Catch All

[frogfear]

Who: Willow Rosenberg (frogfear) and Others
What: Closed Starters in the comments for now (Open to come!)
When: January - February
Where: Around Trench

Content Warnings (individual threads also marked): claustrophobia, nightmare with bloody dark imagery, severed body parts, torture racks, dark forest, possession, surrealism, unreality, CLOCKS THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE, death by broken neck, death of a magic animal/person in animal form

Comments

Research Time (with Ange and Tara)

[frogfear]

[Aside from all the infighting that felt completely unexpected, Ozpin's vampirism feels like a very Sunydale problem, and hitting the Archives to search for a solution with friends is a comfortable routine.

She's talked to Ford as well, which has helped settle some of the worry and anxiety over the situation, and armed with the notes he's sent over on his own observations, research mode brings renewed focus.

When Willow arrives at the Archives, she comes prepared with tea and doughnuts for all of them. Some traditions are worth upholding, afterall. She joins Tara and Ange at the table with a very small, very forced looking smile.]

Hey... Any luck so far?

[entreats]

[ Thankfully Ange is also very used to this. She's spent enough days in Trench like this already, after all - sitting down at the Archives, trying to research something or another. Trying to find ways to understand their life here better, and to make it better as well.

The only difference now is that her research is a little more specific - though that sometimes makes it harder in a library of this size, and with this little organisation to it. Finding books that happen to mention vampirism is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

But then again.. it's kind of nice to not be doing this alone. She doesn't know Tara too well yet, but she and Willow certainly aren't bad company. Even in this current storm of events, Ange can see where Willow is coming from, though she also gets why the others reacted the way they did. It's why it's just a matter of getting this problem dealt with as soon as possible, so they can all collectively get over it.

.. though that 'soon' part might be the problem, considering: ]

Nothing yet on my end. [ Ange sighs as she says it, though she is eyeing those doughnuts..

Briefly, anyway, before looking over at Tara. ]

How about you?

[psychopepsquad]

[Everyone is still very new to her, as is this place, but not so much this situation. It's this weird dejavu of early college, where she was both outside and inside the group at the same time, researching events that weren't entirely clear to her, but she wanted to be a help to.]

Nothing so far.

[Research was usually a process that could take hours and even then, there was a chance that something might be missed. How many times did they just stumble into the answer with Buffy?

It wouldn't be shocking if this place had similar outcomes.]

I just get the sense that magic is kind of the same and different at the same time. Schrodinger's magic.

Late in January-- a Conversation

[justoscar]

[It had taken a distressing amount of time for Oscar's mind to return to merely being Oscar. His time as Ossi wasn't disturbing-- they were alarmingly similar aside from their gender-- but Oscar didn't like having his memories messed with on that level.

His body was yet another story... but, one he could deal with.

These problems still came secondary to the troubles concerning Ozpin and his vampiric condition. Oscar had done his best to support his friends, but the infighting amongst them over the matter was nearly as frustrating as his time in the tundras of Solitas and the kingdom of Atlas. The lessons he had learned then still applied. He merely hoped that Willow was as keen about communicating as he wanted to believe.

Quietly slipping through the hallways after nightfall, when he felt most awake, Oscar searched for Willow's solid, academic presence within the mansion. Although he stumbled some on a prosthesis that didn't quite fit right after his own Shedding, he moved with the steady confidence he had used during those final hours within Ironwood's good graces.

Hawthorn, the cane weapon Ruby had crafted for him, was a firm anchor in the clouds of his own uncertainty. He had no intention of fighting... but it helped him feel better.

Finally finding Willow, he stopped within the doorway and watched quietly for a moment before knocking on the molding along the jamb.]

Hey... do you have time to talk?

[frogfear]

[January has been far from easy - between Faith's unexpected arrival in Trench, and the fallout from Ozpin's not-so-secret blood drinking habit coming out. It certainly hasn't done anything to help the sleeplessness that's settled over her since November.

She's in her room when Oscar comes knocking, reading quietly at the desk while Tara is asleep in their bed. She leaves the door slightly ajar most nights to make it easier to come and go without disturbing Tara when she changes, but Oscar's sudden appearance and knock is still startling enough to make her jump.]

Uh, yeah. Of course.

[She glances back at Tara, who hasn't stirred even a little, then back to Oscar again.]

Downstairs, maybe?

[justoscar]

Uh.. yeah. Of course.

