All men must die, but first he must live.

[reddosmod]

SEPTEMBER 2021 EVENT

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Woman holding skull in bag. ]
[Image Two: Plants sprouting out of earth.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Woman rocking back and forth in dark.]
[Image Two: Woman rowing down river with corpses on stakes on horizon.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Beef cake man breaking arrows off of shield with a sword.]
[Image Two: Beefy man slamming axe into troll-like creature, spraying blood.]

[NAVIGATION]

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

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

GROWING PAINS

WHEN: September
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: Minor blood ritual.

---

September, for many in Trench, is considered a month of personal sacrifice. It is the month of self-actualization and promise. To grow your future, you must first be willing to sacrifice your past. You cannot walk forwards while walking backward. All throughout Trench, natives can be seen in yards and on plots of land digging small holes and planting a variety of items. Some plant seeds, some drop in a ring, others bury small parts of a body. But the ritual is simple: bury something that represents your past and seal it with a promise for your future.

You can write yourself a note or cut off a lock of your own hair. The ways in which people do this are limitless since it's a largely personal experience. Find a small patch of soil and dig yourself a shallow hole. Bury the item inside, say goodbye to who you used to be, and cover the item up with dirt. Once you are done, you must shed at least one drop of blood onto the sacrifice. It must be your own blood willingly given. Once the blood hits the soil, a small flower will miraculously grow out of the earth within seconds.

A single, powerless flower, but this flower will be completely immortal. You can either keep it on the patch of land or dig it up and bring it home. The flower will be a representation of your progress in Trench: if its petals wilt, you are lingering too much in the past. If it is in full bloom and vibrant, you're on the right path to a better future. If the flower starts to rot, you're heading down a dangerous path.

The flower may not be able to sway you one way or another, but it may serve as a valuable reminder of the kind of life you wish to lead. Some people abandon the flowers entirely and never bother with them. After all, there are no real consequences if you let the flower rot. If a character is dropped, their flower will fleck away like dust. Many believe that the flowers are made of the same stuff omens are made of.

You can dig up other people's flowers and watch their progress (make sure to get player permission) instead. After all, not everyone will care enough about their own flowers to really observe them closely. The flowers can come in any species or size, even fictional flowers, but they will only be replicas. Meaning if your character's flower is typically used for healing, there will be no healing properties in this replica. The flowers cannot be destroyed.

Many natives in Trench will repeat this ritual a few times every couple of years since the ritual is for letting go of the past. After all, the promises you make to yourself now won't be the same promises you make to yourself ten years from now. People change and so too will their flowers. What the characters bury is largely open to interpretation.

RIVER OF REGRET

WHEN: September
WHERE: Some obscure location within Gaze
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mangled corpses of loved ones, birds eating corpses, themes of regret.

---

You will find raven feathers all over Trench. They may drift through the air, lightly touch you, or you might decide to pick one up. The moment you come into physical contact with a feather, a conspiracy of ravens tears through the air and scoops you up into a whirlwind of feathers and caws. It only lasts a few seconds before you're deposited into a canoe drifting along a still river. Another Sleeper is in the boat with you. You pass beneath massive stone walls carved into the likeness of Never Mind and his ravens.

The world is silent around you. There is no rain here. Instead, sunlight pours through breaks in the clouds. Sunlight dapples across the water and golden-red leaves of nearby trees. It's more serene than most places in Trench.

You turn a corner and smell it before you see it. The picturesque summer day is dampened by the stench of rot. Then you come upon them: corpses. Corpses tied up to posts with barbed wire, corpses put through spikes and suspended in the air. Ravens flutter to and fro, picking at strips of meat. It isn't until you're close enough that you realize you recognize the corpses.

They are the corpses of people you have hurt. And that doesn't just mean people you killed or physically harmed. These are the bodies of people you have deep regrets towards: a lover you wronged, a best friend you lied to, an enemy you wish you had forgiven. Not everything is as black and white as murder, after all, and this grisly graveyard of mangled bodies says as much. Sometimes our regrets haunt us like the dead, and it seems like yours have followed you to Trench. You might even see your own body up on a post or the body of your canoe companions.

You have one of two choices: ignore your regret or face it.
Choosing to ignore your regrets doesn't seem to have any ill consequences at first. You pass by the corpses and continue on your river voyage. But the water grows thicker, and you come across the same corpses only in a worse state. The situation gets progressively worse each time you ignore it, and the river gradually becomes a river of blood and gore. The stench becomes insufferable and you will become increasingly corrupt. Some may even turn into beasts right there on the river.

