PLAGUES AND FREEDOM

[reddosmod]

MAY 2023 EVENT

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]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

TRAPPED

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

---

[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.]

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 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 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 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:

1. This effect is easily avoided by simply never finding a cocoon.
2. The condition worsens over a period somewhere between 3-7 days.
3. If a Sleeper transforms into a Beast, they can be cured of beasthood in normal fashions, or killed in normal fashions.
4. 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.
5. 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.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

CULICIDAE

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

---

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.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

WHEN: Any time in May
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.

1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. Your character does not actually die. Bausphomette is just being dramatic.
6. 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.
7. 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.
8. 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.
9. You may experience up to one calendar year at most in each doorway. Eventually the vision will fade.
10. 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.
11. 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.)

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

[fogsong]

[ Sharon's head snaps up the moment Scorpia's pincer grips her arm and her blue eyes narrow. ] Do you want me to die? [ It's a mix of shock and hurt and anger. She tries to rip her arm away. ] I have to do this.

[cuddlery]

[The way Sharon looks at her - it sends chills down her spine.]

Of- of course not! That's why I'm trying to help you!

[And Scorpia tightens her grip, in an attempt to keep a hold on her arm.]

J-just explain this to me, please!

[There can't be a convincing explanation for how what she's doing is actually good. But still, Scorpia wants to at least hear her out and her reasoning.]

[fogsong]

[ Scorpia's grip is too tight for her to rip her arm back but that doesn't stop her feeble attempts as her eyes dampen and her breathing picks up. ]

I-I can't! [ There's an ache to those words, expression twisting with anguish. ] I don't know how! [ She would if she could but Scorpia wouldn't believe her and Sharon sees that look in the woman's eyes—judgement, judgment, Sharon swears it's judgement. ] I just... I just gotta get out of my body. It's wrong, Scorpia. It's fucking wrong. They did something to it or I did something to it or they took something but it's wrong. [ The desperate, wild ramblings of a young woman at the precipice of animalistic panic. A heat begins to roll off of her in waves and god it just makes her feel worse. ]

[cuddlery]

[Worry burns at Scorpia's heart. She doesn't like using her strength like this, but if this is keeping Sharon from hurting herself, she'll stand her ground. Scorpia has trouble keeping up with everything Sharon's saying, and the main thing that seems clear is that something's gotten to her head.]

Out of your body?! Wh-where else would you even go?? [Aside from no longer being alive. Regardless, Scorpia tries to change tactics and calm her.]

Okay, okay, let's slow down here. Whatever's going on, we can figure it out without you hurting yourself like this. Why don't we find ourselves a Blood Minister or someone who might know what's going on! [She forces a weak smile, to try to reassure her.]

[fogsong]

[ It's so damn hard to put into words. She's not trying to kill herself but... Fuck. That must be exactly what it sounds like.

Still, slow down, Scorpia says. Slow down. Sharon nods her head. Okay. She can do that. She can slow down. ] O-Okay. [ She stops trying to rip her arm out from Scorpia's grasp but it looks like it's taking a lot of effort. Maybe all of her effort. ]

We can... Yeah. Yeah, we can see a Blood Minister. We just gotta hurry. [ Because something is building up within her and it's familiar. ] If I don't crawl out, something will happen. I feel it. [ She leans in close to the other woman, looks her right in the eyes, and for a minute there is something knowing in her gaze. ] If it happens, run. Okay?

[cuddlery]

[Her eyes are watery as she looks back towards Scorpia. But they shimmer with loyalty, with concern.]

I- I can't do that. I'm not going to leave you, Sharon. No matter what.

[She responds in a hush. She's not sure what she means about crawling out, but it's all very unsettling. All she can do is try to get Sharon to someone who can help in time. So Scorpia starts to move, and tries to give a gentle tug to Sharon's arm to get her to move with her.]

Come on, let- let's go find a nice Blood Minister!

[fogsong]

[ Sharon shuffles along, her breathing coming out in panicked wheezes. She's trying to focus on the taller woman, on the distant concept of getting help for this, but it's difficult. The only thing that really exists is the suffering in the now and everything else in the world is background noise.

