Deer Country Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reddosmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2023-05-08 02:34 pm
reddosmod) wrote in deercountry2023-05-08 02:34 pm
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.)
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
Hey. Need anything?
[Keeping his voice low, and quiet. Don't want to wake the little guy.]
no subject
I was in town to drop off some of the proceeds, figured I'd pick up a few extra bundles of incense and stop by the orphanage. I don't get into Trench enough. You're looking well.
[She definitely kept her distance these days, not really from other sleepers. she just preferred to only see the Pthumerians when she wished to see them. A nice, measured distance.]
How have things been? I haven't seen Adam or you in a while. Koz still behaving himself?
no subject
[And that, not even Koz's magic can prevent completely. The sleeping kid in his hold doesn't seem to be having that problem, though. Snoring away.]
We're all right. Might've finally convinced him to adopt number three.
[Maybe. If he's lucky. He might have to settle for two, and add more hours to his schedule at the Orphanage.]
no subject
[She chuckled at the thought of he and Adam adopting again. It seemed fitting. The more that she'd known him, the more that Shiro just screamed out the 'dad energy' and the chance to adopt was a way to be that for so many.]
You'd adopt them all if you could, and we both know that. How old are your kids these days?
3
[It was an honest response.
Keith was also older... taller, almost the same height as Shiro, but not quite... still pretty muscular, even if he'll never quite meet Shiro's "meat Dorito" level of build. His hair was longer, and the white streak from his first death in Trench had widened to be more noticeable. There was also a permanent purple tint to the black, subtle, but noticeable in the sun. He had it pulled back at the base of his skull in a ponytail.
And the fangs... they'd never gone away after they'd first appeared.
He was also dressed for the weather, a few newer scars also visible across his exposed skin while older ones from home like the burn on his face and some of the first ones he'd gained in Trench had faded slightly with time. Next to him, Kosmo stood, sniffing at the breeze coming in off the ocean. The wolf was now almost the same size as one of the massive Nightmare steeds that were out in the forest.]
I think about it, too. Think about the people I haven't seen in a long time... people I'd want to see again.
[He leaned on the railing next to Shiro, supported by his elbows as he clasped his hands and stared out over the water. He turned after a beat, looking over at Shiro.]
Maybe it was.
no subject
[He sighs, heavily. Leaning more on the railing. At some point, he probably asked just how big exactly Kosmo would be getting. But by now, he's used to it. It's kind of nice to have another big protective animal around.]
I think about people, too. Mostly. [Allura. Pidge, Hunk. The Holts...] That's the worst part of all this, sometimes. I can't complain about anything else. But the people...
[He's got a life here now. Exploring the wilds, finding new places for the people here - researching. Family. It feels surreal sometimes. But there's always something missing. Always a locked door he can't bear to open.]
I still miss them. Every day.
no subject
[After all, Keith had still been getting to know his mom. Orphans didn't get second chances with their parents, and, yet, Keith had. He'd found Krolia, and they'd gotten time together. But, maybe he was being selfish, he wanted more. He'd missed almost 20 years of having her in his life. Two years stranded on a space whale, followed by those months traversing space back towards Earth before she'd left to help Kolivan... it hadn't really been enough to make up for that.
And, yeah... he missed his friends. It wasn't something he'd really thought he'd ever have, but he did. He had a 'family' back home that he wanted to see again.]
I miss them, too.
[He took a long slow breath in and then let it out slowly.]
Though... I mean, we've adapted, and we still have each other. That's... that's something.
[And they'd made a new 'family' here, too. Other people who were part of their lives who wouldn't be back home. That counted for something.]
no subject
[He actually sounds a bit more lighthearted about that one, leaning sideways for a second to elbow Keith in the side. Playful. Relaxed, despite the heaviness of the conversation.]
And maybe they'll get here too, down the line. We'd have to add onto the house again.
[Like they probably haven't already. Since there are definitely a couple adopted kids running around. Probably pets. Who knows how many other Sleepers taken in.]
[A new family is right.]
no subject
Maybe. [Keith wasn't sure how that would work. They'd been here so long now... What had they missed back home? Or would the others come from an earlier time? Closer to when they themselves had last been there? Those things could happen, too. Would it be weird to be so much older than the others? The idea of age differences and time slippage weren't foreign to Keith. They'd experienced them back home because of the abyss and then jumping in and out of the quintessence field in their battle with Lotor, but...
It was a lot to think about on top of what they were already talking about, and Keith wasn't sure he wanted to really think about all of it right now.]
