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

luna lovegood | harry potter

[creidim]

☽ all around the world was waking | growing pains
cw: minor blood ritual

[ Luna's been watching with keen eyes, the native citizens taking part in the same thing: the burying of objects, the pin-prick of blood and the bloom of a singular flower. When she stops to speak to a native one day, they explain to her the meaning behind it. A time of personal sacrifice. They're making promises to themselves, looking to the future.

It's not something she hasn't considered before. It's something that's been playing on her mind a great deal, ever since the Moss King brought them the eggs, the representations of those in Deerington, of herself. She'd faced a decision: to return home, to go with the path that seemed set in her world, or to stay; to make her own path. To see what this new world would bring. To stay with a boy she loves very much, and who loves her in return. To have a chance to let herself grow, no longer under the shadow of war and possible death.

In amongst a crowd of people all busy with their own rituals, she stands and watches for a while. For a while, she's quiet, simply respectfully observing. She holds a magazine in her hands, keeps it tucked against her chest: a little dog-eared and crumpled, something that's been well-read several times. Something of her past. But she quickly realises she's not alone as she stands, another Sleeper joining her. She's quiet for a little longer before she finally speaks: her voice hushed. ]

It seems oddly fitting, doesn't it?

☽ in the hollows of my eyelids | river of regret
cw: olfactory descriptions decomposition; eventually corpses, birds eating corpses, themes of regret, possible drowning | note: Luna is here to witness your regrets!

I... think it's best we stay in the boat.

[ Luna's peering over the edge of the canoe, staring thoughtfully at the waters. They've been dumped in the boats for a reason, of course they have. Some kind of new trick, just like Deerington. They're being taken somewhere, but to where she isn't sure. Who knows, really. But something is directing the boats, pulling them down-stream. They're not just floating without direction. A bit like Hogwarts, with the boats across the lake all first years will take, they're moving with purpose.

But it seems so peaceful here. That's what seems so unfair about it all. The sun feels pleasantly warm; dances off the water's surface, illuminates the trees either side of the river. It's certainly idyllic. Luna hopes this is something good, but part of her knows that it's folly to not be suspicious. Something terrible could happen. Still, at the very least they can enjoy the ride along the river.

And then it hits her: the sickly-sweet, putrid smell; almost indescribable. Her nose burns with it, and her stomach twists uncomfortably. She can't place it, can't find anything else to liken it too. But something in her knows it's familiar in a way, too. Like she's smelled this before. A kind of rot, a specific kind of rot. It flashes cold in her stomach and she looks up from the water, looking around as if to find a source. There's nothing, not yet. The river bends up ahead. Her hand moves to her nose, the hairs of her back of her neck prickling painfully. Wrong, she thinks, a knee-jerk response to the smell. Something about this is wrong. Unnatural. Get away. ]

.. Do you smell that—?

☽ no kiss, no gentle word | bloodsport
cw: magical potions, potions that emotionally manipulate the drinker

[ For those trying to resist the effects of the bloodsport, it's going to be a trying month. However, it's handy to have a witch on hand for this sort of thing. For those who know Luna Most of the sleeping draughts in her store that she'd made have been used up, but she still has a great deal of calming potions left. For those who know John Constantine and his shop, they might have been aware of such potions that her were sold in his shop. She'd been the one supplying them. Anyone who knows of Luna or John is welcome to go to her to see if there's anything she can do to help with their symptoms. The potions in question are usually best suited to calming down people after a shock, but they'll be good enough to push down the feelings to fight and offer a gentle kind of tranquil peace for a time.

But for the most part, Luna simply wanders around Trench. Part of it is exploring the city, the other districts — still getting to grips with the new terrain. But she's also carrying a supply of potions on her like a sort of travelling apothecary of sorts to offer them to those struggling with the urges to fight. There's nothing necessarily wrong with fighting, that is. But when something's making them want to fight—? No, no that's not right.

