Deer Country Mod (
reddosmod) wrote in
deercountry2023-05-08 02:34 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
PLAGUES AND FREEDOM
MAY 2023 EVENT
TRAPPED
CULICIDAE
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
CODING
Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, some of last year's May Prompts are available for use. Prompts 1 & 2 may be used if you wish, unchanged from the previous year's prompts.
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Close up of feral monstrous human with green-yellow eyes]
[Image Two: Humanoid encased in volcanic rock, screaming]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Giant Mosquito in the woods]
[Image Two: Human covered in swarm of leeches]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Creepy looking old open door]
[Image Two: Familiar subterranean cavern with statue]
Prompt One
[Image One: Close up of feral monstrous human with green-yellow eyes]
[Image Two: Humanoid encased in volcanic rock, screaming]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Giant Mosquito in the woods]
[Image Two: Human covered in swarm of leeches]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Creepy looking old open door]
[Image Two: Familiar subterranean cavern with statue]
WHEN: Anytime in May
WHERE: Anywhere in or outside of Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Psychological Horror, Out-of-body Experience, Potential Self-Harm, Potential Feelings of Severe Isolation, Possible Monster Transformation, Possible Death
WHERE: Anywhere in or outside of Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Psychological Horror, Out-of-body Experience, Potential Self-Harm, Potential Feelings of Severe Isolation, Possible Monster Transformation, Possible Death
[Excerpt From the Transmorgriphia, a pamphlet on Bausphomette penned an indeterminate number of years ago. It is commonly found in Cassandra, if one asks more about the Pthumerian.]
The next day, you feel trapped. You can still move around, still talk, still do everything that you normally do. Anyone who might look at you would see nothing wrong, and in fact you go through the motions for the next day or two without any physiological differences, other than that you feel a cold and almost clammy sensation all along your skin, like it is tingling and alive somehow. Yet, still, you feel trapped in your body, as if your body was a prison and you have to somehow figure out a way to get out of it, to become something else. You aren't meant to be what you are, no matter how out of place this sensation is, and you have to get out of your current state or something awful will happen. You become increasingly sure of this. It is almost as if you are riding inside of your own body, and something else is occupying it, displacing you and making you feel deeply wrong. You can try to explain it to others, but the sensation is so out of the norm that it can be hard to put into words, and deep down the feeling that nobody would believe you may permeate for many people.
Within days, however, the sensation becomes all consuming. You are certain of it. You have to get out of your body, have to become something else, have to transform. Something is supposed to be helping you, but they're not, and you have to take drastic actions. At this point, one of three things may happen. The first and arguably the most awful is that you resist the urge to do anything truly drastic. You soldier through, but you do not tell others or find nobody who can sympathize with your situation. You suffer in silence for days until you begin to curl in on yourself, your body calcifying like your mind as you convert into a shriveled, curled up statue in a shape eerily like a cocoon. At this point, death is a mercy as your heart slowly stops. The bad dream will linger for a week after you come back to life, but it will be over at least. The second is almost as bad, and certainly more dangerous for others. You succumb to the urge and take drastic measures to break out of your body. This could come in the form of cutting yourself in horrific fashion, skinning yourself alive, dashing your head against a rock, or some other very obviously fatal and gruesome activity meant to get out of the shell that you perceive to be your body. The only problem is that you don't die. You do, in fact, immediately transform into your Beast state if you do this, insane with rage that must either be calmed normally or necessitate your death. The third is that you are talked down from this state. A friend shows empathy to you, reassuring you that you are in fact fine, that perhaps whatever you are experiencing is a curse, or maybe you're having an actual identity crisis. It isn't actually important how the person empathizes with you, or even if they really understand what you are experiencing. It is the fact that they are empathizing, trying to help you. That interaction, much like what the Night Walkers do every day, helps to cleanse the malaise and, though the harrowing experience may haunt you for a day or two more, the comfort can keep you from doing anything too dangerous.
Wastes, if asked about this effect later on in the month, will say that the cocoons of Argonaut's lesser moths are always cleaned up by Bausphomette in advance of the Flushed Moon. Still filled with so much hope for a new possibility, they carry an almost toxic level of desire for change that the Pthumerian cleanses them lest they coerce people into a state of confusion and malaise under the light of the flushed moon. It is one of many acts that the Pthumerian usually takes in order to protect the people of Trench and help ease them through transitions in a healthy fashion. The Disciples will confirm that their influence is weak this month, because they are performing an incredibly powerful ritual, one whose hum of power can be felt throughout the month.
FAQ:
Bausphomette and Madam Generosity are thought of by many as being closely associated, though many have wondered why it is that the Shedding Ceremony is always found to occur during Madam Generosity's influence rather than Bausphomette's, given the latter's focus upon evolution, sense of self and transformation. One thought as to why stems from the difference in their attitudes on the subject. Where Madame Generosity focused upon the process of change and the need for all things to evolve, Bausphomette represented the fact that change should ultimately come from who one truly is, that it should be healthy and that one should neither be trapped in a state of being, nor forced to be altered.The experience seems to come from something so innocuous. You look, and you see what appears to be the left over shell of a moth's cocoon. Its larval and pupal stages are done and now it has spread its wings and fluttered away. By the look of things, it couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, and quite possibly was one of the lesser brethren of Argonaut. Funny, though, you don't remember seeing these around last year when it was this time of year. If you mention it to someone in Trench, their face will pale and they will swallow hard, saying that Bausphomette usually cleans those up at the start of the month. Perhaps you shrug it off, or perhaps you decide to research it or even collect it. It doesn't matter, because that's when everything goes awry.
The result of this line of thought has been the long-standing belief that Bausphomette is less of the creator of change, and more its regulator in the city of Trench. They focus their energies upon making sure that transformations that occur over which they watch do so in a fashion that is healthy, and at the same time in a way that reflects the “True Self” of the person transforming. When Bausphomette is strong, then, sense of self is also found to be very healthy, and likewise beastly transformations are rarer if not unheard of. Likewise, without that regulation it is possible for a person to find themselves stymied and unable to transform when they wish to and are ready to do so, or just as bad could find themselves transforming against their will to a form that is anything but healthy. For this reason, Bausphomette is one of the most consistently revered among the Disciples for what is seen as a very positive influence upon all in Trench, especially Sleepers.
The next day, you feel trapped. You can still move around, still talk, still do everything that you normally do. Anyone who might look at you would see nothing wrong, and in fact you go through the motions for the next day or two without any physiological differences, other than that you feel a cold and almost clammy sensation all along your skin, like it is tingling and alive somehow. Yet, still, you feel trapped in your body, as if your body was a prison and you have to somehow figure out a way to get out of it, to become something else. You aren't meant to be what you are, no matter how out of place this sensation is, and you have to get out of your current state or something awful will happen. You become increasingly sure of this. It is almost as if you are riding inside of your own body, and something else is occupying it, displacing you and making you feel deeply wrong. You can try to explain it to others, but the sensation is so out of the norm that it can be hard to put into words, and deep down the feeling that nobody would believe you may permeate for many people.
