deercountry | I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

DECEMBER 2021 EVENT

Hello! We are trying a new style of event this December with archival-like entries that characters can ICly find in the Archives. This should allow characters to be able to plan against certain events that occur in-game and do research ahead of time, during the event, or after the fact.

The idea is that these prompts will provide you with all the possibilities characters could theoretically face from the prompt. We hope this leaves more open-ended opportunities for people to engage with. Anything mentioned in the excerpts could be an experience characters encounter. You can always ask for clarification on any prompt on the plotting page.

This is a way to keep all event prompts relevant since new characters would be able to "read up" on these events/excerpts by visiting the Archives or other such resources for information about past events and what they can anticipate from the setting.

We hope this new style makes sense and is fun for players to work with! They will rely on players creating more of the atmosphere than the prompts, but we think that the prompts will provide the perfect guidance as to what the atmosphere should feel like. Enjoy!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Holiday themed antler decoration.]
[Image Two: White stag with perfect, circular antlers with bits of ice attached.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Sculpture of white rabbit with neck caught in a snare. Non-graphic.]
[Image Two: Person in red cloak and wolf mask turning around.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Puppet making bloody snow angel in snow.]
[Image Two: Bloodied hands wrapped in bandages clenching.]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

WINTER MOURNING

WHEN: Begins in December and can last until the end of Feb.
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: Spoilers for various canons, survival situations, forced memory share

[A passage from Rituals of Trench: Remembering Our Pasts reads the following:]

"A long-standing tradition to celebrate Bone Season is for Deerians to collect antlers and bones salvaged from natural resources and create decorative home accents. These antler-bone decors are known formally as Winter Mournings and can be found in almost every residential home throughout Deer Country. Winter Mournings can be made to look like wreaths, candle holders, or simply an antler with a bow hung up on a wall.

Winter Mournings is seen as a way to honor one's past tribulations and how one has managed to survive and overcome hardships during their life. Winter Mournings serves as a testament to survival and a willingness to keep surviving even when things look bleak and dismal.

Creating Winter Mournings is considered a blessing to the Pthumerians Dorothea, Remina, and Argonaut. You will know if the blessing was accepted once your Winter Mourning begins to glow like the moon. Touch your Winter Mourning and you will be pulled back in time to a memory of a specific time when you or someone else had to survive something physically or mentally challenging. For some, it is merely a memory that cannot hurt, but for others, you may want to proceed with caution as it has been known to pull people physically back to times of war.

One cannot choose which memory they wind up in if it is their own, a friend's, or a complete stranger's. Winter Mournings was designed to create a sense of union and empathy among residents and is meant to open your mind and heart to those who have suffered around you. It is time you explore your past, or someone else's past, with an open mind and see how the other side has lived through hard times. These memories are known to be from adolescence, adulthood, or sometimes even futures that have not yet happened or timelines you have never known. After all, Remina sees all past and all history. That means they see all of your past and history too.

No memory lasts forever though. Once the memory has been concluded, you shall be brought back to the present by the Winter Mourning Stag: a great white beast with a circle of frozen antlers. It will come to you when the time is ready, and you will return to the present like waking from a dazzling dream.

Experiencing Winter Mournings can stabilize one's mood and provide restful sleep after, even if the memories may be difficult to swallow. It truly is a tribute to honor past horrors and traumas. Some memories are painful to remember, but forgetting them will never do anyone any good either. So hang your Winter Mournings and remember what matters.

Survive another day. You are worth it."

FAQ

1. Winter Mournings can produce new memories every time you touch them or the same memory.

2. Characters cannot choose what the memory is.

3. Characters can arrive in each other's memories regardless of if they already know each other. Multiple people can experience the same memory.

4. You can either experience the memory as a memory you can't touch or experience - or you can physically be in the memory and have to survive the situation as well. If you die in memory, your body will die wherever you had been touching the Winter Mourning.

5. Palebloods are capable of altering memories or how they or others experience memories.

6. Characters can be pulled into memories at random - as long as one of the characters in the memory share is touching a Winter Mourning at first.

RUN, RABBIT, RUN

WHEN: Month of December
WHERE: Everywhere/the woods
CONTENT WARNINGS: Themes of hunting, ghosts, curses, attempts at animal violence, hunting people based on blood types.