Facing your regrets means talking about them, even mildly, to your canoe companions. You simply need to acknowledge the corpses, acknowledge the slightest truth to your feelings towards those regrets. When everyone in your canoe has acknowledged their regrets, the ravens will come for you once more. You will be brought back to Trench and awaken in the School of Mutter. Those who faced their regrets will discover that they have been gifted a white gold compass. The compass's needle will always point in the direction of the nearest Lamp Friend no matter the chaos going on in the world. But the compass only works once you have calmed down and focused.

QUICK FACTS

1. Each boat can hold up to 4 people. There can be multiple canoes in the same area.

2. If you try to leave the boat, you will drown in the River of Regret.

3. This does not have to encompass every regret someone's had. It can only represent one or two things. The regret should have to do with another individual or one's self. Something like "I regret not going to college" wouldn't necessarily work within the parameters of the prompt.

4. The river can only be accessed by touching a fallen raven feather. Touching a raven feather attached to the bird or a quill does not count.

5. Characters can engage with this prompt as many times as they touch a raven feather.

6. Characters with no regrets will not see corpses, but they will still be able to interact with characters who do have regrets.

BLOODSPORT

WHEN: During the Blood Moon
WHERE: Everywhere but specifically, The Gate
CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, fighting, forced aggression/violence, forced fighting.

---

The Blood Moon invokes religious reverence among Trenchies. September and October are the ultimate months of sacrifice to pay tribute to the gods and the blood that rules this world. An energy begins to swell among Trenchies and you keep hearing the same word whispered excitedly around the city: "Bloodsport."

As the Blood Moon floods the streets in red, you begin to feel antsy, like you don't know what to do with yourself. You're not necessarily angry, you just have an abundance of energy. You don't need to be told what it is: your blood is reacting to the moon. The Blood Moon enhances blood powers significantly and you're simply not used to that yet. You don't feel in control of your own power or maybe even your own mind. At least until you exert some power, some force. Slam a door shut or swing a sword, shoot some electricity or spit some poison and you'll feel at peace with yourself. That nervous energy will ease out.

Only to come back twice as strong. It starts to put you in a real fighting mood and you start to realize why the locals call this Bloodsport. Hunting down beasts and monsters might seem like the fun thing to do right now, but the real attraction for Bloodsport takes place at The Gate. You can hear the roaring crowd blocks away. Hundreds of Trenchies have settled in to watch Sleepers duke it out with each other or with locked-up monsters. Maybe join in the fight. At least you know the other Sleepers there want to be there...Right?

Unfortunately not. Those who resist Bloodsport will find themselves passing out more and more frequently. Eventually, they will be taken by Mysterious Forces to The Gate to be pitted against other Sleepers and monsters. Some Sleepers will be forced into a gladiator-style fight that they either must win or die trying. Most fights at the Gate do end in death, but there are some circumstances where someone surrenders. Of course, that never stops their opponent from killing them anyway...Hopefully, you're fighting someone who is still relatively reasonable. Both parties can be resistant to fighting, but they will feel obligated to fight each other. If they don't, monsters will be unleashed into the arena and your situation will get a whole lot worse.

Bloodsport can greatly enhance a Sleeper's ability and many believe it is a gift from the Pthumerian gods. It is generally considered an advantage to Sleepers during the Season of Blood to prepare them and train them to hone their skills for the Season of Bone. Many believe it is wisest to submit to Bloodsport and let yourself get used to the motions of violence in order to survive the remainder of the year.

QUICK FACTS

1. Casual physical training will alleviate Bloodsport feelings. You could get through the month just by jogging around a lot.

2. Characters forced to the Gate will not remember how or when they arrived - they will just wake up and be thrown into the Gate by some shadowy force.

3. Characters who willingly participate in violence/fighting will feel temporary relief from Bloodsport only for the feeling to increase.

4. Effects of Bloodsport last as long as the Blood Moon shines through September and October.

5. You can treat symptoms of Bloodsport with calming techniques such as aromatherapy, meditation, medications, etc. Can be based on what would ICly help calm your character but it should require a lot of it.

6. You can invent the monsters/beasts that are at the Gate. They should be killable creatures and easily captured for the purpose of the Gate.

CODING

Comments

in this house we write NOVELS

[possessum]

( There's a risk in reaching out to physically touch Luna — and it's not something he often does, especially not lately. There's a careful, cautious physical distance. But he doesn't know how else to tell her, besides show her, and he's.... afraid to linger too long. There's a desperation in him, to be soothed as quickly as possible. To be made safe again.

