deercountry | All men must die, but first he must live.

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All men must die, but first he must live.

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. Growing Pains (Crenshaw, OTA)(cw: minor blood ritual)

Orpheus takes a little bit to get around to doing the ritual. It's not that he doesn't want to - the idea of it, of trying to settle into his new life here and leave the past behind - has its appeal, and he's also a little apprehensive about offending the locals or the powers that be by refusing to take part in something so simple. It's just, what to bury? What does he have on him, that's significant enough to matter but small enough that he won't miss it too terribly? The temptation is strong to hold on to every scrap of what came before, hoard them like precious things because he knows he'll never get them back, but that goes against the point, doesn't it?

Eventually he settles on an old guitar pick, carried with him throughout his time in Deerington. He doesn't use it while playing, preferring to play fingerstyle, and if he needs another one he's sure he can find something here, but it is something from home. His old home.

Taking a deep breath, he kneels by a patch of bare earth in what looks to be a small park and digs a hole with his hands, dropping in the pick and patting the soil back over it. Nervously, he pulls a small pocket knife out of his jacket, turning it over in his hands before pressing the tip of the blade to his finger.

It's the first time he's seen his blood since he arrived here. It's white, like Vira-Lorr's had been, shimmering and vaguely sweet-smelling. He spends a moment just staring at the droplet beading on his fingertip before remembering why he's here and holding it out over the little mound of dirt, letting the drop of blood fall. This ritual doesn't seem to have any words or prayers associated with it, but it feels appropriate to say something, so he bows his head and murmurs,

II. Exploring (Around the city, OTA)

Later on, Orpheus can be found wandering the streets of Trench, carrying a small white tulip planted in a teacup that some kindly citizen was nice enough to lend him. He's frowning over it - it's not quite sickly looking, but it does look just the slightest bit wilted. As he makes his way around, one might find him sitting on the edge of one of the city's fountains sprinkling water over it carefully, or with it set down next to him on a bench as he plays his guitar, eyes closed and brows furrowed in apparent concentration. The trees above him in their autumn coats sway and ripple as if in a breeze no one else can feel, almost looking as if they're leaning in towards him to listen, but the tulip is unmoved, sitting still and unresponsive in its cup.

Sighing, Orpheus sets his guitar down next to him and cradles the cup in his hands, bringing the flower up to his face.

III. River of Regret (The River, OTA)(cw: corpses)

This is admittedly something that Orpheus has been kind of expecting ever since he got here? Well, not this specifically. Claiming that he saw it coming when he picked up the raven feather, thinking it might make a nice gift for Eurydice and got swept up in a cloud of screaming birds for his trouble would be laughable, but he'd been waiting for something like this to happen ever since washing up on the shore. Trench may not be a dream like Deerington was, but it seems like they're not out of the woods when it comes to strange occurrences dredging up the past, so to speak.

He regards the corpses with all due horror, but there's a sense of resigned apprehension to him on top of the general dismay. Even from a distance, he knows these won't just be random bodies, and sure enough as soon as they draw near enough to see he recognizes the grease-stained leather overalls of Hadestown's workers. His eyes go wide. They're - not who he might've expected to see, but it makes sense, doesn't it? He abandoned them too, when he looked back.

He glances at his companion in the boat, sympathetic and still very resigned.

( It's the sound of music that calls to Peter; he hasn't heard anything like that since arriving in this strange, dreary place. It's peaceful, and very nice — and though his own guitar hasn't been touched at all since he came here, music remains very important to Peter. It's... comfort, safety. He's following the sound of it, a quiet-footed ghost wandering over cobblestoned streets until he finds the fountain, and sees the young man sitting at it, guitar in lap.

He.... recognises him, he thinks, though Peter's memory is still strange and hazy. It all still feels a little dreamlike for him, even though they're meant to have woken from the dream. Even here and now, how the trees near the boy sway, their autumn leaves fluttering — it's dreamlike. Peter only hesitates a moment before he's drifting closer, and he's holding a flower of his own close to his chest: a tiny white daisy in a small pot. By the time he's approaching, the other boy has stopped playing guitar and is lifting his flower close to his face, seeming a bit disheartened. )

Is something wrong with yours? Mine's been a little finicky. ( Peter pipes up in his soft voice, holding up his own flower in gesture. At the moment it's fine, but it sometimes wilts again. Usually at night, when it's harder for Peter to not let himself slip into the usual sadness, the deep ache of the past. )

Hmm?

[ Orpheus looks up from his flower, a little startled by the other boy what with having been too wrapped up in his own little world to notice his approach. Now that he's paying attention, though, he recognizes this person. He spoke to him once before, at the end of the dream when things were really starting to fall apart. What was his name again? Hm.

Either way, he's been asked a question, and he glances back at his flower before shrugging. ]

I'm not sure. It looks like it's wilting a little bit to you too, right? [ He holds it out for him to see. ] It's been like this for a few days. It's not getting worse, but it's not getting better either? I'm not sure what else to do for it.

