SOMETIMES I WISH I COULD FORGET

[reddosmod]

JUNE 2023 EVENT

Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, some of last year's June Prompts are available for use. The dream demons from Prompt 1, however, are not as numerous, as the lingering hope has been carrying over into the new month. Remina's push to remind people of the past, though, has drawn some of them out in search of nightmares to feast on. Prompt 2 is not available, as those tunnels have been cleared of their items and the holes left by the earthquakes have been repaired. Prompt 3 is available as memories from the past are strong this month.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Deer Statuette with Candles]
[Image Two: Spooky Bloodbourne Town]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Hurricane Waves]
[Image Two: Standing Stones in a Field]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Antler-Horned Thumerian with a Cup]
[Image Two: Skull Made of Blood Screaming in Bowl]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN

WHEN: Anytime in June
WHERE: Anywhere in or outside of Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Horrific Memories, Out-of-Body Experience, Literally Any Possible CW in the History of Deerington

---

June is the month of remembrance. Remina is strongly present, as people face Hali's choice. Her specialty is the past, after all, reminding others of what's behind them, where they came from, and who they were. This year, it feels more important to remember what has been.

It may seem innocent at first. You're doing some chores around the house. You're running errands in town, or making a purchase. You don't think much of it, even, but, when you turn around, a small deer figurine catches your eye. You might think it's cute, or pretty, or hideous. You might admire its craftsmanship or level of detail. Maybe the art style turns you off completely. Maybe you go to pick it up and look closer. Maybe you ignore it.

If you choose to ignore it, you'll go about your day. A few hours later, you see it again. That's odd, isn't it? It's the same figurine. How did it get there? Did someone bring it along? Did it teleport itself? This will keep happening, too. No matter how many times you try to ignore it and leave it behind, it will appear somewhere else. You will never see it appear or disappear specifically. You will never see someone carrying it and putting it in place. It will just suddenly be there, like it had always been there and you just never noticed it before. But it will always be the same figurine. If you do make it to the end of the day without picking it up, and then go to sleep, it will be waiting for you on your nightstand when you awaken the next day. Someone really wants you to have it.

Should you choose to pick it up, whether right from the start or later on, you be pulled into a vision of the past. It could be Trench's past. It could be Deerington's past. Either way, you are there now, and you are in the thick of whatever's happening. Was it a great battle? Was it a plague? Was it a crazy event where people switched bodies? Was it just a normal day where people actually relaxed and had fun? It doesn't matter. You're there. You're you. And you feel like you're part of it. You cannot change the past, only live it, but you feel like it's really happening. And... maybe it is...

You see, these memories, they don't belong to any specific person who was there at the time. They now belong to you, as if you'd been there in person. And it's not just any vision. Did you stub your toe just then? That's a nasty bruise you wake up with later when the vision is over. Did you cut yourself? You might need a bandaid when you wake up. Anything that happens to you in the memory also happens to your body in the present. There is a very real danger here. You could even die.

Don't panic! You're not alone! You see, when the figurine activated, it linked randomly with another active figurine. Surprise! You have a companion. You're in this together. Will you be able to help each other survive? Or will you just both coast through, hoping for the best and that it ends soon?

But, you might ask, I've learned not to touch these kinds of things! I would never have a vision! Fear not. You can still have one! Some of the figurines are quite sensitive you see, and might activate just by your mere presence within a certain distance from it. Have fun with that.

FAQ:

1. The deer figurines are from Remina, and they're symbols of Deer Country's history. The smallest is about an inch in length or height, and the largest is 6 inches. They are made from various kinds of material (wood, stone, clay, metal) and can be in almost any kind of art style (cutesy, creepy, art deco, realism, etc). Some are painted. Some are natural.
2. The figurines are activated mostly by touch, but some are super sensitive and react to proximity, usually about a foot away. So, if one happens to be across the room, it's likely not going to do much. You have to get close enough to actually take a good look at it.
3. Events from the past can be from either Deer Country or Deerington. Old TDMs, old event posts, happenings mentioned in past newsletters, everything is up for grabs here.
4. Connecting to another figurine or figurines is completely random ICly. The character has no idea who they'll end up appearing in the past with. Plot away and have fun! It can even be more than just two people if you want to do a big group thread. That's up to the players involved.
5. Injuries from the visions will have an effect on your characters in current times. So if your character gets hurt while under the influence of the figurine, then they'll still be injured when they come out of it. Healing also has the same affect. If someone has the ability to heal or stop bleeding with first aid, then that will also be reflected on the character's actual body. That said, the reverse is also true. If someone finds another person in the middle of a vision (the person in the vision will physically be in a catatonic state) and sees them bleeding or being injured, then they can heal that person. The character stuck in the vision will notice while still in the vision that they are mysteriously healing. How strange!
6. Death in these visions is also real. Naturally, if a character dies in a vision, the vision ends. The character will remember nothing after that point. As for their body, it will go through the normal crystallization process and squid rebirth that a character would go through if they had died in Trench.
7. These "memories" are completely new! Remina, while she could share the memories of someone specific if she wanted to, is just trying to give you a general history of the world. So, what better way to learn history than to experience it? It's not Ruby's memories from Deerington that you're experiencing, though it can be if Ruby's with you and going through them. But, if Duo goes into a Deerington scenario, then it'll be as if he was actually there at the time, not just watching say, Shiro's experience of it. Consider yourself isekai'd.
8. The figurines will lose their power at the end of the month, once Remina's influence wanes. So, if your character is able to avoid them the whole month, they'll be safe! But, the figurines themselves can be kept if you want your character to have one as a souvenir.
9. Want to optout, but you know your character would definitely grab a figurine? Just have it so that they don't find a figurine. Remina is good, but she can't help it if someone just doesn't see it where she puts it, especially the smaller ones.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

THE PATH ONCE TAKEN

WHEN: Anytime in June
WHERE: Begins Near the Beech, Going to Somewhere Else
CONTENT WARNINGS: Hurricane, Possible Drowning/Death, Horrific Monsters (The Pthumerians are kind of monstrous after all)

---

For some very few, the experience might be harrowing because of how familiar it is. For others, it is a fresh and new horror. As you are traveling along near to the coastline, perhaps wondering when the next catch of fish will come, or perhaps wondering why there have been no new arrivals in some time, you see it. It is an old boat, one fit more for a river or a lake than for the ocean's turbulent tides. There is a floating specter of a figure seated atop the prow of the boat, one hand holding a long river pole. It gazes back towards you and under the hood you can almost see one lonely eye, before it is shrouded in darkness. Remina.