Within days, however, the sensation becomes all consuming. You are certain of it. You have to get out of your body, have to become something else, have to transform. Something is supposed to be helping you, but they're not, and you have to take drastic actions. At this point, one of three things may happen. The first and arguably the most awful is that you resist the urge to do anything truly drastic. You soldier through, but you do not tell others or find nobody who can sympathize with your situation. You suffer in silence for days until you begin to curl in on yourself, your body calcifying like your mind as you convert into a shriveled, curled up statue in a shape eerily like a cocoon. At this point, death is a mercy as your heart slowly stops. The bad dream will linger for a week after you come back to life, but it will be over at least. The second is almost as bad, and certainly more dangerous for others. You succumb to the urge and take drastic measures to break out of your body. This could come in the form of cutting yourself in horrific fashion, skinning yourself alive, dashing your head against a rock, or some other very obviously fatal and gruesome activity meant to get out of the shell that you perceive to be your body. The only problem is that you don't die. You do, in fact, immediately transform into your Beast state if you do this, insane with rage that must either be calmed normally or necessitate your death. The third is that you are talked down from this state. A friend shows empathy to you, reassuring you that you are in fact fine, that perhaps whatever you are experiencing is a curse, or maybe you're having an actual identity crisis. It isn't actually important how the person empathizes with you, or even if they really understand what you are experiencing. It is the fact that they are empathizing, trying to help you. That interaction, much like what the Night Walkers do every day, helps to cleanse the malaise and, though the harrowing experience may haunt you for a day or two more, the comfort can keep you from doing anything too dangerous.
Wastes, if asked about this effect later on in the month, will say that the cocoons of Argonaut's lesser moths are always cleaned up by Bausphomette in advance of the Flushed Moon. Still filled with so much hope for a new possibility, they carry an almost toxic level of desire for change that the Pthumerian cleanses them lest they coerce people into a state of confusion and malaise under the light of the flushed moon. It is one of many acts that the Pthumerian usually takes in order to protect the people of Trench and help ease them through transitions in a healthy fashion. The Disciples will confirm that their influence is weak this month, because they are performing an incredibly powerful ritual, one whose hum of power can be felt throughout the month.
FAQ:
- This effect is easily avoided by simply never finding a cocoon.
- The condition worsens over a period somewhere between 3-7 days.
- If a Sleeper transforms into a Beast, they can be cured of beasthood in normal fashions, or killed in normal fashions.
- It is possible to speak about this out of body experience, but it is difficult to explain what is going on, and to articulate one's feelings. Characters are not stopped from doing so, but they may feel increasingly uncomfortable speaking about their problems.
- Any positive empathy and conversation about the problem can lead to a cure of the effect if the player wishes it. This does not need to take any specific form, so long as the issue a person has is acknowledged and they are listened to sincerely.
WHEN: Anytime in May
WHERE: Around Trench, especially areas of stagnant water between populated regions
CONTENT WARNINGS: Insect Horror, Blood Loss, Disease, Pathogen, Possible Character Death, Hallucinations
WHERE: Around Trench, especially areas of stagnant water between populated regions
CONTENT WARNINGS: Insect Horror, Blood Loss, Disease, Pathogen, Possible Character Death, Hallucinations
Mosquitoes are awful creatures, and most people would hate them. It's no surprise, then, that great lengths are usually taken to try and minimize their presence in the city of Trench. The fact that they could transfer contact between blood types, even including the toxic nature of many vilebloods would make them a hazard to everyone. So, the people of Trench usually take extensive steps to kill them off whenever they rise. However, this month the marshy conditions are making that more difficult than normal. Though many of the Architects and Arcane Scholars in town assure anyone who ask that the problem will be gotten under control soon enough, for now there are mosquitoes everywhere. It's hard to avoid the little bastards, and they're causing a real problem in Trench.
First of all, there are just the simple dangers of veritable plagues of tiny blood suckers floating around and trying to get a taste. They can be found anywhere a stagnant pool of water lies unattended, and the clouds of them are numerous enough to be a real threat. If you're assaulted by one such cloud, they will endeavor to suck you dry of whatever blood you may have inside of you. This isn't likely to be fatal, but it can be deeply unpleasant as hundreds of bites result in actual blood loss! Worse, even those who might have protections against this sort of thing like toxic blood will find that these bugs are surprisingly resistant to any blood-power based defenses, even though they tend to be less interested in Vilebloods and very interested in Darkbloods. Regardless of their preferences, everyone is in peril.
Of course, regular mosquitoes are bad, but they're not the worst. There's the big ones. Wretched Stirges and Bloodbugs that are reminiscent of monstrous insectoids from other realities have at times managed to populate in Trench. Usually, they are kept to a miniscule level, but currently they can be found in town. They can be anywhere from the size of a housecat and hunting in packs, or humanoid in size. Their hunger is proportional to their body mass, meaning that they very well could suck a person dry. They're thankfully very much killable, but the buggers are fast and hideous, so be prepared to fight them off if you're spending a lot of time outside, especially in the areas between districts.
That's not the worst of it, sadly. Such creatures are known to be harbingers of disease in many worlds, and these are no exceptions. A particularly nasty condition known as “Blood Rot” is the very reason that mosquitoes are so reviled in Trench. When one feeds from two different types of blood in a twenty-four hour period, there is a very real possibility that the blood itself becomes corrupted in the process. It guarantees that the awful creature will die by the end of that period, but they may transfer some of that corrupted blood in the process of biting an unwitting target. The symptoms are brief stages of intense delirium and hallucinations, usually of monstrous sorts that can cause distress for anyone, followed by a very negative impact on the blood. A sleeper's blood powers begin to act up in ways that are violently dangerous to themselves and those around them. A Darkblood could find themselves teleporting wildly and without warning into hazardous places, or accidentally teleporting dangerous objects over a friend's head. Vilebloods might become toxic to the touch or start exuding putrid gases when they breathe, sickening those around them. Palebloods might very well start causing the emotions of people around them to worsen considerably, or see false visions that lead to bad decisions. Coldbloods could find their powers wildly out of control, burning and freezing things around them. Warmbloods could find themselves with new, uncontrollable powers that are intensely painful. These are symptoms of the real threat. The disease, within a week, will begin to manifest its final and terminal stages. The blood inside of the person rots, causing them to develop severe fatigue and black lesions in the form of veiny patches all over their bodies. At this point, they have to be treated within hours, or they will die horribly, coughing up black blood everywhere. Should a person die this way, corrupted blood crystals form on their body which could theoretically be harvested, though they are highly toxic and only produce a poisonous effect of severe, debilitating nausea, usually upon those mishandling them!
The cure is thankfully a simple one, but it isn't exactly pleasant. They must have the corrupted blood removed from them, generally through leeches. There are leeches that are in the possession of the Blood Ministers who are trained to seek out and devour corrupted blood like this. They can do so safely, and so long as an infusion of the same kind of blood as the victim normally has is produced, they can recover. However, the farther in they are, the more difficult the process is and the longer it takes. Though, so long as they are not coughing up their own blood, they can recover within a week at the worst.
First of all, there are just the simple dangers of veritable plagues of tiny blood suckers floating around and trying to get a taste. They can be found anywhere a stagnant pool of water lies unattended, and the clouds of them are numerous enough to be a real threat. If you're assaulted by one such cloud, they will endeavor to suck you dry of whatever blood you may have inside of you. This isn't likely to be fatal, but it can be deeply unpleasant as hundreds of bites result in actual blood loss! Worse, even those who might have protections against this sort of thing like toxic blood will find that these bugs are surprisingly resistant to any blood-power based defenses, even though they tend to be less interested in Vilebloods and very interested in Darkbloods. Regardless of their preferences, everyone is in peril.
Of course, regular mosquitoes are bad, but they're not the worst. There's the big ones. Wretched Stirges and Bloodbugs that are reminiscent of monstrous insectoids from other realities have at times managed to populate in Trench. Usually, they are kept to a miniscule level, but currently they can be found in town. They can be anywhere from the size of a housecat and hunting in packs, or humanoid in size. Their hunger is proportional to their body mass, meaning that they very well could suck a person dry. They're thankfully very much killable, but the buggers are fast and hideous, so be prepared to fight them off if you're spending a lot of time outside, especially in the areas between districts.