But he can tell she's very nervous and tense of the gesture, afraid as he reaches for her, and the demon feels regretful for that. He doesn't like for the witch to be afraid of him; it feels... wrong; it upsets him. For a long moment he's just staring, unsure, but then he feels something shift in Luna, and she's giving a soft breath. Her hands cup his face, the familiar soft pressure of them. Her fingers brush against his cheeks, and immediately his eyelids flutter, his spirit reacting to her touch.

'It's alright, Paimon. I'm here. Be still.'

There's another strange, strained breath, a ragged exhale. His chest rises and falls too hard, still, but the restlessness within him is being caught by her, held by her hands — protected, soothed down. It's been a very long time since she held him like this, but it has the same effect as before: it's as though she's given him a parameter, a safe space to be contained in.

And she's praising him, the words further pacifying him. Affirmation that he's done well, that she's pleased with him. He can still feel her anxiety but it's calming... lulling. For a moment, his eyes close, and he stands there, very still, torso slightly tipped forwards towards her. She gives him her calm. )

Yes... I feel— Yes. ( He whispers it, manages to speak the words. He takes her calm, feels it soft and warm inside of himself. The edges of him are still frayed and strange, and he shudders softly, but she's here now. He keeps his eyes closed, shuts off some of his host's senses so he can concentrate on how Luna feels. After a few long moments, the tension in him is easing off, and he relaxes against her hands, leaning into them. He speaks, slow and odd but capable of it a bit better, now. Finally capable of explaining the reality of it. )

My vessel.... he is calming. ....Calmed. From your potions. But I— I am..... still.... wrong. I am not fixed.

( Whatever frenzied energy is moving through this place, it's staying with him. )

And it.... grows worse. ( He frowns, but his eyes stay closed. ) I do not like it.

[creidim]

[ As difficult as things have been, she still knows she's responsible for him. She can't do nothing, she has to help him. And it feels precarious at first, his eyelids fluttering, his laboured breaths — everything inside of him still so restless, agitated. But she holds firm, keeps up with the gesture; her thumbs gently stroking along his cheekbones, keeps him carefully held in her hands. It helps, she thinks. Slowly, slowly, it helps.

She's reminded of the jar she'd made for him, the little space to keep him safe when he'd be nothing but a shape of light. How content he'd been inside of it. He leans into her hands, eyes closing. This is another little space to keep him safe, she realises. She looks at him for a long moment, letting him have the quiet, the peace of it, until he can bring himself to speak. ]

... They're not working for you like they do for Peter—? [ Oh. Oh, no. She hadn't even considered that, she'd honestly thought the potions effects would likely benefit Paimon as well as Peter. Luna exhales softly, her brow furrowing slightly, regretful. ] I'm sorry, I didn't realise.

[ This is... troubling. A problem. And she knows fine well how serious it is when he mentions it's getting worse, how bad it might get. Luna tries not to dwell too much on that thought, not wanting to send herself back to how bad things had been — considering that night. She keeps focused on here and now, on how to fix this — a solution to this.

He's reached out before things get too bad, even as difficult as it is now, even with the distance between them. He's asking for her help, and she truly appreciates that. He's trying to be gentle with her, learn from his mistakes. Something in her expression softens as she looks up at him and she nods. Alright, they can do this. ]

It's alright, we just need to... just try a different way. [ If the potions don't work, they can do something else. She can try something else for him. ] Maybe... maybe it might help if we can keep you busy, focused. Try a few different things, so you're not thinking about what's affecting you.

[ She very well can't stand here petting his face for the rest of the night, it's not very practical. It's helping, yes. But surely there are other things to try, ways to keep him calmed, soothed. She considers for a moment: keeping him busy by helping her might do, letting him shift his focus on tasks that'll soothe his spirit, keep him close to her energy. These are things that help him normally, after all. ]

It's just you and me, alright—? We'll get you better. [ A beat. ] How about you help me make dinner? Would you like to do that with me?

[ A start. ]

[possessum]

( There's a soft shake of his head; he seems almost regretful to relay the news to her. It isn't a mark of her skill, her potions themselves; Paimon has nothing but faith in his Witch's capabilities... especially since they've been working just fine for Peter. No, it's... just him that they don't seem to reach, and the demon doesn't understand why. He's been waiting for them to, but... time has only proven that they won't, and he's been growing worse and worse.

'I'm sorry', Luna says, and Paimon finally opens his eyes again, widening them like saucers. She doesn't need to be; he doesn't want her to be. He's shaking his head a little, mouth tipped open, giving a soft whine of a sound.