You are not compelled to go. Riding the boat is a choice. It is a simple matter to ignore the offer, but it is given all the same. Should you take the boat, you and whoever joins you will find yourself passing through a thick and soupy mist in the veiled darkness. It is bone-chilling and time seems to flow differently. Through the passage of the waters, you can see countless vessels. Some are populated by twisted men and women who were once pirates, each of them dashed upon the rocks. None ever reach the shores of Trench. Other vessels, you watch as they sink around you. Countless explorers, some of them human, and some of them very much not, all of them are lost to the waves. The farther you travel, the more a storm looms in the distance. It rages, seethes and howls with the might of a hurricane, the likes of which you have never seen. You near the first crest of the waves, and a look back finds Remina gone. You are alone, braving the waves.

THE UNKNOWN GUARDIAN: MARIANA

This is not so much a direct fight with the Pthumerian, as encounters in years gone past were. Unlike other guardians, Mariana does not confront you directly, and instead it is a battle of attrition, one of survival. The waves bear down on you, and the moment you take to the pole, to the oars, you feel yourself surge with the knowledge of how to steer the vessel, but not where. Great waves, high as small skyscrapers, will attempt to bear you down and you must choose whether to ride them and rise over their crest, fail and be dashed to the rocks like so many who have sought the unknown before, or run. The winds that rage have the full force of a hurricane, but the boat barely seems to keep you from flying out of it. Still, she tries to buffet you with the fury of countless detritus being hurled with incredible force. Lightning streaks from the clouds above, and you may very well be forced to keep the boat from being burned to a cinder. But, like the Guardians before, Mariana can be bested. There is only one true way to do so. You must persevere and maintain courage in the face of the unknown and bear through the storm until you reach the calm of the eye. Only then does Mariana's wrath fade.

Within the eye, you feel Remina's presence return. The floating boat tender navigates the way to a small shore. It looks like a small, verdant island with standing stones. There are women there, each of them robed. All but one of them feels deeply familiar somehow, though as you come to the shoreline and meet them, three of them stand out. One is impossibly tall, robed in white. A second stands beside her, dressed in the robes of a nun rather than the druidic garments the others favor, glaring at the white-robed one. The last is only slightly shorter than the white-robed, dressed entirely in black.

"You cannot do this," the nun says, though the white garbed woman ignores her, smiling at the sister in darkness. "Once this doorway is opened, it will be forever open. A gash. A wound. We do not know what else may come through."

"The one our daughter will bring into that world. She will control that path. In the dream, she will be as a god. We will see the truth before us. Do it." The white-robed one sounded almost commanding, and all around bowed save the one robed in darkness. Even the nun bowed, sullenly. Two of them knelt with swords, burying them in the soil, and power flowed from each of them towards the dark one, a sound like a key being fitted to a lock, and a doorway opening. The dark one nodded once and reached out over the ocean. She pulled back her hood, and the hideous visage of Marian stared out into the deep, the water parting to form a path. From behind her, the gathering rose and began to pass through, led by the one in white. At the end, only one who looked so much like the boat's tender, the nun and the dark one remained.

"Until the child is ready, I will hold the passage. You will hold the key," it said, looking back at one of the ones with a blade. She turned to the nun and stared at her. "And if that day never comes, I will hold the passage forever." The larger of the two with blades rose, nodding and the nun simply sighed, following as they departed after the rest.

As the vision concludes, you are left there in a small grove. Remina is now floating between the standing stones and looking at you quietly. "I think Mariana always knew she would hold this passage forever. But, a promise is a promise. The door will be unlocked soon." She will then wait to ferry the Sleeper back through a thankfully less dangerous and choppy sea, and when they return it will feel and seem as if little more than an hour has passed.

FAQ:

1. The "Battle" with Mariana will not result in any harm to the Pthumerian. She does not engage directly, but simply uses a torrential storm to protect this secret.
2. The threat here is that of a Hurricane the likes of which your character has never seen. Massive waves, Wind, Lightning, Rain, Flying Objects are the threats that are faced. The boat makes it possible for the character to navigate the storm, but they can die here.
3. If you die in the storm, you find yourself waking the next day on the shore with normal death effects. You may attempt again and again until you succeed during June.
4. Remina will not answer many questions. She is as enigmatic as ever, though she will confirm that this version of events is how she remembers them transpiring, not reality itself.
5. It is possible to confirm and recognize that the Doorway, Reckoning, Mariana, the Pthumerian Queen, Mother Mercy and Remina are all present amongst others in this gathering. If one searches, any female Pthumerian may be seen somewhere in the crowd. The Doorway and Reckoning are the two who assist Mariana with their power, and it is Mariana who creates the passage.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

A PROMISE KEPT

WHEN: Any time in June
WHERE: Cassandra
CONTENT WARNINGS: Pthumerians, Blood Rituals, Power Loss, Monster Transformation

---

Hali returns again once more during the month of June. He is attended by a second Pthumerian. The two of them remain in the heart of Cassandra, and there is enough hushed whisper that anyone in Trench or in any of the surrounding regions can easily learn that he has returned. Rather than seek out the Sleepers, he seems content to wait for them to approach and to make known that he wishes for them to visit with him. The second does not speak, though Hali introduces her as the Slumbering One. They nod once, but seem almost bored and disinterested by what is going on, staring off into the distance.

"It seems I may have been unfair to ask you what was asked before." Hali bobs his head towards the sleepers who approach. "It seems that many wished one thing, and others another. It is fortunate that the Slumbering One has awoken, yes?" He makes a sound that is closely akin to nails on a chalkboard. You aren't sure, but he might be laughing. "The Sleeper has agreed to undergo the binding ritual, to claim a new place to slumber beneath the earth, as does the Tower. And I will create the seal myself, to block off a small portion of this land, free as promised." It seems that the offer has been extended to the sleepers to grant both prizes. "Should you wish to suggest a location for the new city you would found, we will hear your suggestions."

It is at this point that the Slumbering One notices that there are people present, turning its gaze towards them. It extends the chalice in its hand and offers a second one to Hali. He takes it and both of them hold out a cup towards the sleeper. "You are not required to give of your blood. However, should you do so, there will be a return. However, only give to one of these, not to both." Hali turns to look at the sleeper. There is a crease in his features, almost as if he were annoyed a little, but it passes. Always a choice with this one.