Sometimes it's obvious to tell if someone's under the effects, others it's a little more subtle. It's there in people's faces, behind the eyes; in the way they hold themselves, rigid limbs or hunched shoulders. Luna's watching people carefully, wide eyes taking in people as they go about their business. She'll offer a kind smile before approaching, her head tilting a little. ]

You seem a little tense.

[ contact heolstor or heolstor#5725 for plotting. plotting post here | general catch-all here ]

Bury the Past

[onerthes]

In a way. It almost feels like we're putting a piece of ourselves into this world, yet again. I wonder how much it will ask of us?

[She smiled in a way that said she wasn't entirely serious with that suggestion. Oh, she was a little concerned, but this seemed harmless. A small ritual, a drop of blood and giving up a token of one's past. It helped that she was less sentimental than a lot of people she knew.

Cocking her head over at Luna, she winked once and grinned at her.]

May I ask about what you're burying?

[creidim]

That, but something perhaps less sinister, too. It's a new world, a new path to take. Letting go of one's past and beginning anew, you know? [ Or so she hopes that's perhaps the idea here, she'd like to believe it's something more... positive. But Luna knows fine well it's quite smart to remain vigilant. She's certainly been watching for a while, not too quick to jump in. ]

A copy of my dad's magazine. [ Luna offers it to her to have a look. She'll recognise where Luna's network username has come from, and if she opens it to look inside, she'll not there's something distinctly magical about the magazine: some of the pictures move, the text too. ] I know choosing to come here meant I had to leave home behind. Not just 'home' as in my world, either.

[ It meant leaving behind her actual home, too. Her dad. ]

[onerthes]

It's certainly less sinister than some alternatives, yes. It almost feels wholesome in a way. [The idea of it wasn't something she was really opposed to, and what she'd buried? Well, she really did need to put it behind her as is. This seemed almost comparatively harmless.]

mmmm, this is actually quite cute. [It looked a bit like a magical conspiracy theory collection. Very colorfully done and ... was it mobile?] I think that I understand. Both of us... we're choosing to leave something of ourselves behind and take on a future here aren't we?

☽ in the hollows of my eyelids

[droptheious]

[Varian really didn't want to end up kidnapped by ravens. Things have been stressful enough, adjusting to this world, to the powers he has to try and navigate now. The exhaustion and anxiety already swirling around in his brain is not making the transition any easier, and now he's stuck in a boat with someone he categorically doesn't want to be trapped anywhere with. ]

Knowing our luck, the water's toxic or full of murdercrabs or something.

[The murdercrabs was the worst way to arrive in this place, honestly. He's about to settle in for a boat ride of stony silence when the smell hits him too. He's been in this place long enough to recognise it for what it is, and it makes his stomach churn. He sits up a little, trying to squint past the turn- he thinks he can see something- spikes? It looks like spikes.]

Did someone drive a bunch of spikes into theoooooohhhnooooo.

[He can't see any faces or really make out the shapes yet- but there's something on the spikes and it's clear they're bodies. They found the source of the smell, at least. ]

[creidim]

It doesn't look toxic. [ It isn't a dig, but a simple observation. Luna frowns for a long moment. She'd really not like to be stuck in this boat, either. Especially not with Varian. ] But you're right, there's probably something malicious to it. Calm waters often hide malicious depths.

[ Never mess around with water. Especially when you don't have the means to keep yourself safe. Luna frowns again: .... Murdercrabs? Oh, she missed that. Fortunately. There's not much time to really dwell on it all that much, considering the very distracting stench in the air. She lifts her head to try and see too, looking over Varian's shoulder — her face grows white: Oh. Oh, no.

She doesn't recognise any of them, certainly not from this distance. But she's not thinking about that, she's drawing her wand, looking around the boat for an oar — something. The boat's empty, though. Unless: ]

Do you have anything in your pockets? A pen? Pencil? Anything.