That's not the worst of it, sadly. Such creatures are known to be harbingers of disease in many worlds, and these are no exceptions. A particularly nasty condition known as “Blood Rot” is the very reason that mosquitoes are so reviled in Trench. When one feeds from two different types of blood in a twenty-four hour period, there is a very real possibility that the blood itself becomes corrupted in the process. It guarantees that the awful creature will die by the end of that period, but they may transfer some of that corrupted blood in the process of biting an unwitting target. The symptoms are brief stages of intense delirium and hallucinations, usually of monstrous sorts that can cause distress for anyone, followed by a very negative impact on the blood. A sleeper's blood powers begin to act up in ways that are violently dangerous to themselves and those around them. A Darkblood could find themselves teleporting wildly and without warning into hazardous places, or accidentally teleporting dangerous objects over a friend's head. Vilebloods might become toxic to the touch or start exuding putrid gases when they breathe, sickening those around them. Palebloods might very well start causing the emotions of people around them to worsen considerably, or see false visions that lead to bad decisions. Coldbloods could find their powers wildly out of control, burning and freezing things around them. Warmbloods could find themselves with new, uncontrollable powers that are intensely painful. These are symptoms of the real threat. The disease, within a week, will begin to manifest its final and terminal stages. The blood inside of the person rots, causing them to develop severe fatigue and black lesions in the form of veiny patches all over their bodies. At this point, they have to be treated within hours, or they will die horribly, coughing up black blood everywhere. Should a person die this way, corrupted blood crystals form on their body which could theoretically be harvested, though they are highly toxic and only produce a poisonous effect of severe, debilitating nausea, usually upon those mishandling them!
The cure is thankfully a simple one, but it isn't exactly pleasant. They must have the corrupted blood removed from them, generally through leeches. There are leeches that are in the possession of the Blood Ministers who are trained to seek out and devour corrupted blood like this. They can do so safely, and so long as an infusion of the same kind of blood as the victim normally has is produced, they can recover. However, the farther in they are, the more difficult the process is and the longer it takes. Though, so long as they are not coughing up their own blood, they can recover within a week at the worst.
WHEN: Any time in May
WHERE: Somewhere Else?
CONTENT WARNINGS: Flesh Cocoons, The Belief that You have Died, Memory Loss, Heavy 4th Wall Implications.
WHERE: Somewhere Else?
CONTENT WARNINGS: Flesh Cocoons, The Belief that You have Died, Memory Loss, Heavy 4th Wall Implications.
Well, that's it then. Knackered yet again. You don't even know how it happened. One minute you were alive, and now you're not. Pushing up Daisies, or perhaps more accurately crystals, that's what your body has to be doing. You felt it as it happened. You were just standing there, minding your own business, when you felt what almost seemed to be a colossal titan's blow to the chest, right about where your heart is. For some of you, you didn't even realize that you had a heart, but now that it's missing from your chest, you know that you desperately needed it in that moment, and the old love muscle's disappearance from your chest cavity has caused your body to collapse to the ground like a ragdoll and rapidly cool. Hopefully you weren't in too humiliating of a position, but this is Trench, so I wouldn't be hoping for the best right now. Nothing for it. Don't hang about here feeling sorry for yourself. It's time to hop to it, roll up those stats again and get vengeance after you get over the death flu. There's just one teensy little problem.
You aren't where you expected to be.
You're still catching your breath when you realize that you are somewhere different. The place feels deeply familiar, but you cannot place it. You would swear that you've been here before, but your memory refuses to pin it down at first. For a few of you, the memory eventually begins to gel while you look around what seems to be a platform of cobbled stone, surrounded by crystals. It looks unnervingly like a place that no longer exists, a glimmer of the memories of Deerington, deep underground, where one of three doors once stood, but not the door that was ultimately opened. There are differences, and everywhere in this darkened chamber you smell the acrid, salty bite of brackish seawater. There is a constant dripping sound, and you feel like you aren't alone. This is probably about the time that you are looking for an exit.
There are two of them. Along one path, you see a stairwell leading down towards a doorway. Immediately opposite it in the circular space you stand is another stairwell, leading upwards towards the scintillating surfaces of undulating light that eerily fills the chamber. At the top of the stairs is another doorway. The moment that you have seen both doorways, there is a growl that rumbles from behind you, a low rumble. “If you had a choice. What would you choose?” The presence does not linger, nor does it answer questions. It is not sinister in tone, but it is likewise not human. You have three choices. Wait, and see what happens or test one of the two doors. Each, despite their alien nature, feels deeply familiar for some reason. While you are here, you may even see other sleepers similarly trapped, and be able to talk with them, perhaps even enter a door together.
(NOTE: Only actual canon mates can enter the doorway leading down together. Anyone can enter the doorway leading upwards together.)
Through the doorway that leads down, you find yourself in your old life, at the exact moment from which you departed to arrive in Trench. The very last memory you felt plays out, and all memory of Trench, of the life you lived in it, of Deerington (should your memories go back that far), is gone. You do not remember a moment of the time that you spent in this world, and instead you pick up with your life exactly as you were about to in that split second of time. This vision could last for mere seconds, or it could continue for days. Though it is unlikely, it might even last for a year. At some point, for just a split second you will sense the reality, that something is not right, that it is still nothing more than a vision, and when you blink, you will find yourself back before the door again, the latch now firmly closed. You will remember all that you saw, a memory of returning to your world, to your life, to everything that you were, but one where Trench was not even a memory.
Through the doorway that leads up, you open it to find yourself returned to the streets of Trench, changed. You happen to glance at a mirror and you see it in your face. There are gray hairs, wrinkles, weathered years. Perhaps you are in shape, perhaps not, but you can remember time's passage suddenly. You have lived in Trench for years now, for decades. Like most real memories, things get muddled the farther back you go, so you don't remember it all clearly, but you remember holding down a job, finding a way to deal with blood corruption, putting up with frequent awfulness but making a life in the midst of it all. Beasts and monsters have been a threat, but you have soldiered on, and now you are home. It isn't a temporary home, but rather the home you have owned for a long time. You have family in this place, a life. The form it takes is as unique as you yourself are, and it is both as awful as one might imagine at times, and yet it is also a life where the happiness of having chosen to live here has outweighed the bad. You can travel among the places in Trench, use the lantern network, meet with your friends who remained behind, see the children playing at the orphanage. At some point, you will vaguely recall as a passing memory having spoken to someone from your old world, and that they had reassured you that 'you' were still present in their world, though they don't know how it was possible. You just smiled that day. It all feels so very normal, and perhaps you linger here for a while, but eventually this too feels like the vision it is, and you blink before finding yourself before a now locked door.
Only when you have opened one, or both of these doors do you find that there is another door, right in the center. It's a simple wooden door. You don't have to take it yet, but you know for a fact that it has to be the only way out. The moment your hand touches the door, you hear the growl again. “I cannot open the passageway for you yet, for it is not mine to open or close, but this I can give you. One last bit of this world's pull that I will cleanse from you.” And, as you step through the door, you no longer feel compelled to remain in Trench. You do not feel compelled to leave, but likewise you do not feel compelled to remain. It is simply a place now. You awaken with a gasp, right where you were, covered in the fleshy strands of a cocoon, as if you had visited home.
F.A.Q.
You aren't where you expected to be.