If the Sleeper gives blood to Hali They will experience intense pain, enough to cause them to double over completely in agony no matter their resistances. For the next forty-eight hours, they will feel as if they were Warmblooded and without any impact of the monthly blood changes. They will experience a complete cleansing of corruption and not feel any push towards Beasthood. Their blood-based powers and even their canonical powers will not work during this period (unless required for survival). Their bones will ache and they will undergo a light fever during this time. At the end of this, they will awaken two days later with a small river stone with a carved symbol that looks like three legs emanating out from a head in the center. A voice echoes in their mind. "The Place set aside for you is one where none of us may know it exists. Hold this token, and you will know the way. After the first, you will not need it again and may show any but us the way." So long as the stone is found, it is impossible to get lost while seeking the protected location.

If the Sleeper gives blood to the Slumbering One They will experience the opposite effect. Immediately, they will undergo a bestial transformation, though they will retain their will in the process. They will not lose their minds, and are capable of remaining in control, though they are in their full beast form and might very well alarm others, causing a fight (or if so inclined, they could very well pick a fight). This transformation will last for twenty-four hours, during which they will feel as if their blood powers are particularly strong, but must seek to avoid the attention of the Hunters. The next day, they will awaken, finding in their grip the handle of a fresh, new Lantern. A guttural voice speaks in their mind. "For our new future." The Lantern is itself a normal lantern, capable of making a lantern location, but it will NOT work in Trench, and only in the new city.

F.A.Q.

1. There will be another poll because of course there will be! It will stay up until the end of the month.
2. The poll comes in two parts: Do you want the "New and Thriving City" to be in the Outpost, in Riteior's City, or in a completely new location. The second question will be do the same, but for the location that will be sealed off from the Pthumerians.
3. If, by some freak chance, there's a tie and somehow one location gets the same number of votes for both questions? We'll laugh and figure something out.
4. Hali is not feeling quite as talkative, but he will indicate that though this process will drain him, he will return to full strength in time and remain in Trench and the New City, as there were Sleepers who seemed interested in his well being.
5. The "Slumbering One" is not willing to talk or answer questions whatsoever.
6. You may receive only one reward.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

everything old is new again. ( click on titles to expand )

[opheliac]

i. ❝ i hate you so much right now! ❞
• BLOOD EFFECT: hostile towards warmbloods + vilebloods.
(please make a note what blood type your character is in subject line! non warm + vile can tag this prompt too!)

( she's been irritable since she got up this morning. jinx slept fine, but waking up wasn't its usual ease with vi's calming bloodstones nearby. it kept her from growling and kicking the blankets off herself, but the sour mood is sticking to her like glue that not even washing her face or showering can peel off. and when she exited out of her home and loomed a little outside of the rookery, her frown deepened. something about that place was nails on a chalkboard, but she couldn't make heads or tails what that something was. the way its built? how big and fancy it looks? someone inside? jinx wasn't necessarily great terms with the princess so maybe... it had something to do with her, right?

whatever it was, she left there in a haste in high hopes it would brighten her mood. spoilers: it did somewhat. although, maybe her favorite spot will help cool her head a bit. as she sits on a railing with a pistol twirling on her index, the blue-haired girl watches sleepers and locals down below at the canals, renting or going in and out of boats. her main attention are the ones who are building their own, wondering if it'll take them all day or if the finishing product would be worth the wait. it better be. )

ii. ❝ my battery is low. i'm going to a place nearby. gotta go! ❞
• EVENT: misfire/omni malfunction. cw: letter c is NSFW. and letter e is out of context

a. bullet, grenade, or rope? 🤔
b. yeayeayeayeyaeyaea listen. can u skip the boring stuff and get to the GOOD stuff of this convo?
c. so. remember when u had sex like waaaaaay back? is there a. technique to. eating a girl out? just. asking...
d. whats with this place and art?! i spent HOURS painting my masterpiece just for it to be gone like that? looks like i have to paint the person whose responsible for removing it! 😡😡😡
e. come on!!! all u have to do is rub him down. u cant go wrong w/ that. he'll love it. trust me.

iii. ❝ i want to break you into pieces, bite me. ❞
• TMD: eat me
❝ If you eat a red bean bun, you start to hear the thoughts of Sleepers around you. These thoughts may just be surface level musings, but the closer in proximity or in emotional closeness you are to them, the deeper those thoughts become.❞

( it's rare for jinx to count herself as lucky, being a jinx and all. but maybe that is slowly turning around when she just so happens to be at the beach with the locals handing out buns for sleepers to chow down. and the teen wastes no time in swiping one out of their hands, one would be crazy to not take an offer of free food. the red bean bun has an... interesting texture to it, still good, but definitely something she isn't use to eating. it's something that isn't fruit or fish, so. keeping away from the crowd, she chews peacefully with it in hands -- looking onward to the ocean, thinking to herself. )

'I wish I had somethin' to wash this down with.'

iv. ❝ i'm bigger than my body. i'm colder than this home. ❞
• EVENT: trapped (LOCKED TO SANSA). cw: self-harm

( getting out of bed had been the hardest thing to do these days. because being here feels wrong and although it's been said time and time again that death isn't permanent here, this just... isn't right. the voices had quieted down since her death -- nothing but lulled murmurs she can't quite understand even if she wanted to. jinx's been staying in the rookery the last few days, something about being in her treehouse alone really has her skin crawling. or... maybe it's the fact she died has her feeling this way. although her eyes' been fixating outside of the window in the main room, her fingers been idly clawing away at her wrist -- not breaking skin, but white traces of her nails going over and over the same spot is noticeable up close. )

( being indoors or, well, just being herself is really rattling her. and jinx is trying her damnest to not think too heavily on it -- maybe she just needs something in her stomach. because who knows when she actually had a decent meal.

the last thing she recalls eating is picking out little pieces of bread, fruit, or fish. or maybe she's dehydrated again, that's a possibility. her omen's been popping in and out like clockwork to refresh her memory about her fluids. there's a chance she's hitting that mark of needing substance. despite it, she doesn't move or make any sort of effort to. the only gestures to her is her fingers grazing along her skin, pressing harder by each stroke. )

v. ❝ i can remember when we had, we had it all. u & i. ❞
• EVENT: winter mourning (memshare)

❝ in this gothic underground city, we all sin.❞ ➔ (ekko + jinx fight)
❝ i, too, once had a daughter.❞ ➔ (jinx surgery) cw: needles, hallucinations, + trauma
❝ don't cry, you're perfect.❞ ➔ (end of S1 spoilers part 1)
❝ i am the monster you created...❞ ➔ (end of S1 spoilers part 2)

vi. ❝ ruler of my heart (make me your God. i can give you everything). ❞
• EVENT: speed dating. ➔ dating profile

( her chipped polished fingernails drums idly on the table, her other hand supporting her cheek with her inattentive gaze onto the cards in front of her. this whole thing is such a complete waste of time, and she is the type of girl who really can't stand having to sit still.

but it's said that after ten minutes of this, she can just hit the button and be on her way. that is exactly what jinx is planning to do here. maybe if she tries to think about guns or fireworks, this will go will faster. the only problem this, this "speed dating" hour won't start until her "potential love interest" wakes up from their slumber. she has a half of mind to walk over and shove them awake so they can get this thing going. )

Hey! — C'mon, let's get the show on the road. Bomb's a tickin' and I don't wanna miss the explosion.

ii.e

[fogsong]

Rub him down? [ ... typing typing erasing typing again ] Listen, I'm sure he'd love that but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of... you know, intimacy with him.

iv.