[He cast Tara an uneasy look before stepping out in the doorway. Although he trusted Willow for the most part, he didn't know much about her partner from Sunnyvale. The little he had observed suggested that Tara was one of those no-nonsense types about matters of a certain nature...

Which Ozpin and Oscar both fell into.

Tugging awkwardly at his night shirt in a vain attempt to keep his remaining effeminate features from being too obvious, he added:]

I've got hot water going in the kitchen, if you want tea or something.

Mid to Late January

[slayerskiss]

[It's later in January that Faith reaches out to Willow, standing a bit outside her house in the chilly late evening.]

Yo. You home? I'm a bit outside. Don't really wanna go in, but I figure we should touch base.

Text > Action

[frogfear]

Yeah, I'm home. Hang on, I'll be right down.

[Willow comes out a few minutes late, bundled up against the cold, she gives Faith a little wave when she spots her.]

Hey.

[slayerskiss]

[She gives her a nod and an aloof casual smile, because she's cool like that.]

'Sup. Figured you'd want an update. [She holds out a hand and catches a snowflake as it falls. Nice.] Your vampire's camped up in a house with a bunch of people. Seems like it's been calm so far, but I've been keeping an eye out.

You hungry? I am. I'm guessing there's gotta be some place around here. [Also.] And one of your roommates seems real pissed at both of us, so I'd like to avoid that whole mess.

[Well. She didn't intend to say that.]

Dreamwalking - Mid to Late January until Mid to Late February

[frogfear]

[Willow can't remember the last time she got a proper night's sleep any more. She doesn't really think much of it - all Palebloods had trouble getting a decent night sleep in September, thanks to the effect of the moon. Life hasn't exactly been untroubled in Trench, and she has a strong suspicion that leaving her body when she sleeps to become a wolf probably doesn't help either. Her body may be physically at rest, but her soul is still out and about. She has not had a single dream since her arrival.

For a change, it doesn't take a whole lot of searching through the Archives to find something that should help, and the solution is a fairly simple one. It's a meditation exercise, simple enough. A little deep breathing, some incense, and focusing her thoughts before letting her mind wander. The text suggests dreamwalking may not help with the insomnia itself, but it will help with the unpleasant exhaustion that comes in its wake, and leave her feeling like she at least managed to get some rest.

It's worth a try.

Willow lights the incense sticks in the bedroom and sits down on the bed, settled back against the headboard. It comes remarkably easy, probably due to her own exhaustion, and before she even realizes it, for the first time since arriving in Trench, she's experiencing a dream. Only it's someone else's, and as she looks around, she has the strange sensation that she doesn't quite belong here.

If you're having a nightmare, she'll try to help you through it, and if it's something more pleasant, she will gladly hang out and chat. Maybe you'll think she's just part of your normal dreamscape, or maybe you'll recognize her as an outside influence. This is new territory for her, so she's not entirely sure what to expect.]

cw: claustrophobia

[devilmind]

[ They don't remember it now, but this isn't the first time they've had this dream.

It always starts in roughly the same way, though the setting is sometimes different. Today, it's the Archaic Archives in Gaze—no wonder since they've been spending so much time there as of late. Just like the other times, it starts with a sound—three slow knocks, like someone rapping their knuckles against a wall, repeating endlessly. Rap. Tap. Tap. Rap. Tap. Tap.

The Operator shudders when they hear it. It reminds them of something, though they can't think of what. It's someone they know—that much they're sure of. So why does it fill them with such dread?

They follow the sound, led on by a sense of duty. Of debt. They walk out of the Archive's dusty rows of books, towards the edge of the space, the sound growing louder with every step. It leads them, as it always does, to a wall. It's not a particularly special wall, either—just another plain stretch of stone, holding the roof above them. By now, the sound of the knocking is almost deafening, loud enough to make their teeth rattle in their skull. Yet still, there is that sense of familiarity—they know that understanding will come if they just reach out—

The moment their fingers brush against the wall, they feel themself yanked forward into darkness, into the wall itself. Stone presses around them on all sides and they struggle uselessly against its grasp. They can't move. They can't breathe. Yet somehow, they can still see beyond the wall, to the empty Archive beyond.

This is the point in the dream where the Lotus appears. The Operator can see her as she wanders the dreamspace as if searching for something. They try to cry out to her but the stone around them presses too close for them to fill their lungs. They struggle to strike something inside the wall, to make some kind of noise, but the only thing they can move is a single index finger. They knock it against the inside of the wall, but the sound is faint and the Lotus doesn't react. Rap. Tap. Tap. Rap. Tap. Tap.