You're still catching your breath when you realize that you are somewhere different. The place feels deeply familiar, but you cannot place it. You would swear that you've been here before, but your memory refuses to pin it down at first. For a few of you, the memory eventually begins to gel while you look around what seems to be a platform of cobbled stone, surrounded by crystals. It looks unnervingly like a place that no longer exists, a glimmer of the memories of Deerington, deep underground, where one of three doors once stood, but not the door that was ultimately opened. There are differences, and everywhere in this darkened chamber you smell the acrid, salty bite of brackish seawater. There is a constant dripping sound, and you feel like you aren't alone. This is probably about the time that you are looking for an exit.
There are two of them. Along one path, you see a stairwell leading down towards a doorway. Immediately opposite it in the circular space you stand is another stairwell, leading upwards towards the scintillating surfaces of undulating light that eerily fills the chamber. At the top of the stairs is another doorway. The moment that you have seen both doorways, there is a growl that rumbles from behind you, a low rumble. “If you had a choice. What would you choose?” The presence does not linger, nor does it answer questions. It is not sinister in tone, but it is likewise not human. You have three choices. Wait, and see what happens or test one of the two doors. Each, despite their alien nature, feels deeply familiar for some reason. While you are here, you may even see other sleepers similarly trapped, and be able to talk with them, perhaps even enter a door together.
(NOTE: Only actual canon mates can enter the doorway leading down together. Anyone can enter the doorway leading upwards together.)
Through the doorway that leads down, you find yourself in your old life, at the exact moment from which you departed to arrive in Trench. The very last memory you felt plays out, and all memory of Trench, of the life you lived in it, of Deerington (should your memories go back that far), is gone. You do not remember a moment of the time that you spent in this world, and instead you pick up with your life exactly as you were about to in that split second of time. This vision could last for mere seconds, or it could continue for days. Though it is unlikely, it might even last for a year. At some point, for just a split second you will sense the reality, that something is not right, that it is still nothing more than a vision, and when you blink, you will find yourself back before the door again, the latch now firmly closed. You will remember all that you saw, a memory of returning to your world, to your life, to everything that you were, but one where Trench was not even a memory.
Through the doorway that leads up, you open it to find yourself returned to the streets of Trench, changed. You happen to glance at a mirror and you see it in your face. There are gray hairs, wrinkles, weathered years. Perhaps you are in shape, perhaps not, but you can remember time's passage suddenly. You have lived in Trench for years now, for decades. Like most real memories, things get muddled the farther back you go, so you don't remember it all clearly, but you remember holding down a job, finding a way to deal with blood corruption, putting up with frequent awfulness but making a life in the midst of it all. Beasts and monsters have been a threat, but you have soldiered on, and now you are home. It isn't a temporary home, but rather the home you have owned for a long time. You have family in this place, a life. The form it takes is as unique as you yourself are, and it is both as awful as one might imagine at times, and yet it is also a life where the happiness of having chosen to live here has outweighed the bad. You can travel among the places in Trench, use the lantern network, meet with your friends who remained behind, see the children playing at the orphanage. At some point, you will vaguely recall as a passing memory having spoken to someone from your old world, and that they had reassured you that 'you' were still present in their world, though they don't know how it was possible. You just smiled that day. It all feels so very normal, and perhaps you linger here for a while, but eventually this too feels like the vision it is, and you blink before finding yourself before a now locked door.
Only when you have opened one, or both of these doors do you find that there is another door, right in the center. It's a simple wooden door. You don't have to take it yet, but you know for a fact that it has to be the only way out. The moment your hand touches the door, you hear the growl again. “I cannot open the passageway for you yet, for it is not mine to open or close, but this I can give you. One last bit of this world's pull that I will cleanse from you.” And, as you step through the door, you no longer feel compelled to remain in Trench. You do not feel compelled to leave, but likewise you do not feel compelled to remain. It is simply a place now. You awaken with a gasp, right where you were, covered in the fleshy strands of a cocoon, as if you had visited home.
F.A.Q.
- Any character currently in Trench is invited to experience this prompt at any time during the month of May. It may happen at any time within that month, and because time does not work normally in this event, when a character experiences this vision does not impact what other characters they may experience it with (e.g. a person who experiences it on the 1st may also experience it with someone who experiences it on the 31st because wibbly wobbly timey wimey.
- This prompt can be avoided, though one side effect of it cannot. By the end of the month of May, there is a sense in which your character will no longer feel a magical compulsion to remain, or to leave in Trench. They will feel that they are clearly able to choose what they wish, should at a later time it become possible to return home of their own free will, or likewise to choose to remain.
- Though Bausphomette removes the compulsion to remain in Trench, it was not of Pthumerian origins, but rather natural to the world of Trench. Your character may choose to believe or disbelieve this.
- Any character may experience this place once, but may remain within the doorways for as long as you wish. In Trench, they will collapse without warning and appear to be in a cocoon as if in a canon update for 24 hours.
- Your character does not actually die. Bausphomette is just being dramatic.
- ONLY canon mates can experience your canon together through the doorway leading down. This is because your characters will experience what happens in their actual canon, without AU effects. They will not remember anything of Trench, as if it never happened.
- You may experience the door leading up with any character or characters that you wish, as many times as you wish (as if they entered the door at slightly different times, and you simply run into each other in Trench.
- The feeling of freedom your character experiences does not impact the app/drop cycle in any way, but does come with the feeling that at some point you may actually have the choice to remain, or to leave.
- You may experience up to one calendar year at most in each doorway. Eventually the vision will fade.
- Your canon experience is verbatim what happens in your canon. No curses. If there are multiple possible endings for your character from your canon point, you may experience one of these along with the feeling that there were other possibilities. Your Life in Trench experience will have recollections of blood corruption, beasthood, curses and monsters, but though there is danger there will be a clear message that they have found a way to live more, or less, comfortably in the city. It also does not feel definite, but rather an honest possibility.
- The vision of Trench will leave your character with the clear hint that, even if they choose to remain in Trench, their original self will still live out the events of their life. Their world will not experience the lack of their presence. They will simply be a splinter, a fragment, an alternate who chose to remain in this world. (Congratulations. You are now an AU.)
Neopolitan Sustrai | RWBY | OTA
Neopolitan didn't remember this stupid little curse from last year all that well. She'd had about ten-thousand other things on her mind, so when she started to itch, she barely noticed it. Really, just keeping the mosquitos at bay was enough of a problem and the scratching seemed positively normal after the first of those little bastards had actually bit her.
Of course, after a day it had gotten considerably worse and she was starting to look a little frantic. Something was wrong and she could swear she'd seen a bulge in her arm. She slapped at it, trying to scratch it out but not finding any success. Fidgeting, her eyes widened and she struggled to get an articulation out of what was wrong the moment that she saw someone. She waved frantically for them to come over.
Fuck, hopefully they could help.
(OOC: She's actually hallucinating, rather than having bees growing inside of her, buuuuut it might take some time to talk her down.)
2. Moscheetos!
Right, so. She hated mosquitos to begin with. Filthy little bloodsuckers were awful, and right now she was dealing with varieties of unusual sizes, because of course she was. Leaping back from one such basketball sized flying syringe, she had a small flock of about eight stirges trying to make a meal out of her. Thankfully for the moment, she was keeping them at bay because of the fact that there were two of her, and her cat omen was lunging in where it could find an opening, but this was exhausting, not to mention more than a little irritating.
Lend a hand, perhaps?
3. Blood Pollution
Nope, she was not enjoying this. Fighting off mosquitos was one thing, but this an entirely different problem. Neopolitan looked ill as she tried to continue to stalk the streets on her huntress' duties. It was impossible to ignore because her usual ability to conceal her appearance was gone, and it was just her with all the flaws that she got in taking battle scars over the years. She was deathly pale, and every time she sneezed, there was an after-image of herself, and then that crashed like broken pink glass and she was a hundred feet away, frequently trying to roll with a hard landing.