But of course Luna's offering suggestions, and he listens attentively despite his upset, dark eyes wide and wet. 'Just you and me'. Something to focus on, stay connected to, the most important thing, person, for him to do that with. He hesitates though, still afraid he might... hurt her again. The fear wears itself on his face, round eyes shifting around a little, body stiffening, like he doesn't dare to move. For a moment, he's breathing strangely again — soft, staggered little exhales. Then he nods again, almost mournfully. One of his arms slowly lifts again, hand creeping to gently curl into the material of her shirt, like he's hanging on. But it's a cautious act, some distance remaining to it, only barely touching. He knows she's still nervous of him. )

I want to.

( Weirdly, it seems like there's a 'but' lingering there.... It hangs in the silence for a few long moments. Of course he'll listen to her suggestion — even if framed not as an order, because his Witch never orders him to do things unless the situation calls for it; she asks him what he'd... like, what he wants. He'll listen, but he can't help expressing a concern.... )

....But are you scared? Of me. Right now.

( He knows what's been so wrong between them isn't fixed. It's still there, both of them can still feel it. And he doesn't want to.. upset her any more than she already is. )

I don't want to make you scared.

[creidim]

[ She sees it in him before he says anything, the reluctance, how he reaches for her but there's caution in the gesture. Her hands fall still, gently holding his face but paused in any motion, also most in waiting for him to speak. There's a soft inhale at the question, lips parting to speak but no answer comes. Not right away, anyway. There's a lot of wrongness between them, they both realise that. But there isn't... an easy way to put things right. ]

I know. [ Truly, she does. It's never been his intention to harm her, to scare her. He's never wanted that, and she knows it. He told her right from the very beginning that he never wanted to hurt her. Things have just been unfortunate, difficult. She doesn't know how to explain it, but she knows she has to try. He deserves her honesty more than anything, but she knows deep down they can't stay this way — never interacting, never acknowledging. ]

This is... difficult. What you did— [ He knows. He knows it reminds her of something painful. He's seen it for himself what happened to her, back home. How... she'd been treated. And he knows that effects her too, how sensitive he is to her. Luna swallows thickly, shakes her head. ] I— I know it's not the same thing, just that it... reminds me of it.

[ Luna's eyes lower from his. Being reminded of it... hurt her. But she understands that it was never something he intentionally set out to do. He's never wanted to harm her, and he's been regretful of the fact that he sent her down the dark rabbit holes within her mind. And Luna doesn't know if it'll be something that might always happen, doesn't know if there will be things that will always remind her of that pain, cause her more hurt. But she can't associate Paimon's past actions with it, not with their bond. Not when they have this... relationship with one another. ]

But I know that I— I can't let that control me. I know there's something... wrong in me, and I need to... fix it. You... aren't the ones who hurt me. [ There's a soft inhale, a silent sigh. She doesn't know how. She needs to find out... how to do that. How not to associate the two; Paimon is not Bellatrix Lestrange. His actions are not hers. ]

And you asked— [ Her brow furrows for a moment. This, tonight, hasn't been a repeat. She hasn't been faced with violence, with that wild, lost rage. He.. did something different this time. He didn't lash out. Didn't break things, didn't scare her in the dark. He knew not to do that this time. He knew he'd done things wrong, and he learned this time he needed to ask her for help. Calmly. Gently. He's... trying to be gentler with her. ]

You waited, and you asked for my help. You learned, didn't you? That... that means a great deal to me.

[ Being wrong is so difficult for him, not having the ability to really deal with it properly. He can't lash out at himself, his vessel. He can't lash out at all. Luna looks up at him again; slowly her thumbs move again, resuming their gentle pets of his cheeks — softly tracing along his cheekbones. ]

It... helps me be less afraid of you. [ It's not something completely fixed, but it's a start. It's finally starting to pick up the pieces; things can be put right again. They have to be. ] I need to learn, too. I don't want to be afraid forever.

[possessum]

( The gesture of reaching for her is almost childlike, and after a moment he lets go again, standing there mournfully as he listens to her. Much time has passed since... the incidents, and there are some things he's still processing, and others he's been able to process pretty well. He understands most of it by now: why Luna reacted the way she had to him, why it's still hard for her to... heal from it. She was hurt so badly, and it's similar in ways to how Peter was hurt so badly, too. The types of wounds that run so deeply that other things can remind you of them — and not only that, but actually bring you back to some emotionally raw, upset state that is out of your control.