Desperate as they are to get the Lotus's attention, the Operator doesn't even notice that the Lotus is not the only one in the Archive... ]

[frogfear]

[It takes Willow a moment to orient herself when she appears in the dream, and she looks around. It's the Archives - oh, she knows this place very well. She's spent a lot of time in the real Archives over the last several months.

The tapping quickly catches her attention, and she pauses, looking around to try to determine the source of the sound.

She spots the Lotus and hangs back, unsure if she's looking at a friend or foe. This isn't her dream, after all, and she's not entirely sure what to expect.

She hears the tapping sound again, closer this time, and pauses, and holds her breath to listen. It's faint, it's very faint, but it also sounds like it's very close.

Watching the Lotus for another moment more, she carefully presses a hand against the wall where she thinks the tapping might be coming from, and calls out quietly.]

Hello? Is someone there?

Bad Touch

[psychopepsquad]

[It's been an exhausting day for Tara, with moments where she's lapsed back and forth between blips and reason. She doesn't know what the blips are, only there are times that she doesn't remember. From point A to point B, she has no recognition of moving between them. It should be disturbing, enough to frighten her, but Tara simply feels too drained and too exhausted to think about it.

Fatigue hangs heavy over her as she dresses for bed. Old habits from the past take over, rather than what she'd been trying to remember since coming here. Layers during the day, layers at night, so long as she shared a bed with Willow. Gloves, two long sleeve shirts, big socks and thicker pants. But instead, she pulls on a night shirt and crawls into bed.

Willow seems to be deep in sleep. Tara has time to note it before another blip comes. She babbles something incoherent, never realizing she was doing it. She wants to share the nonsensical thought with Tara, eager to tell her. She reached out and grabbed Willow's hand, giving it a shake and a tug.]

[frogfear]

[It's not sleep, not really, but dreaming, even if it's not her dream, feels far closer to sleep than anything she's experienced in Trench so far. It's a welcome change, and, slipping into the occasional nightmare aside, a pleasant escape.

She's not sure who's dream she's in tonight, just that it's warm and comfortable and it feels like it's worlds away from Trench. It feels safe.

In the real world, Tara grabs her hand, and in the dream, Willow can feel it. In the blink of an eye - or, rather, the tug of an arm - that cozy, secure feeling shatters, and is replaced by something cold, and dark, and horribly empty.

She doesn't even remember what the dream was about.

As she's yanked back to reality, she can feel Tara's hand gripping hers, and it takes a second to register what's happened. Tara's not wearing gloves. She looks up from the hand on hers with a mix of surprise and dread.]

Tara...?

[onekindsoul]

[Willow will find herself in an almost storybook style forest. The lighting is pleasant and the trees are almost cartoonishly beatiful. walking down the beaten path Ruby can be seen almost skipping down the trail. ...That is until she caught sight of Willow and suddenly blinked.]

Woah- Woah- Woah-

This whole thing felt super familiar until you showed up.

I've been having this exact same dream for weeks now.

[frogfear]

[There doesn't seem to be much of a way for her to control where she lands, or at least, not a way that she's figured out just yet, but this isn't so bad. It's a pretty spot - the forest is bright and has a far more pleasant feel to it than anything anywhere around Trench.

She offers a small wave and a smile when she sees Ruby.]

Oh, uh. Hey, Ruby. Um... Wait. Did you say you've been having the same dream for weeks?

[Is that weird? That seems a little weird.]

cw: nightmare with bloody dark imagery, severed body parts, torture racks, dark forest, possession

[kingofsarcasm]

[By this point, Stiles is in the body of a girl, but he's still himself, so when he dreams he looks the same. And boy is this a hell of a dream. He's used to not sleeping well, if at all. He's been plagued by dreams within dreams within dreams where he can't tell if he's awake or not. All thanks to the dark fox spirit possessing him that he remains unaware of.

When Willow steps into his dream space, she'll get the distinct feeling of a dark presence lurking around the forest. It's not a setting that makes any logical sense. The misty forest of beacon hills dominates the area, but there's random pieces of stairs and racks from the Sleeper Farm with mutilated bodies on it hung between trees. A carpet of body parts creates a path through the woods and Stiles is…

Stiles is being dragged down that path by a bear trap around his ankle. The bloodies dirt and needles of the forest floor coat his simple jeans and t-shirt and there's deep claw marks and lacerations along his body. His darkblood glitters out and somehow moves like a living thing around him, moving in and out of holes and pores like a swarm of pestilence. The figure pulling the chain attacked to the trap on his leg is obscured by the blood red-tinted mist of the forest but it has a raspy chuckle that booms around them both.