[dohaeris]

[it's the weekend, and that means sansa spends her days at the wellness center. it's nice to get out of the house and talk to people, and sansa is in a good enough mood when she returns to the rookery lady at her side, thinking idly about dinner. last month there were a lot of worrying curses, with bausphomette being busy with the cocoon-visions or perhaps helping hali with the sealing spell. this month remina seems mostly interested in spiriting people away to various points in trench's past.

so she's very troubled to find jinx picking at her skin as sharon had occasionally fallen into last month, as they worked out the way to treat her (also surprisingly cocoon-related?) curse.]

Jinx?

[sansa rushes across the back room, elaborate chatelaine jingling against the beaded embroidery on her grey linen dress with belled, elbow length sleeves, her bloodstone 'stole' strapped over her shoulders, and crouches down in front of jinx. lady follows suit, whimpering.]

Are you all right?

[she glances around for mr. bananas...]

iic (cause this'll be awful)

[threelayers]

[She barely even realized she was in a memory of the past, or of the haywire screw ups of her omni. Seriously, this was just how life in Trench was sometimes. Seeing the question, she laughed silently and dragged her fingers through her hair.]

Jinx, girl, seriously F U.
It hasn't been THAT fucking long since I've had sex, you know.
Why the hell are you asking me?

[No, seriously, why was she asking her? It wasn't like she didn't have options on getting advice in that category!]

iii

[siriusly]

-t the locals still have their autonomy and faces, so it's not the same. That has to be a good sign - a better sign.

[Manabu, bean bunless, is ruminating to himself right at the edge of the tide, just shy of getting his boots kissed by foam. he's bristled and seemingly primed to take some kind of action, but is currently stuck on the part on deciding which one.

his gaze is out at the water - at the shape on the water. that boat...if it counts as one. skiff, maybe? whatever it is, it's new. it's a sign.

a good sign? better one? that's what he's trying to figure out before jumping into action.]

Sharon Da Silva | Silent Hill | Coldblood

[fogsong]

▌ ▌ ▌ I. Everything Old is New Again AKA: A deer figurine takes us all to Rapture (EVENT PRELUDE & INFO)

I.A We're just in a tunnel

[ It's chilly. It's wet. And it's stunningly beautiful. Most of the underwater city that's visible from this tunnel is lit up. There are blooms of jellyfish in the distance that glow against the city's backdrop. There's so much life beyond the glass.

Sharon presses her palms against the curved, glass walls, fingers splayed, a wide, childish curiosity in her stormy eyes. She points out a shark in the distance with all the excitement of a child on their first aquarium trip. ] Holy shit! Did you see that!?

I.B Gatherer's Garden cw: willing injection of unknown substances

[ The walls of the atrium are covered in billboards, each one lit up, vying for the attention of shoppers that won't ever come again. There are ads for cigarettes and alcohol, high fashion, and something that tells you to "come bite the apple"—whatever that means. The ceiling above is made of thick, reinforced glass perfect for gazing up at schools of fish, the occasional shark, and one massive whale.

Every now and again, a song will echo out from the upper atrium. It's always the same old diddy followed by a mechanical, enthusiastic child's voice. Any who are curious enough to investigate will locate a Gatherer's Garden, lit up in shades of pink and red, and flanked by a pair of child statues. Sharon Da Silva is leaning against one statue, a large syringe in her hand filled with a glowing red liquid. When she notices someone, she looks up fully and shoots them a half-grin. The expression looks dangerous in this light. ]

Have you seen the ads? [ They are scattered all around the underwater city (Incinerate, Houdini, Electro-Bolt, Variety). ] Could be fun.

[ That's it. That's all she says before she plunges the syringe into her arm. The red, glowing liquid disappears into her. Everything is fine for a moment and then she doubles over with a gasp, pain searing through her.

Distantly, she thinks to herself, "Huh. That might not have been a good idea." ]

▌ ▌ ▌ II. Nightmares

II.A CLOSED TO TARO

[ Sharon remembers this from last year, the nightmares and the monster associated with it. The moment Taro tells her about what's happening, she immediately requests he come to her place. They have options to discuss.

She's already poured them each a glass of tea and has set out a few sweets on the coffee table. She sits next to him. ]

There are two ways to take care of this curse, Taro. I can try to kill it quickly... [ A heavy pause as she drops her gaze down to the tea in her hands, voice tightening briefly. ] but it could kill you, too. [ This is evidently not the one she wants to do regardless of how reckless she's been feeling. She'll risk her life with no issue but she won't risk his. ] Or we can do a ritual together and face your nightmares head-on.

[ But... this is his choice. ]

II.B CLOSED TO MACHI

Nightmares, regardless of the name she wears, were the single true constant of her life. It doesn't matter how her day goes, if she falls asleep next to someone who matters, or if she feels safe, she is haunted the moment she drifts away.

This nightmare is painfully, achingly familiar. She's walked this one before. It's Trench. Burning. The roar of the fire is oddly muted and heat feels more like a memory of it: distant and hot but no real burn. There are shadows of people in the buildings but there's something menacing to them. For some reason, they're always facing Sharon's direction. No matter how far away she is, the shadows always face her. It makes it easy to find her no matter where in the dream one is.

She's sat on the Boardwalk, facing away from the burning city. Watching an ocean that glows as if there were fires burning under the rippling waters.

Everything burns in her nightmares.