She snarled and shook her head, whacking at it and looking over at whoever happened to be nearby with a mixture of irritation and concern. Yeah, she knew something was up, but what could she do about this?
4. Wildcard/Special Prompt
A special prompt will be available as a reply here to make it easier to keep the spoilers of Volume 9 separate. Other than that, hit me up!
The Doors (Special Prompt): Forward Dated to May 23rd, Spoilers for v9 RWBY possible
Door Number One, A Life in Trench: (Open to Anyone)
In some ways, this one was predictable. She'd seen happy visions before of her time in Trench. She was here, in a home that looked eerily similar to the last one that she'd had in such a vision. It had been a home she'd shared with Emerald in that one, but there was only one photo of her wife here. It was still on the mantle, though the place looked... cozy, lived in. Neopolitan glanced at a mirror on the wall, seeing a streak of gray in with the pink and brown. Pink glittered and that was gone, along with the crow's feet. Fuck that noise. She was never getting old till the day she died, or at least nobody was ever seeing it if she had anything to say about it.
Hearing a voice from the kitchen, she looked around, a feeling of home to this place prevailing. Was there a knock at the door, or did she enter and check who was there? Even if there was some sadness when she looked at the photo it felt somehow distant, like it had been a long time ago. Finally? She walked to the kitchen and glanced in to see a friend... or perhaps something more?
Door Number Two, Bad Kitty and the Blacksmith: OTA immediately after, and to Ruby/Blake within the events if you want to play anything in v9 out.
Neopolitan stumbled her way back up to the platform. She slumped against the wall and laughed silently. There was someone else trapped here, wasn't there? Maybe time worked funny here, but she was definitely not alone. As she rested down with her back against the wall, she looked up at them and sighed, tears in her eyes but oddly? A smile on her face.
1
"Neo..? What's wrong?"
It's not like Chizuru can see what the other can, after all. All she can tell is that her friend - for some reason - is in a panic.
It makes her quickly look around them, as if she might be able to spot some danger that way - only to see nothing in particular - before looking back at her friend, hoping for an answer.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Ruby Rose | RWBY
[That sudden impact hits Ruby like a truck. She's died once before- And at least thought she had back in her own world as well. So the feeling of her chest pounding and and her gut wrenched into knots is absolutely familiar.
...Except she blinks her eyes open and she's not dead. She's in a cave dimly lit by crystals and that's new but still a little familiar. Either way it takes her a moment before she's picked herself up and dusted off her boots.
It's when she catches sight of the doorways that a sudden melancholy looks hits her face. ]
Oh... This again.
[She says a little idly as she remembers the last time they were presented a choice. Either way she looks to whoever else is with her and gives a little shrug.]
Well- Shall we check this out?
[Culicidae/Imposters (Last years prompt)]
[Mosquitos were a pain in the butt on a regular day. Giant blood sucking mosquitos were worse but at least they were easier targets. It's why Ruby armed with Crescent Rose is at the ready and doing her best to clear the streets of the creatures. It was part of who she was, but she also felt the need to make up for what she had done the month before. So she had buried herself in her work instead.
She fires off a few shots from her rifle to clear away some of the bugs. But just as she's getting to her feet to find a new vantage point she realizes a moment too late that some blood sucking plants have managed to get a hold of ankles and she trips before she properly get her scythe ready to cut them free.
Help a girl out?]
home is where the heart is
Maybe that's why they're here together in these odd circumstances. Ange isn't exactly sure why seeing the doors fills her with an odd sense of dread. Maybe it's just because she's still on edge. Still worried.
But after everything that happened.. she can't refuse Ruby anything. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, as she looks behind them and sees there's nothing there, that there's only the two doors, she can only glance over at the other girl as she slowly says: ]
.. guess we don't have much of a choice either way.
[ Other than between both doors. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Home is Where the Heart Is
She was wiping at her eyes, seeming not to see Ruby at the first, not quite stumbling but taking a moment as she descended the stairs to rest a hand on the edge of the stairwell, right before she realized she wasn't alone. Her eyes widened for just a fraction, right before she felt the familiar touch of the bond, saw the all too familiar eye-patch.
Ruby, but as she knew her. She breathed a sigh of relief and offered a little wave.]
(OOC: Going with what we had talked. Vagueries about "Everything's ok" and chances for the two of them to bond a little, maybe go down and look at "life in Trench" together.)
Johnny Lawrence | Cobra Kai
[Choice was never Johnny's strong point. He could make them sure, but more often than not he found himself on the receiving end of some tough repercussions and life lessons. As much as he liked to push that he was always trying to move forward, the act itself was hard.
Which is why he's staring downward door with a frown on his face. There's something familiar about it- And familiar was good. But it still makes him feel apprehensive. He turns and looks to the upward door and a faint scowl plays at his lips.]
How the hell am I supposed to decide between these?
[Trapped]
[If anyone had expected Johnny to reach out when he was in some sort of trouble. Well that wasn't likely to happen on the best of days, he had a bad habit of trying to act tough and man his through a problem. When this ended up not working- He had definitely to rip his way out of the problem then lay down and accept defeat.
Which is why if anyone stops by the dojo they'll find a massive cobra slithering along outside or within the walls of the warehouse. It doesn't take long for it to take notice of someone in the area and it's quick to lash out and try to sink it's teeth into who ever stopped by.]
[Home is where the heart is.]
[ She sighs, annoyed. ] I am almost tempted to not choose.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Home is where the heart is
Trench fuckery was rarely a blessing, and Robby was appropriately unsure about all of this. ]
Down never leaves anywhere good in stories.
[ Even when you're dead. But even that doesn't sound confident. ]
manabu - coldblood
tl;dr: doing some work on that road between Trench Outpost + Riteior w/ monstery nonsense. cws for the 'trapped' prompt may apply
Oh shit oh fuck oh shit
tl;dr: beastmode bullshit. this beast. cws for the 'trapped' prompt WILL apply bc monster bullshit
It ain't much but it's honest work
tl;dr: trench au, old people!!!
ROAD WORK AHEAD
She gives a curious hum at Manabu's question, tilting her head lazily in his direction. ] Feeling what? Hot and uncomfortable? [ Because that's what she's feeling at the moment. She literally just wants to wiggle out of her clothes and skin and lay in a pool of ice water. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
road work ahead
Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna show up. Got a big welcome for ya.
[a swerve to the side as the creature moves forward, swatting empty air. a redirect toward its flank, and a hard strike with both fists. no time fuckery to counter it, it's a hit this time - maybe enough to count. maybe not, but she's got loads more where these came from.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
road work ahead
What she doesn't expect, however, is for Manabu to seem a little bit.. off. Maybe not even in the way he's looking on the outside, but it's something about his behaviour. Like he seems a little bit on edge as Chizuru hands him a filled lunchbox, some concern appearing in the girl's eyes as she looks at her friend. ]
Um.. What are you feeling..?
[ It could be anything, after all. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Oh shit oh fuck oh shit
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
Honest Work
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Oh Shit
Oh Yaes
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
Vira-Lorr | Record of Agarest War | OTA
Vira-Lorr was sitting in one of the clubs in town, where she would normally not be seen. She had a quiet, contemplative and very somber look in her features. Looking down at her hands, she just kept flexing her fingers as if this was somehow fascinating to her. Everytime she did, she looked more concerned. Eventually, she shook her head and seemed to partially snap out of it before reaching up to order a cup of tea from a passing waitress.