[An excerpt from Legends of Trench: Curses and Causations reads the following:]

"One of the most notorious legends of Trench is without a doubt the tale of The Huntress and the Hare. Most Trenchies have been told this tale since they were children, but for those unfamiliar, settle in.

This story begins with a mischievous god and an ambitious huntress. The Pthumerian Dorothea loved to play tricks on hunters trying to survive the Bone Season, setting animals free from traps and remaking the traps to catch the hunters instead. One day, a darkblood Huntress was fed up with Dorothea preventing her from catching food for her family and decided to settle the score. The Huntress began to hunt for Dorothea specifically, but it is no small feat hunting the god of trickery and survival.

The Huntress started to rely on her darkblood powers to alter reality to make the perfect traps. Innocuous trees turned into glue traps that anyone would stick to until they were freed by a darkblood or death took their pain from them. Walking through bushes would snag legs and necks, effectively trapping whatever creatures were unfortunate enough to wander for food. Magical snares and beartraps lock around victims with unrelenting force, leaving people and animals to try for help until they cry no more. While this took many innocent lives in the woods, animals, and people alike, it never seemed to work on Dorothea.

Dorothea continued to outwit the Huntress until she eventually drove the Huntress insane. The Huntress died without ever catching Dorothea, but they say her vengeful spirit awakens in winter and begins to set her traps yet again. The Huntress sends her traps and her dead animals after vilebloods and warmbloods to spite Dorothea and hope to maybe catch the god's attention. But Dorothea is no passive god. Dorothea spurs vilebloods and warmbloods to defend themselves against darkbloods and coldbloods.

Infamously, this has created enormous tension between the blood types during December some years, and it is said that the blood lust has caused the types to begin hunting one another regardless of old friendships and alliances. Beware the Huntress's curse. Some believe darkbloods and coldbloods can still hear her haunting commands and cries from the Trenchwood.

They say there is no ease for the tension between the bloodtypes until December has passed, but some believe palebloods may provide relief if they are willing."

FAQ

1. Characters will increasingly feel the urge to actively hunt one another using traps/etc.

2. The Huntress's curse includes undead animals/beasts chasing after warmbloods and vilebloods and magical traps. Players can invent unique traps for their characters.

3. There will be an innate urge to chase/hide from one another.

4. The curse can be broken by paleblood intervention, character death, or a gradual wearing off by the end of the month.

LOCKJOINT

WHEN: All of Bone Season
WHERE: On Sleeper bodies
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mild body horror, blood magic curses, physical curses, cures through blood ministration/blood letting, possible skin removal, injuries, possible death via starvation/exposure.

[An passage from The Sleeper Condition; Chapter 13: Bodily Aches and More. Found exclusively at the Lumenarium:]

"Generally speaking, Sleeper blood allows Sleepers to navigate this world without the fear of illness and disease. However, no organic body is perfect, and Sleeper blood has its own set of ailments to fret over. Blood Ministers have studied the phenomena of Lockjoint for years now and believe that it is linked to the crystalization found in Sleeper death, though the exact connection remains unknown.

Lockjoint tends to begin and last throughout Bone Season. Some Sleepers may never experience it, but for many, it becomes a reoccurring issue to dread each season. This condition forces blood magic to gather at the joints and effectively lock up. Sleepers find it difficult to move their bodies at the bends, fingers, knees, shoulders, etc without some form of discomfort. Minimal lockjoint can be painful and annoyance, but critical lockjoint can be fatal.

The most severe cases of lockjoint documented have shown Sleepers to have crystalization form over their joints, rendering parts of their bodies completely immobile. Some Sleepers have been found dead in this condition, all their joints crystallized, and it is believed most died from natural causes thereafter.

One can determine they are experiencing lockjoint when the coloration around the joints begins to darken in color, typically looking like a bruise. Calcification may occur rapidly the more magic a Sleeper uses or the more they expose themselves to outside elements. It is imperative that Sleepers remain properly clothed during Bone Season, even if they are coldbloods, and to invest in enchanted clothes that can lock in heat.

A known cure for lockjoint is the art of bloodletting. Puncturing the joints with small incisions seems to allow a release of the built-up magic and can provide immediate relief to the Sleeper. Catching lockjoint early is imperative. Alternative methods are soaking in hot springs and salted water.

