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

wildcard (lmk if you'd prefer anything changed!)

[possessum]

( He knows who Sam Winchester is, now.

He hadn't realised before, but in this place.... there's much more of who he is in his grasp, not pressed down and concealed the way it had been in Deerington. While the demon king hasn't reached his full knowledge capability, still so lost in his ways.... there are parts of it, in him. Of knowing. Those great Secret Things, Hidden Truths. He can sense things, understand things, on some level beyond.

Memory seeps in slowly, and as his vessel remembers more of the faces he'd encountered and known back in Deerington, so too does Paimon. Ache comes: a deep, cutting loss. He'd lost Lucifer almost as quickly as he'd been found by him.

Sam Winchester took him away. Did something to himself to remove the archangel: a spell. Peter spoke to Sam about it — facts the demon is capable of understanding now, having full access to his host's memory.

The boy in the hallway... the boy with the wide eyes and dangerous understanding of how to hunt. The little lamb.

He is no lamb. He killed his Witch. Mutilated her. Tore his Master from himself, denied Lucifer the body that should have been his.

He doesn't need any bloodlust to feel his own boiling; this rage is fully Paimon's, unaffected by whatever's happening to Peter's Darkblood. But he knows to be careful about it, knows his host would try to stop him from this. Paimon waits, wandering the town for those first initial weeks in Trench, making note of who came here, too. Watching out for that young boy. Finally he finds him on a dreary September afternoon, crisp and chilled down to the bone. Perhaps the boy is walking to or from his home, perhaps heading somewhere else — the demon falls into step far enough behind so that he won't be seen, stalking Sam for a time, making no sound upon cobblestone streets, still wet from the most recent rain and littered with fallen leaves. Finally, he calls to him, eyes wide and strained, throat fluttering. )

Sam Winchester.

( The name isn't screamed, but spoken in a hushed tone from behind the boy, a breath on the wind. One final test to see if his innate knowledge is truly correct, if the boy reacts to the title. )

im sorry this took a century to reply to, im back i swear!!! :')

[beforetheverse]

[Sam had not ventured far from the cabin, mostly, because Dean had been worried about — well, the town acting up. Between the bloodsport situation and the river of regret (which he'd rather not think about), it's been — bad. Again. Maybe Deerington's too ingrained in the world now for it not to be bad. Sam's sort of resigned himself to that fact, and when he wanders to the shops he's got his knife constantly clenched in one hand in his pocket.

He's a bit sodden with rain water as he steps foot on the path toward Odd End. He really likes that shop, likes all of the world-weary items that appear week to week. Although he doesn't have a lot in the way of money, he always has just enough to collect one or two trinkets. Today he's saved enough for a neat pocket watch with intricate engraves, one that seemed way too cheaply priced, in one of those 'too good to be true' kind of ways.

He rubs his thumb over it in his pocket, using the hand not currently curled around his knife in the other — and then stops in his tracks at the sound of his voice on the wind. He turns slowly, brows furrowing, expression first confused, then dawning with realization — and some alarm.]

... Uh — Sorry?

[Oh... no.]

No worries at all!! Paimon is here 4 u any time, any place ♡

[possessum]

( He knows the boy will react to the name, and yet something in him is surprised all the same: stunned, an emotion that's still strange for the demon thing to experience. For a moment, he looks too human standing there. Flickers of shock and ache and fear flit through his eyes; he just stares in silence, absorbing this.

Though he isn't sure if the child has been a trickster this whole time — if he had been lying, intentionally, to him about his identity back then. Referring to "Sam Winchester" as though he were someone else. (Fortunately.... Paimon doesn't yet know another version of the man exists.)

Or perhaps he'd really.... forgotten his identity for a time? Whatever spell he'd done on himself may have scrambled pieces of his mind. Perhaps it's only recently that he's regained himself; Peter's struggled with it too, in this place. The demon hesitates — unsure.

Then he's moving closer.

It happens almost in the blink of an eye, a blip — he moves fast. A flickering shadow suddenly closer to the boy. )

Do you know of Lucifer? ( His hands twitch, lift as though they mean to reach for Sam; it takes everything in him to refrain from grabbing the child, but his energy strains, and the air tightens around them. His eyes are hard and cutting and no longer look human at all. There's an alien hatred, black and glistening wet and powerful, staring out at Sam. )

You will not lie to me.