▌ ▌ ▌ III. WILDCARD

[ If there's something else you're interested in, another prompt or an idea, feel free to smash it into me! ]

i.b

[dohaeris]

[sansa skitters into the room in patent leather party shoes, looking appropriately dressed for the setting but not really anything else. somehow her hair has been curled and pinned in a faux-bob popular in the early 1920s––remina is known to be a bit of a stickler for accuracy. but sansa isn't concerned about her loose drapey clothing or smoothed-soled shoes––she can't find Lady, or even feel her anywhere. in fact sansa can't seem to sense any creatures, anywhere. without lady's senses augmenting her own or the prospect of animal allies nearby, she feels incredibly vulnerable, and it takes all her strength and training to keep from panicking.

she's relieved to see sharon, at least, who will have weapons training even if she's lost her own powers, too, though sansa remains skeptical that an ordinary girl of her own size can adequately defend herself, let alon sansa, from the threats of king's landing, let alone trench.]

Sharon! Have you seen Lady––?

[and then sharon stabs herself in the leg and doubles over in pain. sansa scurries over towards her, crouching down to check her temperature and pulse. she hadn't really been able to master any medical ninjutsu geared towards physical healing with lady sakura, and certainly nothing so complicated as counteracting poison.]

Are you all right?

[she glances around at the posters sharon mentioned. they do seem very enticing. it would be a very obvious sort of trap, if it were one. she considers the situation. only a patron could strip her of her powers so completely and send her to some place unknown in trench. the patron of this month is remina; she doubts another patron would try anything like this in her month. what sansa knows about remina is that she considers certain choices and actions to be right; if this were never mind, they would likely be rewarded for trying new things and expanding their knowledge base. if it were the moss king, it would likely be a trick, but one with a clue similar to the sort littlefinger used to leave for her in his lessons. likely there'd be a particular vial remina would want them to take, but sansa doesn't know remina well enough to puzzle out an answer to this. perhaps remina would send them back in time if they chose the wrong one?]

II.A

[hachitaro]

Well, I've been dead before. ... I don't recommend it. Zero stars.

[He smiles thinly, fingers curling around the glass. It's hard to decide which is worse - dying or letting her see some of what he's been dreaming about recently.]

[Part of him whispers that she deserves to know. The other part wants to shield her. She's a child - but she's not, she's very much not - and to top it all off some of his nightmares are... embarrassing.]

I'd say you don't want to see them, but you've seen most all of my secrets.

1B

[onerthes]

Yes, I saw the ads and I remember this place and... oh...

...you just did that didn't you?

[Vira-Lorr didn't have the sense of wonder as she stood in the dank, fetid depths of Rapture. This place carried very little in the way of pleasant memories for her. It had been one of the last times she'd ever seen Raphael in the flesh, after all. Her powers had been shut down yet again here, and there'd been those damnable splicers, the ...

Ugh. She looked on as she saw the girl doubling over and almost went to her, but stopped short. No, she remembered. She only remembered one thing, but that was that the powers were hard to control.]

Breathe. It's going to hurt like hell at first.

[Taking a step back. Fuck, she wasn't sure if she could plunge one of those into her again. Not after what she remembered. Of course, others had gotten it worse than her...]

Abigail Williams | FGO

[iaiafhtagn]

I – Everything Old is New Again (Scene can be freely set and changed as desired)

[Abigail should have figured something would happen the moment she accepted the figure. It was a gift, she told herself at the time. But sometimes gifts also come with a cost. The gift in this case, seemed to hinge on whoever else she had been stuck with. That, and the whims of whatever was happening around them.

Her three eyes swept this way and that. Clearly attentive, if not mildly confused.]

II – Giving Blood to Hali

[This sucks, everything ached, she feels weak, and there’s a voice telling her that she needs to reach a safe area. Still, she keeps tight hold of the given token. Whatever it is, it seems to be working as some sort of charm?

Something that would show her the way to safety.]

There’s no time to waste.

III – The Witch and The Painting

[She always did enjoy watching Miss Hokusai work. Watching her brush dance and move across her canvas. Creating different things from a few paints and knowhow. In her minds eye, her brush mimicked the painter’s. But the end result would simply not be the same.

She was still trying, of course. Her brush continued to move itself as she slowly began to cut herself off from others.

It was just her and the paint, nothing else.]

Everything Old...

[onerthes]

[When she looked around, she could see something very much like a town out of the 1950s. Across the street was an ice cream parlor, complete with an oversized cone as some sort of decoration. The women walking by was dressed in pastel colors, the style a conservative and nearly identically themed sort of set piece that matched all of them in in prim business suits that could have been in an episode of the Mad Men.

What was strange, though, was that they all seemed faceless in a way. Oh, they smiled. They had lips and eyes. They spoke to each other in chipper tones. But, every time they looked in the direction of Abigail, there was a hollowness to those eyes, like they were without souls, and their smiles always had a slightly sinister edge to them.

A familiar figure padded up beside her from behind, three eyes staring out at the faceless sea.]

I do not miss them.

(OOC: Heh. Thought I'd introduce Abigail to Deerington itself. We can do an actual curse, or even the awful blood tides of October washing in, if you like, or just the creepiness of a world made of a child's nightmares.)

The Witch and the Painting

[imaglyphwitch]

[Well this was something that was right in Luz's wheelhouse.

She hadn't painted as much before as she did now: it was once a thing of simple pleasure, and over time became a kind of therapy. She'd draw pretty backgrounds, but she would also draw out the bad times, the monsters, the river of corpses (thank you Deerington). This was a way of reminding to Luz that bad as they were, to keep them inside and only relive them in nightmares would be a bad idea.

Seeing Abigail doing this immediately caught Luz's attention. She sat down and watched her at work, not saying anything.

Luz knew not every creative person was able to be engaged in conversation while at work, so she was just watching for right now, curious at what Abigail would put to canvas.

Everything Old is New Again (CW: Various, Gorey, Awful Horrors)

[onerthes]

F.E.A.R. (CW: Poisonous/toxic air)
Vira-Lorr was caught off guard by the statue the first time it happened, so it was almost a relief that she found herself where she was, right up until the reality of it dawned on her and she sighed visibly, her hand opening the door in front of her into what looked like a very old concrete bunker on the outskirts of town.

She looked back at the skies, blood red as they were. The air was noxious, unpleasant and it reeked of ink. She motioned for whoever had appeared with her to come inside with her. "Quickly. We should find gas masks. Ugh, I hate this place so much..."

Denial (CW: Mental Anguish at the loss of a child leading to hallucination and denial. VL's head is not attached.)
It was an office in a well apportioned townhouse. An old fireplace crackled softly with the flare of a log breaking, sending sparks upwards slowly into the brick. On the nightstand was a jar of strawberry jam, an old red walkie talkie and a half-filled bottle of scotch. Vira-Lorr was standing in a corner of the room, though something was very wrong. She held her head in the crook of her arm and a high necked collar concealed the damage to her neck. She looked on the verge of tears.

