go to their temporary home, soon. he can feel his legs begin to move, but shortly after the man. ] Sir? Where're you going?

[ towards that very danger—? ]

[enblightened]

[For a moment, Bigby purses his lips, his fingers tightening hard enough into his cloak that his knuckles go white. It is lovely how the people here accept him, socialize, offer their kindness and understanding.

It is also, occasionally, frustrating. Not that this boy would know or understand that. It is not his fault, but his restraints under the moon do wear thin.

So he takes in a breath, calms himself, then speaks.]

I must be away from people, child. And you, I think, ought to be under a roof and be safe, yes?

[grice]

[ falco knows the guilt of a man called monster his whole life, like the men around him, like his brother and kin— hell, while he’s no man yet, it is what he’s heard over the twelve years he’s lived until he got pulled out of that oppressive homeland and into two others that had treated him the way he’s always dreamed of: just as a boy, despite the unfortunate events tagged to them. ]

Shouldn’t you be too, sir?

[ he does not retreat his extended heart. loneliness has always begged for company, and he’s no different. ]

iii

[kingofsarcasm]

[Having a werewolf for a best friend has made Stiles keep track of the moon cycles just automatically now. And one thing that makes him extremely curious about Trench is how the moon behaves and clearly has a grip on the residents in different ways. He's out in the evening, preparing to take some cautious observations of any changes in line with the moon phase with a bag of gear he's about to throw into the back seat of his jeep when Bigby passes by. The comment has his brow furrowing.]

"A difficult night"? Hey, dude, hold up. What makes this one any more difficult than the others?

[enblightened]

The moon will be full. I've felt it, its light brighter and brighter...

[Fingers curl tight into his shroud, and he shakes his head.]

There will be beasts all about. Myself included. Be warned, and return under the safety of a roof. That is my advice.

[kingofsarcasm]

[Well that's cryptic to just about anyone who has never heard of a werewolf before. But he's seen all kinds of weird things since coming here and he's not about to go assuming what this guy is is a werewolf, he could be a… werepossum. Or something.]

Soooo, you're a werewolf?