( Peter looks down at the other's flower, studying it thoughtfully for a moment. )

Mine does that sometimes, too. Usually when I'm... thinking too much about things. ( He admits with a quiet smile, almost a little self-deprecatory. ) I'm not sure if they're connected to our... moods? But if yours isn't changing, maybe it's because something's stagnant?

( He pauses, realises he's just wandered up out of nowhere and started talking about flowers, so a beat later he quickly adds— )

—Sorry to interrupt you, by the way. I just— I heard you playing. You're really good.

Oh, that makes sense. [ says Orpheus, glancing back down at his flower and frowning thoughtfully. It grew from a piece of his past and a drop of his blood, after all. It'd probably be weirder if it wasn't connected to him in some way. But what does it mean? It's probably not just mood, he's felt better and worse without the flower taking a noticeable turn.

He's a little lost in his thoughts when the other boy goes on, and has to take a second to register what's just been said, blinking at him before breaking out in a sheepish smile. ]

Thanks! I thought it might help with the flower? Sometimes if I play well enough, it helps plants grow. But I think you're right, about this being maybe more about what's going on with me than anything else.

Oh, for real? ( He's pretty sure he's heard of people claiming that playing music to plants can help them grow, but this could also be some kind of more literal Power Thing. Peter hesitates, always a little shy to ask people questions about stuff like that. )

Is it... some kind of magic?

( He ventures: and as he asks, there's a little flicker in his memory. This young man.. he has magic, doesn't he? Peter had seen it once. Or... he had some kind of magical item, at least. Like a coat—

—It's maybe more of Paimon who's remembering that now, because the experience had left Quite the Impact on the demon. Peter's gazing at him for a long moment, and then gives a soft exhale. )

I... met you once. Back in Deerington. Sorry, I— it's taking me a little while to... remember things.

Sort of! It's a blessing. A gift from the gods of the world I came from.

[ Which, to his mind at least, is distinct from magic, which he's always thought of as something that was earned through study and effort and dedication. His gifts, on the other hand, were something that came naturally to him, and that he also had little direct control over. Not that he voices this distinction, assuming just assuming that the other man will understand it as he does. ]

You did, [ he confirms, nodding. ] I, um. I don't remember if we introduced ourselves? I was sort of in a hurry, I think. But I'm Orpheus! It's nice to see you again.

Oh, that sounds really nice. There aren't.... gods where I came from, so all of that is still pretty new to me. This place... ( It tapers off as he looks down to the daisy in his hands. This place seems to function in a similar way — there are... gods here, beings to make sacrifice to, and it's all still very strange for Peter.

...Well, the demon functions that way too, though. Through sacrifice and reward: exchange. It's Peter's reality now, on multiple levels. ) ...I'm still learning how to deal with all that.

( There's a little smile at that, and he's giving a soft laugh, almost self-deprecatory. ) I can't remember either, honestly. My mind's still kind of fuzzy about everything that happened in the.. the end. But I'm Peter. And yeah, you too!

( The younger boy looks back down to Orpheus's guitar— ) I uh, I actually play a little myself, though I'm not nearly as good as you.

[ Orpheus nods. ] It sounds like where I come from is kind of unusual that way? Compared to most of the other people I met in Deerington.

[ And admittedly Orpheus still has kind of a hard time imagining how an entire world could keep on turning in order and relative harmony without gods to keep things on track, but as curious as he is that's a whole different conversation and fortunately he has it in him not to derail this one with questions about the laws of nature. ]

It's a little hard to remember everything that happened? Like waking up from a dream, I guess. [ Orpheus affirms, and lights up a little when Peter mentions playing as well. ] Oh! Do you? That's great! It seems like there's a lot of musicians here. I'd love to hear you play something sometime, if you're interested!

I know a lot of people who do come from worlds with magic, but... actual gods do seem to be kinda rare.

( There's a curiosity in Peter too, regarding all of that: gods, how worlds with those would function.... Especially considering his own situation, it might be... good for him to learn more about that. He's still a little too gunshy, nervous, in the here and now to ask too much — plus he doesn't want to dip into potentially personal business of the poor guy when he barely knows him — but it's something Peter will keep in mind to maybe ask him more about sometime.

Hopefully he won't be forgetting Orpheus again, if his head can manage to stay his own. (...Unbeknownst to him, however, Paimon has his own curiosities regarding the Young Man With the Magical Jacket.) )

Yeah, I do the uh, guitar and keys. ( Peter smiles again, looking down to Orpheus's instrument for a moment. ) It's been awhile since I played either of em regularly, but— I'd love to maybe get some tips from you sometime? If you'd be up for it. Your stuff sounds like a total professional, dude.

Right. Or at least gods that like to talk to mortals very often.

[ He's heard a little bit about the deities of other worlds, apparently on the much shier side than the Olympians and their peers, only making contact every here and there. It's a little difficult for him trying to get his head around a god that doesn't want to be the center of attention or close to it, but still easier than imagining no god at all. ]

Oh! I play the piano, too! And, thank you. I've been playing music more or less since before I could walk? And I've had a lot of fantastic teachers. [ He beams. ] So I'd be more than happy to pass on what they taught me. Just let me know whenever you feel like it!