Seated at the table was a man in his forties, attractive in a pedestrian sort of way. He had a lit cigar in one hand that he wasn't smoking, and a glass of scotch in the other. Looking at the fireplace, he seemed not to notice either of his guests at first, swirling the drink once while Buddy Holly played so loud it drowned out the sounds from the streets below. One glance out the window saw fires sprouting around the city, monsters screaming through the streets, people driven insane and fighting for their lives.

"She will wake up," he murmured as the shadows of his body flickered like tentacles in the firelight. "The machines were wrong." Vira-Lorr just sighed and turned her head to regard the other guest.

Descent into Hell (CW: Zombie Carpet. Blood, Gore, Zombie Horde, Resident Evil Licker Monsters.)

Why the hell was she rappeling down here?!? Vira-Lorr descended along the rope, looking sick to her stomach as she came to rest on a hill, her feet not quite touching the surface. She floated in mid-air there, tugging herself free of the harness and yanking free a blade from her back that looked like an over-sized cleaver. It flared to life, flames dancing along it as she tossed what looked like a pick to her partner.

Her eyes were alive with an emotion. Terror. "Don't look down unless you feel something shift. Keep the lights up, and I'll keep them back. But we have to get a sample from the walls further in. It's the only way this ends." She looked about ready to retch, taking a moment to calm herself. No sound came.

But why did the ground feel so soft to the feet? A look found the answer, if one was willing to look where she told them not to. There was no ground as far as the eye could see. You were standing on top of a hill of the dead, all in various states of plague, blood and puss everywhere. Far below, the floor almost seemed to writhe. Corpses. The whole floor of this vast carpet was corpses.

"Don't make a sound unless you have to. You'll wake them."

Shhhh, They'll Hear you (CW: A Quiet Place hunter Monsters, hunting based on sound, Vira-Lorr's head isn't properly attached)
Vira-Lorr lunged almost as soon as she saw something move, her eyes wide with terror. The visions weren't anything she wanted to see, and these were absolutely not the sort of thing that anyone had to deal with. Just barely in the line of vision, out of the corner of her sight and anyone else's with her, A hideous monster with exposed fangs was barely visible across the street. She herself, coming up close, had her whole neck in a full brace for some reason.

Her hand came up before a response could be made, her other finger desperately putting one finger up to her lips, eyes wide. No words. Just be quiet, whatever you do!

Wildcard Me!
(I'm open to a LOT of old memories. I just grabbed a few favorites. Anything you want in old Deerington, anything you've heard about you wish you'd been there for, hit me up. She was in the game for almost its entirety, so she has lots of awful memories.

What? You wanna do Hali's Scene? Sure! We can do that too!)

Descent Into Hell

[imaglyphwitch]

Of all the memories, of all the things that Luz could have to witness, why WHY was it always something super horrifying?

To be fair, she hadn't seen something this bad for months, and maybe that should have been an indication not to let her guard down. One thing was for sure: she was seeing a pretty graphic memory now.

Corpses, enough that Luz was absolutely not going to look down, not for anything. Bones, after all, were one thing, but Luz was pretty sure she didn't want to fly screaming into the night.

"Y-yup," she said in an even voice. "No sound from m-"

Something happened to squelch right near Luz.

"SHIT!"

Don't tell her mom she cursed!

denial

[pacificates]

It was such a little thing. A curious thing. It reminded him of the Halla roaming the wide grasslands of the Exalted Plains. He liked the Halla, they didn't want to hurt anyone in the place where so much hurt could be found.

And then he was here, and there is so much hurt here too. It envelopes them. A heavy, awful blanket. But there is far more coming from the man sat gazing into the hearth. Cole stares at him for a long time in the silence that follows, focused on him intently.

"... The father." he utters is softly. "The moon shaped in into something different. This is before."

Finally, he looks to Vira-Lorr. It's... painfully obvious when he utters his next words: "Your head was where it was supposed to be, now it's not."

denial

[eudaimonikos]

Michael, for his part, is standing with his back to the scene. The situation outside the window isn't particularly pleasant, but it's not unfamiliar. He's seen a hundred neighborhoods like that. It's not personal.

"I freaking hate this place," he grumbles, half-catching Vira's glance from the corner of his eye. His arms are folded. It could have been worse, though. Julia could have been here.

Izuku "Deku" Midoriya | Prompt 1: Everything Old is New Again (Rapture City)

[wannasmash]

A: The Tea Garden

cw: abilities granted through bodily injections (optional), blood, bodily changes due to addiction (optional, observed), some body-horror centric abilities (optional), corpses, signs of nature cult activity, chaotic dystopia, mutilated bodies/faces (optional), severe addiction/substance dependency (optional, observed), violence

Lights, both bioluminescent and electric, shine dimly through the ticket atrium's braced canopy of glass under the sea. Arcadia District is comparatively nice when one takes the rest of Rapture City into account. It still has the corpses, blood-painted graffiti, and tinny speakers stumbling through 50s tunes, but there is a lovely if overgrown park, seemingly impossible in this art deco city built at the bottom of the ocean. There's even an artificial stream where one can relax--when not being attacked by Splicers, the drug-addicted citizens of this recently fallen capitalist experiment. (Don't worry about the occasional nature cult altars, those are a recent... development...)

Powers are nerfed. Without his Quirk, and unwilling to inject himself with superpowered drugs, Midoriya is forced to take a subtle approach to survival. Stealth is not his strong suit, but he did have some basic training at school in the Hero Course. His hair and Hero jumpsuit are dark green camouflage as he crouches in the verdant ferns. He hopes to scavenge some supplies and hole up somewhere for the night.

Leaves nearby crunch, and there is a strange wet squelch of a sound. Midoriya points questioningly at his ear with a look that asks, Did you hear that?

"SOMEBODY HELP!" a man's voice shouts from the direction of the doors way over on the other side of the tea garden.

B: Big Brother

cw: blood, chaotic dystopia, limited supplies, bodily changes due to ADAM (slug chemical), harvesting corpses, mental distortion, parasitic slugs (not shown unless you want to get really violent), severe addiction/substance dependency (optional, observed), syringes, violence

A sickly-pale little girl hums and bends over a fresh corpse. She is intent on stabbing and extracting something from it with a large syringe gun. On being approached, she stops her work, turns, and smiles. She has glowing all-gold eyes and does not seem perturbed by the carnage around her.