[ Something she can transfigure into an oar, she will take anything at this point. ]

[droptheious]

Appearances can be deceiving. Sarin looks harmless, but if you breathe in the vapours, you're going to have a pretty terrible death pretty quickly. [He's just...putting that out there. ] But yeah, it can. Especially in this place- I know we haven't been here long, but I'm not holding my breath it's gonna be that much different from Deerington.

[He tries his best not to hope. She can be glad she missed the murdercrabs. They were not a fun time. But then, this doesn't look like a fun time, either. Those are very blatantly bodies, he can make out an arm, a leg, a head. ]

I should have a charcoal pencil on me [he's rummaging in his pockets on his belt, pulling one out, raising it to her while he catches a glimpse of long, blonde hair- matted with blood and his face pales as he freezes in place] no.

[Now they're closer, he can recognise the bodies- so grotesquely displayed. He recognises loved ones, friends, family, people of Corona. There's a lot of them, piles of bodies tied together to posts or jammed through spikes. He continues to stare, wide-eyed, his hand with the pencil in staying comically in mid-air, reached to offer it to her.]

No kiss, no gentle word

[incandescentfaith]

Do I?

[Rei tilted her head at Luna, her eyes dark with concern, posture anything but relaxed. Her shoulders were hunched, her jaw rigid, and she felt...odd, though she had yet to identify the source of the unexplained tightness in her. She just felt like a spring ready to pop at any moment. She'd been wandering to clear her head, figuring that she might find something out there to explain this feeling, or work it off. It wasn't pleasant, but she thought she had a better handle on it than that. At least enough to avoid giving herself away.

Studying Luna a moment, she felt something, some flicker of insight twitching at the back of her mind. Perhaps this might be the solution. An answer, maybe? ]

...Do you have a solution for that, Luna?

[creidim]

Unfortunately so. Your body language is quite awful right now, you're all coiled up like you're going to strike. [ Such a way with words is Luna Lovegood, but she's hardly one to beat around the bush. But certainly, she's not holding herself like usual. Luna smiles sympathetically, head tilting to one side. ] It seems it's quite universal.

[ Which is... worrying, really. If everyone's all so reared up, it's clear how well that's going to go. The last thing they need is all out fighting when they've just gotten here. She nods at Rei's question, eager to help. ]

I do. I've been going around offering potions to those who look like they need it. Would you like one?

[incandescentfaith]

[Rei's brow furrows a little, her eyes tightening at the edges. She's curious, but as with all things, she doesn't like the idea of rushing in.]

...what does it do, Luna?

[It's as close to an admission that she's been caught and is interested as can be expected. Rei, of course, hates the idea of admitting weakness.]

river of regret

[bolstafir]

[There's definitely more ideal circumstances than to get forcibly relocated by corvids (the betrayal!) into a boat with an unknown teenager, but at first it's not so terrible. He shares her suspicion, though; there's definitely an intent to this ride, and he is already certain it is nothing good. Whenever he lost track of where he was in Deerington, it meant he was about to have to submit to some manner of uncomfortable trial, and he expects no different now.

Then the smell hits his nose and ah, there's the rub, isn't it.]

It's probably related to whatever we need to deal with to get out of this boat.

[Hopefully it won't be like the car ride and involve crashing.....or so his train of thought would've gone, if the boat wasn't pulling up to the source of said smell, and Qrow's entire frame tenses up. The young woman on the bank looks almost like Ruby Rose...or at least, the way she might look if she were a decade or so older, if she swapped out her red cape for a white one. The silver eyes stare lifelessly out into the void, seeing nothing. They feel like an accusation all the same.

After a moment, he forces himself to close his eyes. He can't come undone in front of some kid he doesn't even know.]

well guess i didn't need my heart today :')

[creidim]

I had a feeling that might be the case, yes. [ She utters it quietly, shirking back slightly in the boat. When wouldn't it be, really? It seems Trench is keen to deal them some difficult blows. Her hand stays at her nose, taking breaths from her mouth. But even then she still feels like she can smell it, taste it — it's a smothering stench, something that clings like a cold fog.