...Orpheus...?

[it took longer than he'd like to remember the name. it's less to do with Orpheus and more to do with himself, with all that's gone on, with all the things that have happened between him and the last time he'd seen the strange, sad-eyed man with the guitar and weird power to become a deer.

that...and he needed to hear the voice to be extra certain. it's why Manabu, in passing by with the annoying little dog at his feet, stopped and stared for longer than was polite. after he speaks up, said dog makes a soft whine, head tilting.]

Is...is that you? Or-- [or maybe he's just some other sad, musically-inclined man.]

[ Orpheus looks up from where he's kneeling over the patch of now very slightly bloody dirt and smiles, waving politely. ]

It's me, [ he says, brightly. He's in an unusually good mood today, actually, despite the dark circles under his eyes from a bad night's sleep. Trench has been good to him so far, in one respect in particular, and it's doing a lot to make him feel better about some of his reservations about the place. ] Hi, Manabu. Who's that with you?

[ He gestures to the dog, holding out a hand for it to sniff should it feel so inclined. ]

[Manabu exhales, shoulders sagging for a bit. there's relief in seeing a familiar face, even if he has a sense he oughtn't feel good about anyone showing up into more trouble. maybe if he'd come across Orpheus a few days before the whole...spontaneous combustion stuff began...he'd think differently. but as it stands...]

Uh--huh? What? Oh--

[he blinks, looking down at the little dog who is happily padding over to give Orpheus a good sniff before immediately plunging its head into the open hand for pets.]

Honestly? I, I don't really know. He keeps following me around everywhere, no matter what. I don't even have food on me...

[ Laughing quietly, Orpheus ruffles the fur between the little dog's ears gently. ]

He probably just likes you. [ he says, glancing up at Manabu. Up close it's a little more apparent that he seems sort of worried about something - which isn't unusual for the man, in Orpheus's experience, but still. He frowns slightly, looking concerned. ]

Is something wrong?

Eh? What? [blink blink.] N-no, I...er. I mean. [he grimaces.] I guess...it depends on the 'what'? I, I'm not sure what you mean.

Oh, um. Sorry!

[ Orpheus raises a hand, apologetically. Maybe he was reading too far into things? ]

I just mean in general? It just seemed like there was something on your mind.

Oh... [his mouth quirks. maybe that's okay? better than looking like his head's empty.

he hesitates, then crouches down to eye-level with Orpheus, giving the needy little dog a frown before fixing his attention back to the man.]

I guess...I'm still trying to figure out how to feel about this place. What's going on and stuff. You know?

What are you doing? I mean--right now, not like... [he shrugs.] Like in general.

[ Orpheus nods, sympathetically. He can't help but feel pretty positively towards this new world - it gave him a second chance with Eurydice, and that means he can forgive it a lot - but he understands that most people don't have that sort of immediate positive coloring their impressions. ]

It's a lot to take in? I don't blame you. There's still so much we don't really know about any of what's going on here.

[ And speaking of things they don't understand- ]

Oh, I was just doing a ritual one of the locals taught me? It's supposed to be about letting go of the past and moving forward, and I - hm? [ Orpheus cuts himself off abruptly as he notices a little green stem creeping up out of the mound of dirt in front of him. That definitely wasn't there before. ] Something's growing here!

Huh-?

[Manabu blinks, then approaches, crouching down next to Orpheus to peer at the plant starting to emerge.]

Whoa, that's...that can't be normal, can it? Or do plants just grow really fast on this planet?

I don't know? Sometimes I can do things like this with my music, but I wasn't singing?

[ As if in time-lapse, the little green shoot creeps its way up and out of the soil, a small bud forming at its top and unfurling into a bright white tulip before their eyes. Blinking at it in confusion and a little bit of wonderment, Orpheus reaches out and runs a fingertip along one of the leaves. ]

It's real.

[another soft "whoa" at that.

beat.

wait.

squinting:] There's no...eyeballs in it, is there?

[ Perhaps ill-advisedly, Orpheus gently prods apart the flower's delicate white petals and peers inside. Thankfully he finds nothing out of the ordinary, and looks over at Manabu, shaking his head. ]

It just looks like a normal flower? Just one that grew really fast. It probably has to do with the ritual?

[ He sits back on his heels, looking at it contemplatively. ]

I wonder if that means I should take it with me.

Or...or maybe you've got some kind of plant-magic now? [Manabu shrugs, rubbing the back of his head.] I mean, that's the talk now, right? Getting powers here...

[he's not entirely sure he can buy it. well, he can maybe buy it for other people, but not so much for himself.]

Maybe... [ he says, thoughtfully. ] Like I said, sometimes I can make flowers bloom by playing well enough.

[ He nods to the guitar on his back. ]

But I've never done it without music? And I didn't - feel anything, the way I normally do when I do something like that, this time. But maybe the way the magic of this place works is different.

Orpheus | Hadestown

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