A high, ear-splitting screech sounds from the darkest shadows above, making her jump and your vision blur. An agile figure with a tattered green jumpsuit wrapped in scavenged leathers alights on a balcony. They gaze at the intruder with a baleful red glow from a round diving helmet. Strapped to their back is a gas tank and a metal basket festooned with pastel bows. It's for carrying someone small.

"Big Brother doesn't want you playing with me..." the Little Sister says in a low, multi-tonal sing-song as she skips away.

The figure screams again more strongly, layered chords echoing inside the helmet like a cry from the deep. There's a slight hesitation. The parasitic slug that crawled inside this one hasn't been there long. Perhaps he can be reasoned with.

He leaps forward with unnatural speed and strength, large wrist-mounted syringe raised. Best dodge first.

ooc: Plotting here. You don't have to know about Rapture, I can happily guide. But if you want, here's the old event prelude/intro and further event info on Little Sisters.

Altaïr | Everything Old is New Again: Rapture City

[theflyingone]

cw: blood, chaotic dystopia, limited supplies, bodily changes due to ADAM (slug chemical), harvesting corpses, mental distortion, parasitic slugs (not shown unless you want to get really violent), syringes, violence, possible death

Altaïr thought the deer figurine was a gift left for him by Maria. Nothing truly concerning would enter their dwelling without their knowledge, their security measures more than just plugged holes and locked windows. He has some research to do when he gets back. When, because he refuses to die here. It's possible, but he refuses. He has too many things to do--and he doesn't like the ocean enough to die in it.

This could be anyone's memory, or no one's. Remina has a taste for history in general. This place happened, surely, but Altaïr doesn't know when or where or to whom, only that he suspects Sleepers were involved. Powers are nullified here, but Altaïr mostly gets by with his training anyway. This involves no magic, blood-related or otherwise, just his skill and his wits.

He's trained to make his first strike his last, and this large slow man patrolling in heavy armor is in the way of his escape. He means to sneak by on the balcony of an atrium with neon signage labeled Fort Frolic. Entirely possible. He could even outrun him while dodging attacks, a viable if dangerous task...

The man turns his multi-eyed helmet up towards him when an inopportune bit of floor crumbles away due to moisture. The windows in the helmet turn red, and the armored man roars like a creature of the deep.

Altaïr greatly respects life; he knows what it means to show no hesitation in taking it. He breaks line of sight behind a staircase, scales it, leaps to the top of a stage lighting scaffold, and drops down to take the enemy unawares. His trusty hidden blade extends from the mechanism on his bracer, and he jams it between two ribs.

Or so he thinks.

The Big Daddy tears Altaïr away and effortlessly throws him across the atrium to land in an ungraceful jumble on the exhibition stage.

ooc: Plotting here. You don't gotta know about Rapture, I can guide. But if you want, here's the old event prelude/intro and event info on Big Daddies etc.

[fogsong]

Sharon knows what the Big Daddy's are capable of. Her first encounter with one had been short but horrifying and had revealed enough to know they weren't something she could tussle with. Not without her powers. Those drills do damage and she's not about to meet her demise at the end of one.

That's why she's spent most of her time sneaking around, crouched, listening for the massive beast's next move. When it lets out that whale-like cry, her heart begins to pound like crazy and it takes everything in her not to dart away. She peers around the edge of a pillar just as Altair is batted away like a toy.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

It won't take long for that Big Daddy to reach him and Sharon recognizes him. He's no splicer, he's a Sleeper. She sucks in a breath, focuses, and teleports to his location thanks to plasmid she'd foolishly injected hours ago. She doesn't stay there. She's not here to draw the Big Daddy's attention towards her. No, she grabs Altair by the hand and teleports them both away. Out of sight for now.

[givetheslip]

Maria was surprised that she'd beaten Altaïr home, or at least so it seemed when she arrived back and neither saw nor heard him — and he wasn't that good at hiding in plain sight. Normally she wouldn't have thought anything of him getting lost in his books or other, more literal forms of exploration elsewhere, but she'd gotten caught out late herself and had expected him to greet her.

She'd frowned at the sight of a small deer figurine, sitting out on a small table she'd scrounged up somewhere. What was this, then? It didn't even occur to her that it could represent any kind of danger — it was just a small piece of art, nothing more. No harm in reaching out to pick it up so she could examine it further.

By now, she really should know better.

The one thing Maria will give this place — this memory — wherever she's ended up is thta it signals its nature very clearly: danger is here. Unfortunately, that applies to nearly everywhere here, as far as she can tell. There are no obvious paths to safety. She gets hear bearings well enough, as much as one can when spirited away without warning, and manages not to get herself killed, but that's the most she can say about it. She's almost relieved when she hears the sounds of violence, because one way or another it means progress; she's relieved for real when she darts into the atrium and sees who's participating in the violence.

"Leave him be!" The armored being is closing in on Altaïr, too close for her to do much without the use of absent powers, but there's crumbled masonry all around; she snatches up a fist-sized chunk of it and hurls it with great accuracy. It clangs against the armor with a dull thud and though it's unlikely to have done any real damage, it seems to have distracted the hulking creature, or at least given it pause.

Shiro | Warmblood | OTA

[shiro2hero]

My Ted Talk | Warmblood Effect | The Archives
If you're anywhere near the Archives, where Shiro has been occasionally transcribing his collection of Deerington information into a big ol' book, you might see a flyer posted up. It's got a location, a date and time. And if you do, and you're curious about it, one corner of the Archives has been set up like a lecture. A college class or something. With Shiro standing at a little desk in front of a bunch of chairs.

He doesn't look too bothered if there's only one person there. He'll just wave.

"Hey, thanks for coming." And he means it, too. "Must be something in the air, but I've been dying to share old memories. About the dream. Deerington." He gestures at the big book he's been using. "Feel up for some history?"


Promises Kept | Hali's Effects | Mouse House
Maybe he was an idiot to have trusted Hali. To trust any of the newer Pthumerians who weren't the Moon Presence. But Hali had seemed so genuine. Had seemed like he truly wanted them to choose, would respect their choice... Maybe he'd completely misjudged. He'd offered blood to Hali, to the choice.

And now Shiro is regretting that. He doesn't remember coming home, but from the presence of his Omen, he's pretty sure the big cat dragged him. Everything is stiff and sore, and frankly, just laying here in the entryway sounds like a great plan. He'll probably stay there unless someone at home objects or tries to drag his dorito-shaped bulk somewhere.