Stiles is screaming but it's being strangled into a raspy nearly soundless scream as he desperately digs along the forest floor with his fingers, trying to get away.]

[frogfear]

[The forest itself is somehow unsettling all on its own, with the air of an unknown, unseen malovelent presence lurking somewhere.

The path is clearly marked by Sleeper Farm horror, and it hits her that maybe sometimes it's not such a bad thing that she doesn't dream on her own any more. This hits a little too close to home for her too after her experiences there. She shivers and rubs her arms to try to discourage the goosebumps under the sleeves of her coat, trying not to look at the mutilated remains surrounding her.

Willow spots Stiles being dragged by the bear trap, and screaming, trying to stop himself from being pulled away, and she springs into action immediately to chase after him and the figure trying to drag him away.]

NO! HEY! Let him go!

[A weapon, a weapon, she needs something she can fight with. She was able to alter the Winter Mournings thanks to her Paleblood abilities, but she is unsure if she can seize the same control here. She intends to try, though. A sword, an axe, a bat, even a tranquilizer gun. Anything.]

cw: surrealism, unreality, CLOCKS THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE

[justoscar]

[The picturesque landscape of fields sown with crops of barley and wheat hardly seemed to fit with anything that Willow had seen in Trench. The sun was high in the sky, bright and warm against the brilliant blue of the endless sky dotted with fluffy clouds. The grain fields seemed to stretch into the very horizon, with the peace of the quiet interrupted only by the chirping of birds, the sounds of farmworkers out of sight...

And underneath it all was the ponderous, endless ticking of a clock.

Oscar Pine, looking fresh and young, as if none of the adventures the version Willow knew had undergone had even happened. The boy hopped off the tractor and pulled a bottle of water from the small cooler he kept in the back and drank from it, as if this were just another day of life on the farm.

Unknown to Oscar at this time was the fact that this was hardly the first time he had returned to the farm in his mindscape ]

[frogfear]

[It's impossible not to pause to look around and take in the sights and sounds of the farm; aside from the strange ticking of the clock, it's idyllic, almost like something out of a painting.

Willow smiles when she spots Oscar, so much younger, and so much smaller than he is now. It's not hard to figure out that this was home back in his youth. Will he still remember her? Or is he actually the youngster he was back in those days? She's not sure. All the same, she greets him with a friendly wave.]

Oh, hey.

Feb 20th, For Maul

[frogfear]

Sleep hasn't come easy for Willow for quite some time. Most of it, she writes off as the stress and worry of the last several months making it harder to settle, and the rest because she blames on leaving her body and becoming a wolf when she sleeps. Dreamwalking helps stave off the pressure of exhaustion even if she didn't quite consider how much of an intrusion it would feel like to jump in as part of someone else's dream.

For the most part, she stays home when she sleeps, or at least close to home. More and more often, however, she finds herself getting restless, and wanting to roam. It feels natural to take to the woods that seem to stretch out endlessly behind the big green mansion in Gaze.

There is danger in these woods, of course. There's no shortage of monsters, it seems, but they are fairly easy to avoid. They don't seem to regard her as a human, and her stronger senses make it far easier to avoid them.

She's been out most of the night, choosing to stay away from home longer than usual in hopes of forcing herself to get a little more sleep, and the sky is just beginning to lighten. The snow is beginning to pick up, blanketing the woods in silence as she slips quietly through the trees, when she pauses suddenly, ears alert and turning to try to catch even the faintest sound, and sniffs the air. She's not entirely sure what it is, but something doesn't seem quite right.

[survivalthroughhate]

Something has been bothering Maul about what he saw in the blood zealot's torture center when he'd seen Willow there. At the time, he'd been much more concerned about getting out, but since then he'd had time to reflect on what he'd seen. That wolf which had been absorbed back into her....that was no Omen. It was something else and he's been determined to find out.

He sets his cult with the task of researching. Sure, he could do it himself, but what's the point of having a bunch of devoted followers if they don't obey his every whim? He takes the opportunity to get some much-needed sleep as they spend a few days scouring the archives of Trench to find out what is going on. It's been a busy couple of months for Maul and he needs his rest, no longer being a young twenty year old Zabrak the way he was more than fifteen years ago.