'You already have one, miss' they said, the statement made in the hearing of whoever happened to be there. Vira-Lorr looked confusedly down at it while the waitress went away, right before she frowned. What... was wrong with her. As if she happened to notice that she wasn't alone, she looked up again and gave a smile that looked entirely forced.
"Oh, hello. Sorry, I ... uh didn't see you earlier. Please, join me." Something was definitely not right here. She looked incredibly confused.
2. MY KINGDOM FOR A BUG ZAPPER
"I hate bugs." It was official. She absolutely despised bugs with a passion, and it was really only for one reason more than any other. It wasn't that they were disgusting little vermin, or that they were disease carriers. She dealt with plenty of those. No, it was the plain and simple fact that... "There's always so damned many of them!"
When your primary weapon was a rapier with a pistol attached, you were much more of a single-target fighter, and right now there was a small flock of those bloodbugs trying to catch up to her. They were pesky, hard to hit and persistent as she shot back at one of them. "I could really use some help here!" she called out to anyone that might be in earshot.
3. HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
A moonless night filtered into the kitchen of the small home. It was only a single story, and certainly not as nice as her old place in the Cellar Door. However, it was comfortable and there was an obvious effort to make it as homey and livable as possible. A warm fire crackled nearby and she was currently in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled very deceptively of mushroom stock. As she chopped, she would occasionally pause to look out the window, a momentary flash of concern there, before it passed and she added a few more ingredients to the night's soup.
When the door opened, Vira-Lorr glanced through the doorway towards it and called out. "I'm in the kitchen. Any trouble out there today? We're not due for more crap for another week or so." The way that she said it, it was almost like she was just ... accustomed to curses. They were just normal. "I'll have to go back to Trench to get some more incense but it can wait." She glanced at her reflection in the glass of the window pain. Did she see a gray hair? Oh, that would be positively banal wouldn't it?
It was all so ... normal. Like it had been this way for years.
Wildcard)
Hit me up! Whatever you're interested in.
1
Hence.. this. Hence Ange spotting at least someone she knows heading into a place, and naturally following the figure, just so she isn't just awkwardly out by herself, unsure of what to do, still a little sore and fragile on the inside.
But no matter how much Ange still isn't feeling fully like herself - it's not like she can just ignore Vira-Lorr's current state. It might not be something huge, but something small does seem off about the other, even if Ange can't quite put her finger on it.
She nods slightly at the invitation before moving to quietly sit down, joining Vira-Lorr. She glances between the leaving waitress and then the figure of her friend, and only then slowly speaks up.
"Is everything alright?" Her voice isn't quite the usual deadpan either, still definitely softer around the edges than the usual.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
3
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Keith | Voltron: Legendary Defender | OTA
Keith didn't even realize he'd ended up getting caught by one of the plants, but he had been. After a while, he was acting tipsy and walking off balance, getting into weird belligerent arguments with locals, with comments like, "I don't care if I have to pull the door to get in, I want to push!"
=====
Trapped - CW: self-harm
Finding the discarded cocoon had been weird, but nothing truly alarming in Keith's mind. And it certainly wasn't anything he would have connected to the feelings racing through him the next day. He suddenly couldn't sit still, couldn't stay inside. Granted, he spent a lot of time out and about, this was a new sense of urgency and avoidance.
But it was deeper than that. It wasn't just being inside. It was being himself. It was being in his own skin. Everything felt tight, restrictive. Even his skin was too tight.
He started with stretching, like that would help... maybe loosen himself up. Maybe it wasn't his skin that felt tight, but his muscles. But that wasn't working. So then the scratching started. Rubbing, itching, pulling, shifting, twisting, pinching... Trying to loosen his own skin... it wasn't like stretching a shirt to get extra room, or doing a couple of squats to make the pants feel more comfortable.
The next day, Keith was getting desperate. And he had a knife. He had several, in fact. It didn't take much to get where he was by the end of the day, several cuts to his arms and legs... and he wasn't stopping...
By the next day, Keith was unrecognizable... and rampaging through the city...
=====
Home Is Where the Heart Is
Keith was getting really tired of these weird places he was getting sent to. He'd been on the River of Blood. He'd been in the Moss King's game house. He'd been in the Catacombs. He'd been in some twisted version of Trench. So many places...
It was getting on his nerves, honestly.
So, as he gasped and scrambled to get to his feet here in this new place, he could feel the frustration rising up inside him almost immediately.
"Oh, what now?"
=====
Wildcard
{OOC: Got other ideas? I'm open!
Home is Where the Heart Is
"Well... it feels familiar somehow. Like something out of the dream. But I'm not sure. If it's like that place, this shouldn't be as bad as how we got here." Here was hoping, though she didn't want to assume too much. "It would be nice if they could summon us for their little lessons in less dramatic fashion for once."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Trapped
Re: Trapped
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
cole | dragon age: inquisition | warmblood
cw: brief minor mention of a sick child; themes of identity/identity loss will possibly feature in some threads.
❥ you’re a truth speaker, with a heart of gold | trapped
note: Cole is here to help other characters through talking them down and offering them positive empathy/affirmations of self.
Please hit me up if you want to talk things out before threading!
❥ wildcard
You're a lost Soul
Why he's walking around town? Probably to get supplies to lock himself in the Mansion or for some other worse-case scenario. However, on his way out he see's that young man again, the one with the large brimmed hat, just sitting, watching.
He raises a brow, walks over to them, standing to the side as he watches. Finally, he says; ]
Uh, so...you just gonna sit there tapping your foot or are you trying to figure out which shopkeeper puts poison in the pies?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
you're a lost soul
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
you're a lost soul
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Sharon Da Silva | Silent Hill | OTA
▌ ▌ ▌ II. TRAPPED | the new century
A
B CW: gradual self-harm, fingernail trauma, can get worse depending on the direction of the thread. beasthood is likely the further along she is
▌ ▌ ▌ III. HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS | go tomorrow
▌ ▌ ▌ IV. WILDCARD
i
She stands with her wand pointed at herself, blasting cold air as she stares at the dress for a long moment. It's as if the question doesn't quite sink in at first, distracted by something. At a glance, it's not out of the ordinary for Luna. ]
... Not stupid, no. But... perhaps quite interesting. [ She's definitely fought in dresses and skirts before, but she imagines it's probably a lot more physical when you're a Hunter. After another moment, she twists her wrist, directing her wand at Sharon to blast her with cold air. She's looking quite miserable. ]
But if you're wondering about something more practical, you could try those dresses where the bottoms are like shorts—?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no pressure replying to this if it's been too long!
iv. cw: mild hallucinations
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
II
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
iii
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
III.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
iii. home
(no subject)
II-B!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Kageyama Shigeo | Mob Psycho 100
[it's not unusual for mob to feel like something is slightly off. the trench was an odd place that way, so much more active spiritually than his old home, reality thinner at the edges. so when he's walking down the street and gets the strangest feeling of disorientation he blinks once, looks around, and decides to simply keep about his day. getting caught up in what ifs never did any good.
like this, in this future, mob is no longer fourteen but a young man in his twenties. he's still prone to spacing out, to being a little too blunt, to maybe needing to get a clue but a lot has changed. he's grown, a bumpy road that lead to learning a lot about himself, accepting himself, all the things his patron baus probably approved of.
he isn't so scared of himself and his powers anymore, he smiles a little more openly rather than staying rigidly placid. he still doesn't use his powers much but instead of holding his aura in a lockbox he lets it stretch. when he's happy the air around him warms, when he's stressed out there's a little static.
there's a few places this little world might end up. if you know mob (even if you don't! maybe they became friends in the years following) he'll come by your character's house to visit. he'll have food to share, maybe ritsu made too much, or fruit since it's starting to get warmer.] I get the feeling something strange is going on.