Those who are in a more severe state will have to carefully have the crystals removed. This will likely remove the skin as well. Local anesthesia is highly recommended for the procedure. This process is known to leave scarring. The crystals can be saved and used as bloodstones from whoever they were harvested from. If you find a Sleeper dead from lockjoint, make sure to harvest the crystals as they are incredibly valuable.

This curse is believed to stem from Sleeper blood magic congealing within the body in contrast with the atmospheric magic of Bone Season. There is no known prevention for lockjoint. Lockjoint can impact all Sleepers regardless of bloodtype or the material their bodies are made from."

FAQ

1. This impacts characters regardless of blood type or their body - meaning it can impact characters with metal/plastic/plant/wood/etc bodies.

2. Players can choose how rapid or severe this gets and how quickly they can be healed.

CODING

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[Varian, his skin dark and craggy like rock, with his teeth sharp and fangy, was not expecting to end up...wherever he is. A kitchen? It takes him a few moments to realise what's happening. That, once again, this world is playing with people's minds, with their memories. He'd hoped they'd left it behind in Deerington, but the bodies they'd seen when they first arrived here had put paid to that. And here they are again.

He glances at Luna, finally realising who's memory he's stumbled into. Being home should bring some joy, but the way she's reacting...well, it's clear there's pain here. ]

Yeah? Where...where you grew up?

[ Luna hasn't quite realised that this is a particular memory of hers, a very particular bad day. She'll be loathe to the fact Varian'll share in such a thing at first, but for now it's just an unhappy circumstance he's here with her. Why can't they be left in peace with their nice, healthy distance?

Between the two of them, they both look pretty awful. Luna's certainly looking worse for wear too, although definitely less so than Varian. She looks pretty sickly; pale and dark, sunken eyes. If he's paying attention, he might notice an odd pearlescent shimmer to her eyes as she looks about the room — the light catching on them. ]

Mm. I haven't been here for a very long time now. [ Even before Deerington, it had been at least half a year since she'd been home. Luna finally follows the voices outside, moving to a window to look out. She makes a small sound, her face crumpling. There's a woman outside, one who looks very similar to Luna as she is now, out in the garden with a very smaller version of Luna herself. They sit close to a little shed, her mother's workshop. ]

... My mum's alive.

[They were perfectly happy with their distance. Varian isn't impressed this town has other ideas. He catches the way Luna is looking and...something flickers across his expression for a moment. Concern, perhaps.

That concern only becomes more apparent when he sees her expression change. When she says that. He sucks in a breath, watching the woman who looks so much like Luna with her daughter. This is clearly an intimate moment and he's clearly intruding on it- even if it's not by choice.

My mum's alive.

Something twists uncomfortably in his gut. He never knew, He never asked. But a horrible, familiar feeling of loss settles on him. ]

...What happe- [He stops himself. Either the memory will show them or Luna will tell him herself. He doesn't have the right to ask.] Sorry. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to.

I suppose I don't have a choice. [ Whether she gets to choose in telling him herself. As if this place would ever allow them some degree of choice in the matter. ] You'll get to see for yourself.

[ This is her memory, isn't it? Sent here by the Winter Mourning, an item made to honour one's survival through difficulties, through hardships. If it's sent her into one of her own memories, then this would be it, wouldn't it?

One of the hardest days. Luna exhales shakily, watching her mother and her younger self for a long moment. She remembers, she knows: ]

This is the day she dies. [ Her brow furrows. ] It's quite funny, isn't it? It just looks like an ordinary day.

...I know but...I don't know, I can not look or...something.

[They both know how that works, but he wants to put the offer there anyway. To give her even a sliver of privacy in what is obviously a painful memory.

The worry in his expression only deepens as she continues to talk. ]

I guess it always does, huh? You- you never know it's gonna happen until it does.

If only it were subtle enough to miss. [ Meaning... no, it's not really something he's going to be able to just turn around and not look at. It certainly would have made things a lot easier, wouldn't it?

But she... appreciates the offer all the same. Luna hesitates for a long moment, her brow furrowing. There's a quiet nod: you never know it's gonna happen until it does. ]

You never do. [ She wants to rush out the door, wants to get closer. She hasn't seen her mother in so long. Not as she's meant to be, like this. But she doesn't know how this'll work. ] ...She was ever so clever. She liked experimenting, inventing magic of her own. She always did it, but—

[ Then it did go wrong. ]

...Yeah, if only.