What they come back to him with is very interesting, how apparently the wolf is Willow, some strange magic that allows her to shift forms when she's asleep. Maul's not sure what to do with this and mulls it over but then he runs into the Chocolatier. The being offers him a vanilla chocolate, and as bad luck would have it, Willow is the first one he sees afterwards. All conflict he's felt at the thought of getting his revenge on her causing problems with his friends disappears. All that matters is the death of one of the witches who cursed him.

He waits for the perfect opportunity, and when the blizzard comes, he knows it is time. Not many people will be out and about right now with how cold it is, which means there will be less witnesses to what he is about to do. It also means it might be some time before Willow's body is discovered. Once he finds Willow out in the woods, he waits for the perfect moment to strike. On silent feet, he stalks the wolf, the hunter now becoming the prey of a far more dangerous predator.

[frogfear]

It's not a sound that's caught her attention, as she stands stone still under a tree. All she can hear is the sound of the wind and the flakes of snow hitting the ground. It feels particularly quiet in the woods, but not unnaturally so. She had seen in Deerington too how snow can bring a peaceful quiet with it, even in a heavy storm.

The wolf sniffs the air a second time, looking around, trying to spot any signs of trouble. Leaning into the wind, she can smell plenty, even the smells from home. With the wind at her back, though, she can only smell the woods around her.

Still, she has the troubling feeling of being watched and it feels important to listen to that instinct even though she's quite aware it might simply be her own anxieties at play.

The storm is getting worse anyway, and she doesn't really want to be out when it reaches its height, so she trots off towards home, unaware that the danger is anything more than perceived.

Dated to Feb 27th, for the Emperor

[frogfear]

[There's a small squid swimming amongst the debris that's settled in the water in the wake of the battle with Leviathan. It pauses to explore what looks like a section of wood from a ship curiously. Huh. Something has happened here, but it isn't sure what, and it isn't even sure if it really matters.

The sight of the creature itself - or at least the chunk of it that's currently being carried out to sea is startling, and the squid zips backwards, releasing a bloom of ink to hide itself. It edges itself forward, and as it realizes there's no actual danger here any more, another realization hits.

It's supposed to be heading for shore. It's not sure why just yet, but the squid is certain it's supposed to be on the beach, and not in the ocean. With renewed effort, it pulls itself away from exploring the remnants of the battleground and pushes itself up to the surface so the waves can carry it the rest of the way onto the beach.

The beach. It - no, she. She remembers another beach, another form, another life. The memories are vague, but they're coming back.

She remembers a young farm boy, showing her how to care for the horses she never asked for, and was afraid of until he came along and helped her overcome her fear.

She remembers turning to face down a terrifying looking woman with white skin and black veins while somewhere far away, a red and black fox leaps into the arms of a tall, white haired man to seek comfort in the wake of what was about to come.

She remembers tearful goodbyes with the people she had come to regard as friends as she tries to prepare herself for returning to an even older life that somehow doesn't even feel like it still belongs to her any more.

She remembers a hand on the door to a lighthouse before suddenly shaking her head and saying no, she can't to an older man with blonde hair, who calls her sweetheart and says all right then, let's go home.

She remembers wading out into the waves, and swimming until...

Until this.

The squid lays on the beach in Trench, pulling at the dark sand with her tentacles as she tries to remember how to get back to herself, her red flecked with black skin glistening, still wet from the ocean as she lays among the wreckage from what looks like it should be from a fairly fresh battle.

Where are they now? All these people she remembers from an old life. She doesn't think she can do this by herself.

She squeaks.]

[necrolord]

[ It's been a weird week.

Harrow and Gideon are at home, intact but still mourning. There's a Sixth squid out there somewhere, and the squid of a miserable little duke with mind control. Fishing either of them out of the sea would be a prize.

Which is why God is here on the beach, honestly. A funny little vigil for kids who don't like him much. He makes a routine of it: sunrise or sunset, a stroll along the sand.

Also, it gives him a chance to squirrel away a little of the sea monster's corpse. Might be useful, later. You never know.

He's there now, inspecting a long sweeping shard of bone, when the squid comes close enough to catch his attention. He doesn't quite have the knack of picking out familiar souls when they're in this shape— his good buddy Mariana loves to get in the way of that one, like she's defending her nest, or something— but this one has a certain something. He lowers the bone and turns to the little thing at the edge of the water, quirks his eyebrows up. ]

Need a hand?

[ This is a joke, because as he draws closer, he wiggles his human fingers like it's a demonstration. He reaches down to see if she'll let him touch her with salt-damp fingers. ]