[said so blandly, and for once not to cover something. when isn't something strange happening in the trench? best to go with it.
he's taken a job as something like a caregiver, for people recovering from corruption, or death sickness, or just normal sickness. he's very good at expelling curses, giving people a little boost of energy with his powers, being quiet and calming and making sure they get what they need and don't forget their gross weird trench medicine.
maybe your character is sick in some way and he's come to look out for them.]
[ooc; hello, hopefully i am doing this right, please feel free to wildcard this! beast attacks, random stuff, personalized. if miyagi-do is still a thing please feel free to say he is there as well, still learning and practicing.
i will be pretty slow so please forgive me there too!]
no subject
All I'm getting is...'pay attention'. But somehow not in an urgent way?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Izuku "Deku" Midoriya | My Hero Academia | OTA
3. Home Is Where The Heart Is | Old man Deku gets attacked by small children.gif
?. Wildcard
OOC: I'm down to wildcard something else! This was just my one idea. Plot with me here.Home Is Where The Heart Is
Paul knows intimately how mutable the paths of fate can be, how changeable the identity. He's come to accept that here in Trench, all that a person can count on is alteration and transmutation - except, perhaps, when it comes to how children seem bound to react to one of his partners. A metaphysically intriguing universal constant, to be sure.
Time has touched him lightly and kindly, this slender older man who retains a limberness and grace not often seen in people his age. He has his Bene Gesserit training to thank for that, the process of senescence almost as perfectly controllable as every other biological function.
The relevance of it here (besides, he's never too humble to admit, his innate preening vanity) is that it's also very easy for him to stoop and pick up another squirming, laughing child while he clucks his tongue chidingly at the others:
"What have I told you all, time and time again? Coordinate your attacks. Your battlefield discipline is appalling - look, he has a whole flank open."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Home is Where the Heart Is
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Luz Noceda | The Owl House |Paleblood
This was a feeling Luz was not used to. No matter what had happened to her, no matter how desperate she was to reclaim the old part of herself that was innocent, the thought of self harm would never entered her brain. After all, she knew who she was, she strove for better understanding herself.
But not this month. Here, she was fighting the urge to jump off her staff to see if she would finally be free. That was the crux of it: she didn't FEEL like she was in her right mind, like she was somehow being mashed into a paste in the body she was now, and this was something that she needed help with.
Luz had taken to doing something that was both very Un-Luz like and very like her: she'd strung her body up upon a crude sort of crucifix/scarecrow pole and tied her arms to the ends of the cross part, willing herself to free her body from its crushed prison.
Both unlike Luz and VERY like her.
"Let me go!" She called out. "I'm ready! Make me free!"
Home is Where the Heart Is
It had been a long time since Luz had come to Deerington, had been ushered into its craziness, and had begun her new life here, meeting friends, making decisions she had to live with, and eventually choosing to go see where this life would lead.
She knew that she was diverging from a path and understood that a part of herself would still be dealing with the isles. She wondered where that would go, but obviously she would never know that that was like, would she?
That was what she thought, until today. The door was there, staring her in the face, showing her the what if. She knew, in a way, that she was not the same Luz that had made the choice to destroy her door and be trapped in the Boiling isles. She'd come to Deerington, and that diverted her here. So now, facing the door, Luz wanted to sate her curiosity?
What would it be like, if she had never had Deerington weigh on her conscience? Would her life be better? Worse? Only one way to find out.
Luz stepped through, and saw the life she led.
Helping Eda and Lilith learn glyph magic, learning to get even stronger, just like here! But oh, there was more than that. More people, friends and foes alike. Hunter, a new boy that sought her and Eda...becoming an ally, and the person that the Emperor had ultimately doomed more than anyone could count.
Willow, getting stronger. Gus, getting taller, using his illusions to its best capacity. Amity...
Oh. Wow. Amity. Seeing her change from the girl that her parents had molded into someone she was proud of. A girl that lived life on her own terms.
A girl that loved HER.
Luz was breathless at that thought, but not shocked. She'd slowly come to terms with realizing Amity was her first true crush, only to learn that was not only reciprocated, that the two of them would have a relationship both different yet similar to her and Lexi. It was startling, but sweet and strong at the same time.
But more things came. Where she didn't have her guilt of killing the cannibals or the cult members, she unwittingly DID aid the very emperor, Phillip Wittibane, in his mission to kill every person in the Boiling Isles. It was trickery, and it was so raw and stabbing a feeling Luz found herself on her knees, gritting her teeth, staring with tears in her eyes.
"No. It can't be true!"
Luz moaned, and did her best to watch on. Please, something had to fix this nightmare!
Cho Hakkai | Paleblood | OTA
[This is not what you should be.]
[No - no, that's not right. This is wrong. It's some of those whispering voices. The sort everyone said were nothing more than blood effects. It shouldn't be this hard to ignore. But ever since he'd swept the cocoons off the porch, it's been harder and harder to ignore.]
Sorry - what was it you were saying? [He's either out at a market stall, at the boardwalk, or in the residential district. And the words come out more clipped. More biting, than usual. Despite how he's clearly working to make them sound as polite as usual.] I was - lost in thought.
[This is wrong, this is wrong, you are wrong--]
🌿🌿 you've set it running free | TRAPPED, Beast | Fleeing
[It's precisely what he'd dreaded. Why he'd always been so careful not to remove the little silver cuffs on his ear. He had no memory of the transformation, of the cause of it. Only that one moment his head had been screaming, the next... the city is confining. It's too Much.]
[What goes tearing through the streets looks an awful lot like Hakkai, even as a Beast. Though the vines trailing across exposed skin are thicker, more detailed - even sporting thorns. There are more of them, too. More vine than skin. More green than pale flesh. His eyes are mismatched now. One yellow, slit like a cat's, the other flat, empty green, a glassy stare. His hands are clawed - taloned, really - claws elongated far beyond that of his usual unlimited self.]
[If called out to, if stopped, his head whips around, and lips peel back off suddenly fanged teeth. He nearly lunges forward, lunges at anyone in his path, but pulls back, abruptly, to bolt again.]
[For the moment, it seems as if all the creature - the Beast that was Hakkai - wants to do is run.]
🌿🌿🌿 saints can't help me now | TRAPPED, Beast | Fighting
[It doesn't last.]
[Sooner or later, the Beast wins.]
[Sooner or later, there's nowhere to run. And the Beast slowly turns, mismatched eyes locking onto the nearest living target. It flexes a hand, as if to strike, but, instead, it slams the hand down onto the ground, palm pressed to the earth.]
[There comes a horrible skittering sound, like hundreds of insect legs. If you dare to look closer, the vines covering its skin are literally moving. They're flowing, off its body, down into the ground. Racing toward the target.]
[Towards the poor, unfortunate soul who happened to stumble onto it.]
8)
That was the first day.
By the second day Hakkai hadn't come back. Hadn't sent word on the little tech doohickey they all had. And that was ... unlike him. A Hakkai in his right mind would have let Gojyo know at the very least. Knew he would have worried.
It was time to search.
He asked the local lady at the fruit stand who was slowly getting to recognize him. Dead end. He wandered into town, looking for signs as casually as he could. But it was hard in a place like this. He wasn't familiar with it yet and it was so different from the kinds of towns he was used to. Despite the people that clearly inhabited the homes and businesses it felt ... dead.
So it was pure luck that he heard a familiar screech. He swivled on his heel and booked it towards that sound as fast as he could manage on the cobblestone streets.