[beforetheverse]

[Sam startles backward, hand clutching his switchblade even more tightly. He doesn't make any moves, doesn't try to flee — sometimes, trying to run makes things worse. Sometimes standing unmoving gives you opportunity. Especially against the supernatural.]

Everybody knows Lucifer. That's the devil, isn't it?

The ruler of hell and enemy of God, or whatever. He's in the bible.

[Sam certainly didn't lie right now, Paimon. He knows of him. That much is clear, isn't it? Just like Sam is sure he's going to slash Paimon hand if he makes any attempt to grab him. He's not sure if iron will work, but it's worth a try if things go sideways.]

[possessum]

( The boy's words make him flinch almost as if he'd touched something unfavourable. "Or whatever." Offhanded, flippant, like it's nothing. It's similar to how Peter's spoken about things of this nature, about him. Peter who is so stupid at times. There's a disrespect, and the demon king won't tolerate it in regards to Lucifer. )

You dare— to speak of him with.... mocking.

( He struggles with the human words in his anger, struggling against his own host. He needs to be patient, but the upset rises suddenly in him, and a line of tall, roaring flames erupt behind Sam — curling in a half-circle around where he stands, blocking escape. Not close enough to burn him, but he'll definitely feel the heat, a small inferno flickering dangerously.

The demon steps closer still. He won't actually physically maim Lucifer's vessel, but he can try to frighten the boy with threats of it. )

I should rip out your tongue as punishment. Tell me what you have done with my Master..... and you will be spared from blood, and from pain.

gomen peter, gomen

[beforetheverse]

I don't know what you're talking about!

[He says it with a quiver to his voice, even with the hardened stare he gives in turn. He is, after all, just a child — fourteen is hardly old enough to face down such a being. But his father trained him, and his brother too, and so he manages to stand and face the other with squared, defensive shoulders.]

I haven't done anything with anybody; I'm just here with my brother, trying to be safe and have a better life. I don't even know who the hell you are!

[But he feels the heat at his back, feels the opportunity to do something slipping slowly away. What if this guy kills him right now? Or worse, does as he says? Rips out his tongue? Makes him bleed and suffer? Something afraid but dangerous glints in his eye —

And then he lunges forward, aiming to slash the being's chest with a blade — well, a butterfly knife blessed with holy water. And if he manages to stun him enough, he'll use that moment to tuck his shorter body under the man's arm and run a mad dash for the darker, more convoluted alleyways that dot the cobblestone paths of Trench.]

[possessum]

( The demon's eyes are moving around Sam's body — down to his chest, staring hard there, almost as if trying to find some trace of Lucifer. Is any of him still inside? Could he be reached? Or is he... gone, the way Paimon was once gone from Peter's body when he died? Drifting, lost.... What exactly did Sam do to him?

The boy continues to claim that he doesn't know, but Paimon's starting not to care about being careful about all of this (and perhaps it's too late for that anyway, given he threatened to rip out his tongue....) If Sam doesn't remember, it doesn't change anything. He will just have to be made to know, then. Paimon doesn't have to physically harm him; he can do other things. Emotional things, mental. Perhaps if he works his mind enough, scrapes it raw and painful, he can force Sam to remember.

His hands are reaching closer— he means to grab him and hold him still, but suddenly the boy's moving forwards, suddenly he has another weapon (not a pipe this time but something smaller and quicker, something sharp). The tip of it does rake across the demon's chest, and he cries out as he jerks backwards, startled by the pain of it. By something too painful.... the boy's weapon is imbued with something. )

Sam! ( He's screaming after the boy as his small body slips past, stumbling after him as the flames burn hotter. One hand is pressed to the wound, feeling Peter's strange new blood glittering from it against his fingertips. His heart pounds; he doesn't like it. That knife, the way it stung. )

No! No! ( This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. With another angry scream, a wail, some of the stones of the road lift and smash into the walls of the alleyway, but the boy's too fast.

...Clearly, next time, the demon will have to use pain from the beginning. Debilitate the boy before he can attack with his cruel hunter weapons, his deceptively sweet face. )