They receive the occasional odd stare but the walk towards Lumenwood is almost uneventful. Sharon follows along dutifully, quietly. There's the occasional tug from her as if to pull away but it's rare. It's as they're crossing districts, though, that Sharon begins to panic and her actions become erratic. She starts to pull hard, heels digging into the cobblestone, and a powerful heat rolls off of her in waves like a heartbeat. Her skin starts to bubble as if she were held over a fire. ]

No, no nonono [ Her protests flow together and turn into a wail. Her skin begins to darken and crack. ]

[cuddlery]

[Scorpia wants to get her to help as soon as possible, but she's also worried about pushing her too much by rushing her, so she tries to keep at a steady pace as they go onwards, increasingly worried by her condition. She wonders if it might have been easier to stun her with her tail, but she doesn't want to feel like she's betraying Sharon - she's just guiding Sharon to the help she needs.

But then, things start to get much, much worse. Scorpia stops, immediately filled with concern as she feels the skin bubbling within her claw and sees what's happening to her skin.]

Wh-what's happening to you? [Now she's back in full panic mode, desperately trying to channel Coldblood powers to cool the air, anything that might help.] Sh-Sharon!

[Her grip loosens, as not she's worried about breaking her!]

[fogsong]

[ Her mind fractures as she shakes her head, mouth opening and closing as the heat wells and, finally, explodes out from her. Her clothes and hair dissolve in the heat as her skin begins to slough away. But there's something beneath her flesh, soft and white. As the skin down her back cracks and tightens and pulls away from the spine, wet butterfly wings unfurl in a splash of bright blue blood.

The creature that emerges from Sharon's crackling husk of a body is beautiful and tall. She's nude but the flesh of her breasts and thighs are weeping sores. Her hair is a ghostly halo of gold but her face is covered by a short, mask-like veil. With a flap of its wings, it hovers several inches off the cobblestone. It cannot walk, its legs fused together.

Look upon her, Scorpia, but careful: to gaze at her is to gaze at the sun and will result in almost thirty seconds of blindness. Between that and the choking heat that pours off of her, she's a bitch to get close to. But Scorpia is a Coldblood, she should be able to withstand the temperature. ]

[cuddlery]

[It's like a nightmare unfolding in front of her. Scorpia stares, transfixed in horror as Sharon transforms right in front of her eyes. Just like that, she's failed to look out for her.]

No!! [That's all she can get herself to cry out as she beholds Sharon in her new form.]

Sharon, Sharon can you hear m- ow!

[Of course she was staring directly her, and now she doubles over for a moment as she rubs at her eyes.]

[fogsong]

[There are shouts for Hunters, cries of Beast, as terror takes hold of the Trenchies around them but Sharon pays them no mind. Her veiled face looks upon Scorpia with a gentle calm, her long, arms reaching out to touch the older woman. Her touch is like fire, hot enough to melt through clothing, but it doesn't feel like she's trying to injure but comfort.

This is just how the world works. ]

[cuddlery]

[The entire world around Scorpia and Sharon is shut off to Scorpia right now, or else she would be trying to urge for any Hunters to stay back. This is her friend.

She's never actually seen any of her friends turn beast before, let alone right in front of her eyes, so this is really A Lot for Scorpia. She blinks as her eyes re-open, now just feeling the sting of tears. Not just that, but Sharon's touch. She looks up uncertainly, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking away for the sake of her own sight.]

Sharon...

[It's not like what she expects of a beast. She's not trying to attack her. She's calm... maybe she's not fully gone.]

Sharon, y-you're stil you. It's not over! I'm here for you. We are going to get through this!

[She says that with a fierce determination. The heat is nothing to her on top of what she's already been feeling, and so she tries to wrap her arms around Sharon's new form, to pull her into a hug.]

[fogsong]

[ Scorpia's arms hook under the massive butterfly wings and the beast is easy to pull into a hug. She doesn't try to resist. She doesn't stiffen or pull away. She just accepts it. She leans into it.

This close, she smells of fire and ash and the fresh, copper scent of blood. The clothes Scorpia wears may begin to catch fire this close to the beast but it's clear this isn't the beast's conscious doing. This is how she protects herself in a world that would kill her the moment they get close.

A melodic, accepting trill echoes out from the creature's greyed lips. Already, the heat is starting to dissipate, the wings are starting to fall. Scorpia's words don't make sense in her brain, not when her brain is just filled with the desire to bring peace through death, but the touch is... comforting. Soothing. ]

[cuddlery]

[She keeps her arms bound softly around Sharon, her pincers rubbing against her wings as she holds on desperately. If she can stop this, if she can help her and save Sharon from even more suffering...

Scorpia puts her all into holding on and focusing on a soothing energy. Her clothes may be burning up, but that's another concern that's far from her mind right now. The flames, the smell, it's all nothing to her. Right now, it's just Sharon. Pulling her back is the only thing that matters.]