...And Paimon, too, can relate to that. When Maul tore into that certain... place of him, that violent, screaming place, it was familiar to the demon. To what others had done to him once (the word feels like rip, like being ripped; the way he was ripped from host to host, torn so forcefully from them; it... devastated every piece of him). He's still having to remember exactly what was done to him, still can't quite understand it — maybe someday he'll be able to — but he does very much understand now that he can turn raw and upset and uncontrolled, too. It's a strange awareness in him now, that he doesn't want to become that way again. That he can.... relate to Luna in that regard, now. Oh... That's something to think more about, when he's able to.

'I know there's something... wrong in me, and I need to... fix it.' Those words elicit a soft shudder from the demon, those words that feel like an echo of himself. There's a sort of... ache, that Luna feels that way, because he knows what it's like. ....And Peter, too, has said much of the same — There's something wrong in me.... Paimon is starting to understand his vessel in new ways, as well.

Less afraid of him... It isn't perfect, isn't fully resolved, but it's something. It means something big. That he came to her before things got so bad that he couldn't control himself anymore. That he asked for her help. Paimon's eyes suddenly fill with actual tears — some overflow of emotion he still doesn't know how to deal with. He is... happy, he thinks, pleased — proud? Sad, too. There's an upset for Luna, for her emotional state, for the painful, hurting things that are making her wrong inside. )

I will help you. Fix it. The way you help me. ( His eyes stay locked on Luna's for a long moment, then the darker pair slowly lower down to stare at her nose. Remembering that part of her pain, too. What happened the first time was... hazier and more strange; he was in a frenzy when he'd smashed his way into her room. But the second incident... the time where he'd been one with Luna, for those few moments... he remembers it all too clearly. Sometimes he sees it happen again in his dreams — bleeding into Peter's.

He's still staring at her nose when he says it. Remembering when it was their nose; their pain. )

I am sorry.

( The demon's tongue catches oddly in his mouth before he continues, eyes slowly lifting to his witch's again, as she continues petting him. She's still afraid in ways, but she's trying. He'll try, too. )

I want to keep... learning. Keep getting better. We— ( He inhales at the word, feeling the intensity of it, of we, move through him. ) —will learn together.

( And then after a moment, that shy, almost childlike nature peeks out again; the demon fluctuating between severe proclamations and gentle timidity. )

....Can I put the things on the table, too...? ( ...He really likes doing that, setting the table. Arranging things. )

[creidim]

[ The tears surprise her, how full his eyes become with them. Emotions have always been... strange things for him, she knows. Expressing them even stranger. Luna stares for a moment; she suspects he doesn't like the thought of her... being wrong, being sad. He's close to her energy, her emotions — there'll be things he doesn't want for her. She knows he's wanted to put things right before, like when he'd taken the ache from her tattoo last year, and when he tells her he'll help she knows he will.

There's a nod, the smallest smile of thanks at her lips. Things are still wrong, but this... is a step in the right direction. And then his gaze lowers, he stumbles a little: I am sorry. Luna's eyes flutter at that, her expression shifts. An apology. He's... never really apologised to her for what's happened between them, has he? He said he didn't want to do it again, didn't want to scare her or harm her but... didn't actually tell her he was sorry for the thing he'd done. She stares at him when his eyes return to herself, touched by the words. Apologies can mean a great deal. Even when he didn't... really mean to harm her, he's still sorry for doing it. ]

Thank you. For apologising. [ She keeps petting his face, mirroring her words of thanks with the gesture. She appreciates it, she really does. ] I forgive you.

[ Even if he wasn't really to blame, not really. She forgives him. He wants to better, for himself and for her. She wants herself to do better, too. To try to work out how to move past it. They're a team too, aren't they? Like how she is with Peter. They'll learn together, she likes that.

... And then comes the hesitant question, he wants to help set the table for them. It startles a little breath out of her, softly voiced with the sound of mirth. Her shoulder sink slightly, a hint of a smile at her lips. ]

That would be good. [ She nods. ] I'd like for you to do that, yes.

[ Finally, she moves her hands away from his face. It's already late with her arriving home, they should really get started. She doesn't know how long Paimon's going to stay present for, but it's better she gets him as calm as possible in whatever time she has with him. Hopefully she can coax him to eat once they're done cooking: Peter needs to eat, after all.

Very carefully, she takes one of his hands, holds it lightly with hers. He'll not want to be too far from her just yet, she suspects — so she'll lead him through to the kitchen. She tugs gently at his hand for him to follow, leading the way. ]

Let's get started, we need to go wash out hands first.