Nothing they can do, unfortunately. She looks to the man for a moment; they'll just have to be too unhappy travellers, trapped on this boat ride. And then the body comes into view and Luna baulks, white as a ghost.

While he's able to tell the difference, Luna isn't. She knows Ruby has a striking resemblance to her mother but she's never seen any photos of her to tell the difference. To her, that's Ruby — the longer hair and similar appearance almost identical from this distance. It... really, really does look like her.

And from the way he tenses up, maybe he knows it's Ruby too. ]

... Ruby—? No, no— [ Luna shakes her head, quietly pleading. ] We.. we have to do something.

sorry for the delay!! life happened at me real hard lmfao. boards the pain train late with starbucks

[bolstafir]

[For all he'd tensed up, the girl's distressed reaction catches him off-guard. She must be one of Ruby's friends from Deerington, one he hadn't gotten a chance to meet in the dream. Qrow had never really gone out of his way to meet people in Deerington, honestly, preferring to stick close to his family and those that came to be affiliated with them -- The Pineses. Willow. Gerry. Vyng, for all they had awkward history now.

Somehow, the fact that Luna's terrified for Ruby's sake makes this easier to handle than it would've been if she had no idea who the corpse in the river resembled. If all she could piece together was that she was a skeleton, as it were, in his closet. Qrow shakes his head.]

That's not Ruby.

[His tone is too tight to be reassuring, but perhaps Luna can take some comfort in the words themselves, if she can believe them.]

It's her mom. Summer. She's been gone a long time.

no kiss, no gentle word (mildly wildcard-ish)!

[thenovice]

[Diarmuid finds he's often rather calm, even with the effects of the bloodsport. Perhaps because of his daily prayer and singing of psalms, and from the strange and almost comforting aura of the holy relic that sits beneath his bed, or perhaps the protection amulet around his neck the Magicians had given him so long ago - but he's doing well. And he shall be even more well when he recognizes the head of lovely blonde hair wandering just ahead of him.]

Luna!

[He calls out in a tone that can barely contain his excitement, throwing back his patched-up hood and walking closer to be sure; oh, he shall be both mortified and deeply unhappy if she's not who he thinks she is...!]

that's cool!

[creidim]

[ Fortunately, he's not mistaken. Luna is exactly who he believes it to be, her head turning to look behind her with wide eyes for a short moment before a wide, beaming grin spreads across her face.

She hasn't seen him for what feels like an age, not long after the Sleepers made their decisions, a little while before they stepped through the door. It wasn't really that long ago, but it feels like it. So much has happened to them all. She doesn't know if everyone made it through. ]

Diarmuid—!

[ And with that, she's fully turning around to him; hurrying to meet him and closes the gap with a very tight hug.

Hello, friend. She's missed you. ]

I'm very glad to see you.

no gentle word

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse is one of those people where it's probably easier to tell that she's having a tough time with the whole bloodsport thing. Let's be honest, she's about two seconds away from getting into a fistfight at the best of times, and this month hasn't been the best for her. When Luna comes upon her she's wandering around Trench at some point after dark, running her knuckles along the brick wall next to her, and she looks up, head snapping upright like a predator hearing the soft step of an animal, when she hears Luna's voice. ]

What's that supposed to mean? [ Only after the words are spoken does she seem to fully recognize the person she'd snapped them at. ] Oh... Luna. Didn't know it was you.

[ Not the way she imagined she'd be greeting Luna after last seeing her in Deerington, but then, she hadn't imagined... this, either. These feelings inside her, making her want to lash out at anyone who crosses her path. Maybe she should have been prepared for it, or something like it, but she hadn't been at all. ]

[creidim]

[ Honestly, even with not knowing what to expect out of a first meeting after changing worlds — it still feels oddly fitting that it's perhaps not the most normal of interactions. Not that there's ever such a thing as 'normal', not in Deerington and certainly not here.