I've got you. [She whispers softly. She doesn't know if Sharon can understand her now, but she feels that her actions carry the spirit of her message. She'll hug the beast out of her if it's the last thing she does!]

[fogsong]

[ The beast's strength seems to wane in Scorpia's arms. Her wings stop flapping and fold downward and her fused legs brush the cobbled road. She lays her veiled face in the crook of Scorpia's neck, her breathing labored and weak; dying.

It's not long before her wings begin to flake away, each piece reabsorbing into her body. She gets smaller and the heat dissipates entirely. Within just a few minutes, the beast is gone, replaced with Sharon herself, pale and nude and covered in a cold sweat. Her fingers dig weakly into Scorpia's clothing, clinging. ]

Told you I needed... [ Her voice is rough and quiet. ] ...out of my skin.

[cuddlery]

[She only clings tighter to Sharon as she feels her shifting, changing in her arms. Her own clothes are tattered and frayed ss the flamed die out.

She feels an incredible sense of relief surging through her once she feels a distinctly human form in her arms. Tears roll down her cheeks as she hears her voice speak again, as weak as it is.]

You're back. [She whispers with relief, giving a weary chuckle.] W-well I'm just glad that it's out. And not in you anymore.

[Scorpia holds her tightly in celebration.]

Now let's get you to that Blood Minister and get you some rest! [She hasn't realized that clothes might be helpful too.]

[fogsong]

[ Her nakedness is the last thing on her mind. A distant reality in comparison to the one right here. To the relief in Scorpia's tone. To the tears on her cheeks. Sharon can't help the way she pats at the other woman, her touch weak and gentle. ]

Do we gotta go to a Blood Minister now? [ She asks just as weakly as her touch. ] I hate doctors. I just wanna go home.

[cuddlery]

[She keeps a firm hold on Sharon for a while, just feeling overwhelming relief that the crisis is over and that she's herself again. Eventually she'll start to release her, while considering her idea.]

W-well... I guess the worst is over with now. If you feel like rest is all you need... then let's just get you back home. But you let me know if there's still anyone strange and I'll try to get some help to your home, okay Sharon? I- Things were real scary for a bit there.

[fogsong]

[ Scorpia releases her hold on her but Sharon remains pressed against the other woman, at her side, holding onto a pincer as if it were a lifeline. ]

I-I know. [ She affirms. ] I will, I just... [ She just needs to go home and curl up on the couch and forget the feeling of her flesh rendering and splitting and changing. That was how she'd died last time. ] Maybe you can stay with me for a little bit? [ The question comes out slow. Hesitant. As if she were afraid to ask. ]

[cuddlery]

[She doesn't object to Sharon staying close and holding onto her pincer. And she smiles warmly as she answers.]

Of course. [It's good for Scorpia, too. To see her off all the way, to make sure everything's really completely alright now.]

I'm here for you, Sharon, and that's not changing. I can even carry you back to your place if you want!

[fogsong]

[ Even in the haze she's in, she feels a swelling at the certainty in Scorpia's tone. When she says she can carry her, Sharon hesitates to ask but then: ] Could you then? Carry me? The... The gravel under my feet isn't so nice... [ And she's nude and becoming more and more aware of that fact as the moments go by. Luckily, it doesn't cause her much stress but it's certainly not comfortable. ]

[cuddlery]

Oh, of course! It must really hurt to walk without any... shoes...

[She looks down as she says that, and that's when the nakedness finally hits Scorpia. She blushes slightly.]

R-right, carrying you! I'll, I'll keep you covered and get you home!

[With that, she tries to scoop her into her arms bridal style!]

[fogsong]

[ Sharon wraps her arms around Scorpia's neck, burying her face into her shoulder, clinging to the larger woman as if she were a life raft out on stormy waters. Her brain feels like hot mush and her body aches as if everything she was had been stretched out and broken and put back together again as if it were putty. ]

Thank you. [ She whispers into her. ]

[cuddlery]

[Scorpia's embarrassment quickly fades in the tenderness of the moment. She holds her close while starting to walk back the way towards Sharon's home. Acting as the sturdiest, chilliest rock that she can be for her while she marches onwards, effortlessly carrying her forth. Scorpia smiles softly at her whispered gratitude, those words a warm reward for going through this whole nightmare with Sharon.]

You don't have to thank me - but I'll take it anyway. Like I said... I got you.

[And off they go, so Scorpia can help her begin to rest from this ordeal.]