I mean, would that really be a terrible thing? And it's not like we don't have another place. [The barn loft was still something that could be converted, and Keith did still spend time at Lance's. They'd taken down the third floor after the fire all those years ago, but it still had some extra rooms. And, thanks to Sasuke, they'd moved it over closer to Mouse House.] Maybe we should find someone to help us move everything around into one spot and just make a compound.
[Keith laughed at the idea, but he was also kind of half-serious. Darkbloods could do that, after all.]
no subject
[Apparently it's been long enough to where he can mention her, now. Not long enough to open her room again. But enough to talk more about her absence. It's hard to forget how close you were with someone - when you were the only two in the town for so long.]
[He's never going to be over her. In a platonic way. If that makes any sense.]
Hah, probably not. I don't know if "compound" is a decent word though - we'd probably have to move out of the city itself.
[Which isn't a super great idea, even now.]
no subject
Yeah. [He reached over and put his hand on Shiro's shoulder.]
We don't have to move out. We just might have to ask some other people to move out of a particular neighborhood and then we take it over. [He smirked, knowing full well that wouldn't happen.] Or we could try to just make our own somewhere... expand the city itself. Maybe a couple of darkbloods could help us with that.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1
When he wraps up and makes his way towards him Adam's still smiling.]
So how many kids did we adopt today?
no subject
[Eventually, the kids head off to bed themselves, except the one sacked out on Shiro himself. He hefts the child in one arm, standing carefully with them. They don't so much as twitch, just flop there like a sack of flour.]
I think this one decided to adopt us.
no subject
If we adopted every kid who slept on you there'd be no room in the house.
no subject
What can I say, I make a good pillow. [But he's amused too. The lines in the corners of his eyes all scrunched up.] Just got to put them to bed, then I'm all yours.
no subject
Pft. You're always all mine.
[There's a confidence in his voice that comes from years of rock-solid relationship. It's hard to believe that it'd been years since they'd been married, even longer since they'd started dating again.]
no subject
[But he's all grin, and knocks his hip into Adam's. It really is hard to believe they've worked. Somewhere along the lines, along the years, his fervent need to do better, to make it up faded. Relaxed.]
[Sometimes it still flares up. But today, it's all good humor.]
Want to help me with finishing monster wrangling? [Some nearby, awake, child makes growling noise.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
2
There's a bag of goodies slung over her shoulder. Every now and again, she brings over treats for the household. Most of the time, it's junk food. Other times, it's little gifts for the kids. Always, there's a bottle of something for the adults. ]
no subject
[Shiro straightens up - maybe a bit slower than before, but up he goes, hanging on to one of the kid's feet to keep them balanced.]
Hey, Sharon. Yeah, you are. Someone let a couple monsters out of the house that need wrangling.
[The kid on his shoulders makes a growling noise, holding out their hands like claws.]
no subject
Sounds like someone needs a talking to. [ She beams at the kids. ] I know for a fact that Trench couldn't handle these two being set loose. The city just isn't prepared. [ She lets the kid slide from her arms, their eyes on her bag, and her look turns knowing. ]
You think they'd wanna run back in if I told them I brought a couple boxes of Kraft mac & cheese? [ Knowing a few Darkbloods from Earth comes in handy these days. ]
no subject
No, it's not. We might have to look into warding the doors if they keep it up. [The child on his shoulder squirms, looking indignant.] They do stay in the yard, though.
[He's grateful for that much. Given how Trench is still... Trench and all. Then Sharon goes and utters the words mac & cheese and she has the kids' complete attention in an instant.]
Sharon, I think all three of us would go in for that.
no subject
Between Shiro's response to the mac & cheese and the kids' expressions, Sharon can't help the laugh that rolls up and out her throat. ] Then it seems I made the right choice 'cause I brought you guys a whole [ Whoops, she almost said 'fucking' here but quickly cuts it off before even the 'fu' is out of her mouth. Sorry. She's bad at self-censorship. ] case of 'em.
It cost me a pretty penny, though. [ She ruffles the hair of the kid closest to her as she looks down at them. ] I might have to steal the two of you for a weekend to make up for the cost.
[ Look, she just like to spend time with the kids and she knows Adam & Shiro deserve a quiet weekend on occasion. ]
no subject
[It passes quickly. And he shoots her a grateful grin.] Guys, what do you say? [Immediately, they pipe back with Thank you Auntie! They get the Mac & Cheese hunger from one dad, the manners from the other.]
Hey, for a present like this, I think we'd owe you two weekends.
[A fact that delights the kids. Listen, Dorito Dad's explorer stories are cool. But they like Hunter Stories too!]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)