But she's here to help, holding her hands up — open palms towards Clarisse, easy now. She's come across plenty of people who's been on edge, she's used to it in a way. But no, no fighting today; especially considering the last time they got into a fight. ]

It's alright, Clarisse. [ Disarming, or trying to be. ] Sorry, I suppose the night-time isn't helping. I just thought you looked like you needed some help.

In the hollows of my eyelids

[laminae]

[Fern hates this. It's way too similar to Deerington for his liking, so even as he's looking around he's feeling on edge. Luna's right, there's definitely no way anything good can come of going into the water, but the boat doesn't feel all that safe either. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but it's sketchy water and an even sketchier boat.

He grips the edge of the boat, eyes still scanning for any movement in their surroundings. Anything that might indicate they're about to be ambushed, or being stalked, or whatever. The smell hits him at the same time as it hits her and he makes a face. Great, this place is just screaming bad news at them.]

Yeah. Smells like trouble.

Weirdly enough, with the usual smell of rot there's an additional, sickly sweet scent. He notices it, and the colourful shapes that are coming into view, and that's when he starts debating dunking his hands in the water to use as makeshift oars.]

We should see if we can steer this thing.

[creidim]

[ Trouble, indeed. Luna keeps her hand over her nose, wishing she had something she could use to plug it. It's awful. She cranes her neck around the bend, catching sight of those colourful shapes but doesn't quite know what to make of it. What is that?

Her attention is turned back to Fern when he suggests trying to steer the boat. There's no oars on the boat and it doesn't take long for her to realise what he's thinking of using instead. ]

I don't think we should touch the water, Fern. It looks too calm, too gentle. [ Something like that in a place like this almost seems too good to be true. ] Sometimes there's usually troubling underneath.

[ Maybe not Grindylows or such, but... no, she doesn't trust it. ]

Maybe we could make something? Um— [ She draws her wand, looking about them. ] Could you maybe make me something I could transfigure into an oar?

[ Give her some kind of branch or foliage, perhaps. A flower, even. Can she turn a flower into an oar? She's about to find out. ]

All Around the World Was Waking

[cuddlery]

[The Sleeper that joins her is a rather tall and strong-looking scorpion woman. She was walking around to curiously observe others' rituals, when she noticed this girl holding up a strange book. She meets her with a confused book.]

What- what seems fitting?

[She hasn't yet made the connection. Scorpia's gaze focuses on the magazine, as the cover looks so interesting.]

Also, what's that book? Don't tell me that's what you're going to bury...

[creidim]

Well, we chose to come here, to the new world. It's like a new chapter, a path in our lives. And here everyone is making promises to themselves, to the future. It's new beginnings for everyone.

[ Luna finally turns her head to her company and then realises she has to look up. Merlin, this is a very tall lady. Luna's hardly all that tall herself, so there's really no contest — but still. And— claws—? How curious! ]

Oh—! [ She looks down at her copy of the Quibbler, moving it to show the woman with a smile. ] It's a copy of my dad's magazine, I got it back in Deerington. I thought it would make a good item to represent my past.

☽ in the hollows of my eyelids cw: teenage corpses, passive suicidal thoughts

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul had immediately shut down as soon as he saw who was in the boat with him. Were it not for the fact his metal prosthetics would send him straight to the bottom of the river if he tried to swim, he'd have jumped overboard rather than be forced to spend any amount of time with the little witch. He bares his fangs and then sits in sullen silence.