His blood went cold. It wasn't Hakkai like he'd seen him when he arrived. The vines were in full thrush, the look in his eyes--- Gojyo'd seen it before. It never went well for anyone.]
Hakkai!
[He shouted, hoping to distract him. Hoping those vines would curve towards him instead so he could wrestle his friend down from a madness he knew he'd regret later.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
makima | chainsaw man
Son Goku | Coldblood | OTA
[It started sometime after Hakkai had swept those cocoons off the porch. Goku had been there at the time, had even stopped to kind of poke at them curiously before simply moving on with his day. He'd thought nothing of it, just some strange new animal local to this world that he'd never seen before. Nothing out of the ordinary for him. And then the discomfort started. Just the feeling that his clothes were suddenly too warm, the sensation of the fabric brushing over his skin causing an itch that he just couldn't seem to get rid of.
Every time he's about to open his mouth to whine and complain about it, something shuts him up, reduces it to just a frustrated whimper. He's currently taken to desperately rubbing at spots around where the diadem sits on his head, fussing with the golden band like it's annoying him in a way it never has before. Goku hates it, he wants it off, it's holding him back and he needs to be free...
The sensation is so distracting that he's not watching where he's going. He'd left their place because he felt even more stifled there, under the watchful eyes of his friends. He's still fussing with his diadem as he walks, so of course he ends up banging into people as he goes. And even though it's completely his fault, he whirls on them with a little snarl.]
Hey!! Watch it!!
[He says it in a way that makes it clear he's looking for a fight. He wants to tear something up, and maybe get a little torn up himself at the same time...]
TRAPPED (Fighting Seiten Taisei)
[Eventually it becomes too much. Goku gives in to the all-encompassing need to be free, and on top of everything else he finally tears the diadem off of his head. Immediately, Goku is gone. And in his place is the Seiten Taisei, clothes covered in blood.
Whatever else happens in that moment of transformation doesn't matter. Once he's fully transformed he launches himself up into the rooftops to survey the lay of the land. He can smell all kinds of interesting folks on the streets below, humans and monsters alike. And it makes Seiten Taisei's blood simmer with excitement; creatures to hunt and maim.
He raises a hand into the air, reaching up toward the sky in search of lightning to call down into the city. But his powers are different here, and instead of a bolt shooting down to meet him on the rooftop, the electricity bursts out from him and into the sky. It lights up his surroundings, probably catching the eyes of other beasts nearby. Exactly what Seiten Taisei wants. A challenger.
And as soon as he finds one... He makes a leap for them with a murderous roar, claws out and eyes practically glowing gold.]
(ooc: LMK if you want your characters to get real messed up/killed by Seiten Taisei! otherwise you're free to assume that he runs off eventually, lol)
no subject
He turns his head towards the unusual lightning, the flash reflected in his large green eyes. Danger Sense usually feels like a pricking sensation in his head. Here, it's a stabbing pain and impetus for reflex as something comes hurtling towards him. He activates his super strength in a flurry of harmless wind and sparks and leaps to the next roof.
There's a directionless ferocity in attacking anything that moves, but Midoriya doesn't think this humanoid is a Beast. Corruption can alter someone's mental state, but it tends to leave the physical body mostly intact. These are the only thoughts that flow under the surface of dodge and prevent. What exactly he's here to protect against, he's not too sure.
"Oi! Stop!" he calls roughly. "Who are you?" He's used to having enemies, but he doesn't know this one. "Can you hear me?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Shiro | Warmblood | OTA
[It's hard to say how much time has passed for Shiro. His hair's still white. His face is still scarred. He's still built like a brick wall with legs. But the scar has faded, and new ones have sprung up. The corners of his eyes have creases. He still looks tired most of the time, but that might be ingrained in his soul at this point - no matter how many years have passed in Trench.]
(1) KOZ'S ORPHANAGE
[Anyone in the orphanage will see a familiar sight. If you come in the evening, you'll find Shiro in the library with a usual pile of children. The fact he's reading what seem to be Trench Bedtime Stories is nothing unusual. Nor is the kid actually asleep against his shoulder. No, the unusual thing is the fact Shiro appears to have a set of old man reading glasses on for the duration of story time.]
[If he sees anyone enter, he'll nod - Hang on a minute - and be with you when he finishes up.]
(2) MOUSE HOUSE
[This time, you're on the street in front of Mouse House, when Shiro appears, dressed in what looks like his Paladin Armor. Though it's been painted, or dyed, or otherwise altered to be black with white accents now. The better to blend in, in the dangerous dark parts of the world.]
[He makes it a few steps up the path before the door opens. Before little voices are yelling in delight. He looks up, and any trace of fatigue drops from his features. He has enough time to drop his backpack and kneel - and he's then tackled by excited kids.]
(3) THE SHORE
Do you want to go back?
[An odd question. But, given you've found Shiro leaning against the boardwalk rail, overlooking the sea, maybe it isn't.]
[It's summer weather today. His clothing made for it, showing off the newer scars along his arms and legs. How, despite the peaceful times, he still looks worn.]
I think about it, sometimes. Wonder if I made the right choice.
It seems like this whole thing has just been made to make us wonder about our choices.
1
One arm held a basket of goods that she was giving to someone, to see to it that it was going to the children. She smiled and leaned against the doorframe, just listening to him talk with a sigh of contentment, in no hurry to stop him from storytime. He was one of the only people to come to this place so consistently, wasn't he?
Koz would be happy, she was sure.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
3
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
1
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
sansa stark | paleblood
i. bad blood
[sansa stands outside the wellness center with a fair few batcat kittens, all chasing (and catching) mosquitos under the watchful eye of her white raven omen, currently eagle-sized in case scooping is needed. lady, too, watches them assiduously, her thinly padded collar in light grey linen to match sansa's embroidered-dragonfly dress. she has a thin scarf in a darker shade of grey wrapped around her neck and head against the bugs.
her own batcat visenya, now some eighteen months old with her name picked out in pale bloodstone on a black velvet collar, darts around her, expertly snatching mosquitos out of the air. sansa looks out in the crowd.]
They're very good at catching bugs, and they seem to like the biting ones especially; I think they must have some blood in them.
[expert deduction sansa...she smiles out into the crowd. a bloodbug hums ominously closer, catching the eye of visenya the batcat.]
I started taking Visenya out with me, and I haven't been bit very much at all. These kittens are all old enough to go to a new home, and I think anyone would find them very helpful. The only trouble is––
[tail twitching, visenya launches herself at the bloodbug, neatly puncturing it with her fangs.]
Visenya, no! that will make you sick––
[sansa's eyes flash white and she wobbles a bit as visenya drops the bloodbug corpse, eyes momentarily blue. sansa blinks and smiles a little abashedly; her omen winter neatly flicks the bloodbug corpse away.]
They can't eat the big ones that have corrupted blood. But if they do, you only have to ask a Blood Minister to remove it.
[the crowd murmurs uncertainly, but the batcat kittens are very cute...]
ii. now I think we got problems
[perhaps you've managed to catch sansa by surprise, or you've said something to make her feel defensive––perhaps you've only made a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye (or lady's) that might for a split second look like an attack...regardless a seven foot floating tower has formed around her, heedless of the surrounding architecture. there is a bit of scrabbling from inside, and then sansa appears, swathed in light linen layers, sheepish.]
I'm very sorry; I'm afraid you startled me.
[she draws a breath, glancing from side to side.]
I think this is my teaching curse from Bausphomette, but I don't know what I'm meant to do to break it. Winter showed me how to leave the tower, but it keeps coming back. I'd very much like to ask Bausphomette about it, but I haven't seen them anywhere.