[It doesn't work that way, though, and they both know it. He still feels like he's intruding on something deeply personal- and the more she talks the more...horribly familiar it seems. Or at least, familiar in a way of stories he's been told. ]

My mom did that. Experimenting. Magic and science, I guess? [He can only figure out from the extremely minimal information his father gave him. ] I don't remember her though.

[The loss is...less, he didn't have a bond that was ripped away like Luna clearly did. Hard to miss what you never had, after all.]

I- I'm guessing it caught her out. The...experimenting.

[ Of course there's plenty of magic that's perfectly subtle. But then again, that's magic when it's done right. Magic when it goes horrible wrong is hardly something to be quite gentle, or without it's... awful fanfare. ]

She's not here anymore either, is she? [ Did. Not does. Did. Past. His mother did experimentation. It does actually give her pause, though. Is this why Varian has such a negative view of magic, she wonders? He's never really been much of a fan, in the time she's known him. ]

It did. [ She nods slowly, her eyes are glossy. There's a long pause before she quietly continues. He's going to see it anyway.

Outside, her mother pulls herself to stand, dusting herself off. She reaches down to kiss Luna on the top of her head, gently fussing her over. Her chest feels tight as she grips the windowsill: she wants to tell her to sit down again. She knows she can't. ]

Dad had gone to London for work, so it was just me and her. It was usually like that, it was nice. [ She swallows thickly, her mother turning to head into a shed. ] ... I don't even remember what she was... working on.

[ She wants to run outside. ]

No. She died when I was a baby.

[He says it matter of factly. He really doesn't remember anything about her, all he knows of her is the portrait that now hangs in the disaster house's tower and the stories his father would tell him after enough pressing. ]

It's not like...this. [Like her situation, where she HAD a mother she knew and was close to. Where she lost a tangible part of herself she was aware of. ] It's a lot harder to miss someone you never knew. This is...worse.

[Varian's always been a compassionate soul, and as many problems as he and Luna have had, he's not hiding that now- he feels for her and that's as plain as day in the way he speaks, the way he holds himself.

He watches the gentle, loving motions between mother and daughter, and then the former moving away, leaving behind her daughter for good. ]

I guess in the end it doesn't matter- though...do you think it would make it easier? Knowing what she died for?

[Because that's definitely something he asks himself plenty.]

... I think both are equally awful. [ She's very quiet for a moment. Neither of them are particularly kind options. Luna can't imagine not growing up with her mother at all. That's another loss altogether. Her brow pinches a little. ] Losing someone you had, or growing up with not having someone at all.

[ He still lost his mother, that's the thing. And it's still something she can understand. Even with Varian, she treats it gently as she can. ]

You miss what you could have had. [ Something perhaps they might both understand. Luna's had years she didn't have with her mother: growing up, going to Hogwarts, getting friends. And even if the milestones are different, Varian didn't have those years either. ]

I... don't think so, no. [ She shakes her head a little. The specifics of what her mother was up to don't seem to matter to her, she thinks. ] But I suppose it does make it easier knowing she died doing something so important to her, something she loved and cared about.

...I guess so. It's hard to tell, only seeing it from one side.

[And despite everything between them, he really doesn't want to lessen her pain. ]

I do. I don't know, I know I had my dad but that was... [he waves his hand vaguely, she heard plenty about how that was] I don't know. I think I would have been a different person if I had both of them.

[Or maybe he would have been worse. He doesn't really know much about the sort of person his mother was. Perhaps she would have been even worse than Quirin at offerings support. He has no way of telling. ]

...Yeah that makes sense. You know it wasn't...I don't know, some senseless accident or someone hurting her or...anything. It doesn't make the fact she's gone any less awful, but it...softens the blow.

It's a sad thing, isn't it? Not really knowing how things could have turned out. [ Luna doesn't know if things would have been different for her, either. She might have had her mother for nine years, but it's possible things could have still be different if she hadn't died. She still had so much growing to do. ] I don't think it's something worth beating yourself over, though. That never leads to anything good.

[ It's probably the kindest advice she's given him, but it's frank. He can't change how his life turned out, the things he's done. There's no use agonizing over it. He'll never work through himself if he lingers in 'what-ifs'. ]

It... does, in a way. I was... born during the height of a war. Wizards fighting other wizards. A lot of people were murdered. A lot of people went missing, never to be seen again. [ Others dealt even worse fates, like Neville's poor parents. ] I do feel lucky to have had both parents, a lot of people didn't have that.