That is until the smell hits him as well. He knows it for what it is before he sees them: the smell of rotting corpses. Maul's killed a lot of people in his time, and while he doesn't regret all of them, he is capable of feeling it on some level. There's quite a number, most with lightsaber slashes through their chests. There's a small cluster of teenagers, the foremost one a Nautolan girl with purple skin and black eyes who remains pretty even in death. She appears to have died with a small, sad smile on her face. His family is there as well, Savage and his mother Talzin, whose only resemblance to her son is in the black tattooing around her eyes and mouth. Both of them have lightsaber marks in their chests as well, stabbed straight through their hearts. There's a few from Deerington dotting the shore near the front. Usagi, Reaper, Ben, Diarmuid, Varian.

The figure that makes Maul want to just jump overboard and let the river swallow him up as the water fills his lungs is his master Sidious. He appears to have died from falling a great height and is little more than a human-shaped bag of shattered bones that would have collapsed in a heap were it not for the stakes propping him up. Mercifully, his black cloak hides his form well, with only the glowing yellow eyes that are the same shade as his adoptive son's seen peering out from the hood.

Maul doesn't move a muscle as he sits up and stares at all the figures for a long minute, eyes darting from one to the other. It doesn't take a genius to work out the theme here. Well, Maul's not interested in playing any games Trench has to offer today. He just pulls his own black hood over his head and sits back down in the boat without a word. A group therapy session with someone he despises is not his idea of a good time right now.]

this is fiiiiiine :')

[creidim]

[ Of all the people she could end up in a boat with, it had to be this one. It feels like someone's laughing at her, really. And for the most part she resigns to pointedly ignoring him, other than her short comments.

Until the river bends and the scene draws closer. Luna stares, her face white under the sunny haze — there's so many of them. Individuals of peoples she's never come across before and with a hard twist of her stomach: plenty of them around her age. Some a little older, some much younger. The ones who seem similar to Maul, and the strange, twisted heap of a man in black. And then the more familiar ones: some she knows from Deerington. She can't quite look at Varian, her expression pinching for a long moment, and it saddens her to see Usagi, too. But Diarmuid hurts the most, to see him like that — in some crude, ghastly display. She hates it, seeing her dear friend in such a way. It's wrong.

Luna takes a breath, tries to steady herself — even if the stench in the air, more pungent with how close they are now, makes it hard to breath too deeply. She eyes the Sith for a long moment as he pulls his hood down on his head and shifts to ignoring the scene. This is on him, she understands that. These people aren't here for her. ]

I suppose these are here for you. [ She's short with him, her voice quiet, clipped. ] These people are from your world.

in the hollows of my eyelids

[destabilizing]

[ Loki is no stranger to the smell of death. He's seen many battlefields and stood over many corpses in his time, though he can't say he's usually around this less-than-fresh sort of smell and his own face twists in disgust as it rolls over them like a heavy, invisible fog. ]

Yes.

[ Agreement that they should stay in the boat. Agreement that he smells that. It's both, but out of the corner of his eye he keeps catching sight of Luna's blond hair and it's a little too familiar yet not so he closes his eyes. ]

Though I'm not entirely that sure this boat is taking us somewhere we want to go.

[ Letting out a breath, he opens his eyes just in time to see something coming into sight as they move through the water.

A body.

Not just any body. There are scraps of what was once a fine golden asgardian silk dress and strands of blond hair falling from what was once an elegant up-do. Frigga.

He lets out a small sob, barely audible. ]

[creidim]

Oh, no. You're quite right, this sort of thing usually happens from time to time.

[ Not that she's particularly happy in saying that, a kind of dismayed acceptance. She's well versed in the unkind happenings of Deerington. It's... almost expected that this sort of thing would happen here in Trench too. All they can do is wait until whatever it is shows face, two unhappy travellers.

And then it is: a woman. Luna recoils a little at the sight, quietly horrified: no. There's no recognition, but she looks away — some crude, awful display. It's cruel, her hands curling tightly as they rest on her knees.

But there's a hushed sound beside her, she barely catches it. Luna looks up to the man beside her, realisation washing over her face. ]

You know her. [ A beat. ] Who... who is she—?