Just five more minutes. Right here. On the floor. It's comfortable on the floor.


Hell Month | Deerington Memory | cw; implied death, disease, panic
Frankly, Shiro hasn't paid much attention to the little deer figurines popping up here and there. Maybe he should have. It's been relatively quiet lately, and that should have been his first warning. Complacency is a bad idea in a city like this. One moment he's absently cleaning up some toys at Koz's Place, not entirely paying attention to what it is he's putting away, and the next...

The next there's a chill in the air. It's cold and he's staring out over an absolutely massive sinkhole, in front of what looks like an abandoned hospital. The air reeks of decay, of illness, of death. Several ropes drop down into the darkness below. Cracks in asphalt lead away from the hole, snaking down the streets of what looks like a town pulled out of time. 1950s-esque USA.

Shiro's face drains of all color completely - in an instant. He throws himself back from the hole so fast, he missteps, stumbles, and ends up scrambling like a crab on all fours away from it. Away from those ropes, disappearing downward. Away from darkness that seems to seep into the broken pavement. He doesn't stop until his back comes into contact with the wheel of a parked car, the vehicle slumped slightly sideways, covered in bits of broken debris from whatever earthquake opened that fissure.

Not again. This can't be real. He can't be back here again. Not again. This can't be real - it - can't - it should have been me it should have been me -

hell month

[fogsong]

In a single blink, she went from the cozy kitchen of her mother's house to standing before the massive sinkhole. Her heart drops into her stomach and she instinctively takes a step back. Her brain takes several moments to catch up and realize what's happening when she hears someone moving, scuttling quickly and clumsily along the pitched concrete road, scattering loose gravel. She whips around to spot Shiro pressed up against a vehicle, his face sheet-white, horrified. Terrified.

"Shit." she backs further away from the pit before she spins on her heels to hike towards him. She doesn't recognize where they are but knows this must've been part of the dream. A town so different than Trench. The smell invading her nostrils is familiar, not so different from the scents that pervaded her otherworld, and it instantly has her on edge. Prepared. Nothing good was inside that hole.

She kneels beside him, "Hey, we're good." As if his only fear had been falling in. She doesn't know the horrors he's endured here.

Hell Month (because I just have to)

[tempredmental]

Stories and comments and people talking about it was never the same as experiencing it. Keith did see one flashback through Lance's Paleblood magic, but it had been from Lance's point of view. Being here, like this, experiencing it on his own for himself, it was even more different, even more impactful.

Keith hadn't seen the deer figurine on the kitchen counter. He hadn't been paying attention. But it had picked up on his presence when he got close to it. And now he was here.

It wasn't until Shiro bumped into his leg that Keith realized he wasn't alone. He'd been about to approach those ropes, wondering exactly what this was because he didn't know how all the weird stuff down in the pit had started...

"Shiro?"

Melius Senyan | Skyrim | Coldblood

[fusrodaaaah]

🦎 BOAT ADVENTURE
[Finding himself onboard a boat was probably inevitable. The water was about the only thing in this world that Melius was not terrified of. He ventured into the sea a lot, really. Not too far out - even with gills, it was still a dangerous place.]

[He'd really just been out on the docks to buy some fish. Trade for the shellfish he'd picked up along the shallows.]

[Instead, he's suddenly on a boat. And there's suddenly a storm. It seems like it came up out of nowhere. The very first thing he does is clamp onto the nearest stable surface - like the deck - and dig his claws in for dear life. Waves crash, and, if anyone is close enough, they might actually see his gills flare to life.]

H-Here-! [He'll call out, in the nearest lull, and thrust a vial of greenish liquid out.] Water - Water breathing! Please take it!

feel free to use brackets if you wanna, i just cant do them myself

[theflyingone]

Altaïr doesn't hate the ocean. It's a practical thoroughfare for travel. He spends some time watching the coming and going of goods at the docks with the usual curiosity he views the world... Altaïr tenses when he's on open water, and he would never take a sea outing for leisure unless there were a truly great reward at the destination. Someone he loved died at sea. For him, the ocean holds darknesses and memories.

He should be more concerned about the physical dangers, particularly when curiosity gets the better of him and he boards a boat in a quest for knowledge.

The man in suddenly soaking white robes coughs violently, trying to get air and not water into his lungs. He clutches the bottle handed to him, having wits enough to tell when something is being thrust at him in an emergency.

"Drink now?!" he yells above the noise. It's just confirmation really, because he's already working the bottle open. It would be very difficult to enjoy a beverage under the waves. And,

"It seems our companion has disappeared!" The hooded Remina, so Altaïr is not concerned about her survival. She is a Pthumerian.

Luz Noceda | The Owl House

[imaglyphwitch]

Everything Old is New Again

[CW: Blood, cannibalism, talk of death and torture]

She closed her eyes, because she knew she didn't need to open them. She remembered this place even without opening her eyes: the smell of dank, the feeling of being tied up, the half conscious stare she was in.

Her mouth felt like she'd been chewing cud, and when she opened her eyes, she heard the muffled laughter, the stuff of her nightmares, echoing in the cave. She remembered when she'd been here that time, where her fear had been at a fever pitch, where every moment felt like she'd be finally killed, but she remembered how they prolonged their feeding, how the knives cut into her and they had taken their time tormenting and causing her pain.

This was, after all, the caves, the places where the cannibal people had stalked their prey, dragged them down here and played with their food, slowly cutting and watching her scream and beg and laughing about it.

Luz remembered that she DID scream and cry, if only to appease them. She knew being resigned to her fate meant they had no more use, and would just outright kill her then. She knew enough to put on a show, just a little bit, so it could buy her time.

Only there was no Ozpin this time to get her out, and she couldn't use her magic. They'd made sure of that.

The Path Once taken

Luz had braved the ocean before, but that had been with a crew, and those others times in Trench had been cakewalks compared to this.

She was drenched to the bone. Her teeth chattered as her trembling hands loosed the rope for her sail and she readjusted to continue on with the storm. It had only been going a few hours, but it could have been longer. It was hard to keep track.

What Luz absolutely could use is another set of hands though: it was hard to do all of this alone, and she was pretty adamant about weathering the storm and getting to live at the end of this journey! She just had to hold out hope that the boat would stay in one piece!

the path once taken

[eudaimonikos]

Michael, for his part, is just fully on fire! This is helping him stay dry, if only by vaporizing the water, but he is giving off a whole lot of steam right now. Maybe that's not super helpful, on balance.

"This is bullshit!" he calls, over the roaring of wind and waves. "Where are we going?"