[ She hesitates a little, brow furrowing slightly. And even now, it's happening again. There'll be a lot of people who won't make it out of the war completely

It is, and it's not something we can ever really...learn, I guess? Unless Trench shows us otherwise, which I guess is always an option. [He wouldn't put it past this place.] But you're right. Wondering about it won't change what happened. It is what it is.

[He honestly appreciates the frankness. Varian's never done well with coddling. He knows who he was, who he wants to be now. Denying any of that would be unfair to him and the people he's hurt along the way. ]

...That's a really tough world to be born into. I can see why that'd make a person...well, tough. [He means it as a compliment, genuinely.] But no...I guess in a world like that, it would be pretty rare.

I mean, there was even the Wastes back in Deerington, after all. So it's possible, yes. [ Different version of themselves. So it seems it's very likely something like that comes around in another form. In some ways it feels more like a curse than anything else, though. ] It is what it is, yes. You just have to work with that, instead.

[ Work with what you have, not with what you could've had. ]

Tough, and quite brave too. [ Harry and Neville are certainly that.

And then, there's a blinding flash of light. Something within little shed her mother works in explodes with a powerful blast of crackles of magic and flames. The little windows shattering and the wood splintering, a figure thrown limply through one of the wall. The smaller version of herself stands, eyes wide and terrified — too stunned to speak.

Luna's quiet, staring out the window at the chaos, tears dribbling down her face. ]

...Yeah. Trust me, that's...not comforting. The Wastes.

[His father was a Waste and it damn near destroyed him to see. He doesn't know how he'd cope with his mother showing up like that. ] I think I'd prefer just...dealing with what I've been given already.

[Less chance of something being broken into pieces again. ]

Hmmm. I could see that.

[He has seen that in Luna herself. He turns his head at the flash of light and knows what that means- the figure slumping down, limp and very much gone is unavoidable. He looks at the little Luna, his heart breaking for her- then turns his attention to the present day one- finding the feeling unchanged.

He only hesitates for a moment this time, before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. Regardless of everything, she's hurting and needs comfort. That's what matters right now.]

I'm sorry.

[He's not just talking about the loss of her mother. ]

No, they were... what happened to them was— [ Horrifying. Luna had to bury plenty of bodies in those days; one of Peter, with his help. Another of herself, older. A grown woman. ] But the idea of them, the concept—

[ Wastes that don't die like that. ]

But that's fair.

[ It's awful to watch. To see the smaller version of herself slowly making her way over to her dying mother. Or maybe she's already dead, now. She never did open her eyes again. Maybe she was still there for a moment or two, then gone. Luna doesn't know in those fleeting final moments, just knows that she's already gone. There's just the faint smell of smoke through the window; a blessing, being inside. Hiding the more awful scent of burnt flesh. The younger version of herself drops down to her mother's side. It's quiet.

Luna feels the hand at her shoulder, and she lets out a shuddering breath she doesn't realise she's holding. Her head dropping; it hurts, this hurts. Ten years have passed and it still hurts. It feels cruel, having to see this again — something raw and fresh like this. She sniffs, a hand going to her face to wipe at her tears. ]

Thank you. [ It's softly uttered, and perhaps she does quietly realise there's more to it than that. She's not really in the place to really... address it. But she's heard it. He doesn't have to be kind, he doesn't have to say anything. But he does. ]

I'm sorry, too.

The whole thing was just... a lot. I don't think Deerington has ever been as cruel as it was with them.

[It was a whole new level, built to tear people from the inside out. He doubts he'll ever recover from seeing his dad like that. He feels it'll be the same for every Sleeper who dealt with their own.

The smell of burning flesh is awful, it sticks at the back of his throat and makes him want to wretch. He doesn't, though. Things might be horribly complicated between him and Luna, but he's not about to do that to her. He gives her shoulder a firm squeeze, once. ]

It's...okay. Don't worry about it.

[There were bigger things to deal with.]

Cruel to us, and cruel to them. [ It's one horror to have to witness it and deal with it, but it was another kind of horror for them to be the ones who had to die so terribly. They couldn't even help the Wastes.

The scene is as still as it can be with the exception of the sound of flames, mostly wood burning and crackling. The younger version of herself is too quiet to be heard, but Luna knows she's not saying anything. There was nothing she could say, no comfort she could offer. Her mother died in that quiet. Luna still wishes she could have said something, but she knows she was only a child.

A curious thing happens after a few moments; small, low rainclouds begin the gather, hovering only directly above the scene. Delicate things, that slowly begin to let out rain to quench the flames. ]

Accidental magic. [ She explains to him. ] Sometimes we do magic without meaning to, when we're scared or in danger.

[ A kind of self-protection wandless young witches and wizards do. It'll be enough to stop what burns, to stop any more damage until her father comes home. That will... be for a long time yet. Luna feels the weight of that, her eyes lowering down to the windowsill.

And then, the sound of hooves upon the floorboards behind them. There's a gentle chill in the air, a soft snort. Luna turns her head to look and then gasps loudly: a huge white stag with frozen antlers standing in the middle of room. It's a beautiful. ]

.... That isn't part of this.

[Varian watches the rainclouds come in, something to put out the fire, to make things...less intense. It won't put out the tragedy, it won't make this hurt any less, but it rounds off the sharp edges to it. For now. ]

I guess that makes sense. Like...fight or flight, but...magical.

[Well. That sure is a stag, Varian stares at him for a moment, then back at her.]

You think he might be a way back? Deer were always a big thing back in the dream, right?

A bit like that, yes. [ Sometimes more like fight, really. Accidental magic is essentially whatever it needs to be to keep the witch or wizard safe. It's some kind of action to help. Other times it's a bit like just accidentally projecting your feelings, like a little snow cloud above one's head when they feel glum. ]

I believe so. [ If there's something easy to trust, it would certainly be deer. ] I think it's more than likely that they're still something very important in Trench, too.

[ Ramona didn't die, did she? So maybe she's here somehow, a bit like the Dog Keeper. ]

Only one way to know for certain, I suppose.

[ Looks like they're going for 'approaching the majestic white deer'. ]

Wouldn't be surprised. This whole world was created on the back of Julia's mind. It would make sense they'd be...important here, too.

[He follows Luca towards the deer, he casts her a look before reaching out to touch the creature- calm as they always were back in the dream. And just like that, they're out of the memory- like it was nothing but a dream. Varian looks around them and leaves out a sigh. ]

And that's that.

[This is all they need. More of this. More memories being put on show. He needs to warn his household this is happening again. He casts Luna a look, brow furrowed- not sure...what to do here.]

...Are you gonna be okay?

Makes you wonder how much of Deerington might be here. [ If it's come from Sodder in a way. And she did idolize Ramona, after all. Maybe there more of all of them here than they realise.

Back out of the memory, she shuffles awkwardly on the spot for a moment before pausing at Varian's question. She... feels alright. Better. Certainly better than what she was; like her mind seems a great deal more settled. Less... wildly emotional than it had been before they'd ended up in this memory of hers. There's plenty going on to have her worried, with Peter especially. But for now, she's... she thinks she might be alright. ]

I suppose I will be. [ As much as one can be reliving one of their worst memories. Merlin knows it's probably even worse for Varian, feeling like he's intruded on the whole thing. It's alright, though. It's not ideal, no. But... what can they do? ]

Thank you. [ For... being there, she means. For asking if she's going to be alright. Luna doesn't want to dwell on it too much. This is... awkward, isn't it? She inhales, giving them both an out. ]

You should get home, Fern might be wondering where you've gone. [ There's a half shrug. ] Peter too. I should get back to him.

There's got to be more, it makes sense. All those people can't just...go.

[Varian definitely doesn't feel great for intruding on her memory. Things between them are...complicated, but he definitely doesn't want her to suffer. Nor does he want to intrude on her pain where he would otherwise not be welcome. But at least they're out now. They can...shift apart and she can take some time to process all that and he can just feel...guilty elsewhere. ]

It's...well. Don't mention it. And yeah, I should go check on Fern. He'll start panicking if I'm gone too long...Peter probably would too, huh?

He would, he's quite the worrier. [ And she means it with all the affection in the world, but yes — Peter worries something terrible for her at times. Granted he's a little... off right now, although she doesn't know why. He seems less himself these days. But that's not a conversation for now, there's really too much going on. ]

Tell Fern I said 'hello'.

[ The easiest way to say goodbye without actually saying goodbye. There's an awkward little wave, and she takes her leave. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

home

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cw mentions of burn injuries, parental death

cw mentions of burn injuries, parental death

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wrap! ♥️