oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid? [ OPEN ]

[venatoris]

Who: infractus, lefthemisphere, egyptologist & you!
What: event shenanigans in one fabulous catch all, for all your RP needs
When: Throughout September
Where: All over!

Content Warnings: mentions and gifs/images of blood and dead bodies, death, decay, and trauma, possible suicide ideation, possible R rated scenes of varying degrees, etc etc. will mark as needed







(( ooc; event prompts, various september logs, and tdm continuations will go in this thread. if you have something you'd like to do, pm me or hit me up at pincurls! ))

Comments

growing pains

[possessum]

( Peter's not even sure how he ended up out here; he's a fair bit away from his own housing in the Gaze district. But considering the fact he so often roams without having awareness of it, waking up any number of places... this is pretty standard for him. As usual, the demon within him has taken to exploring this place, wandering around to examine its new surroundings and absorb information about it all. Peter's always left with the confusion afterwards.

He's just coming out of his odd haze, vision a little blurry, feeling strange in himself. Looking down, he realises that he's still carrying the small pot with the tiny white daisy planted in it. After he'd completed his own ritual, it had bloomed, something immediately precious to him. The flower means something important, reminds him of someone important. He's been carrying it with him ever since, keeping it safe.

As he's slowly wandering along the unfamiliar place, he spots a woman out on the front lawn of a home that looks like something from a dream. Peter thinks maybe he's seen her before, once, and carefully approaches her, recognising what she's doing. The same ritual he'd painfully worked his way through, reluctant and afraid to partake in such a thing. He stares at the flower that's blossoming, eyes widening a little. The rituals are scary for him, but what comes from them are... really nice. )

That's— really pretty.

[egyptologist]

[ Evelyn is still a little in awe of the home she'd been given in Deerington, and that it had been brought along with her to Trench - in all of its glory. It's big, though - lonely. A beautiful mansion fit for a family (her family, the one that's left living their lives with some...other version of her, she supposes), but it's only her in there, listening to the echo of what she once had.

She's lost in her thoughts when she's approached, looking up and flashing a small smile, though there is recognition in her face. They've met before, she's sure of it. ]

It's a blue lotus, [ she murmurs, staring back down at her flower with no small amount of awe. ] It used to be abundant in the Nile Delta, but it's endangered these days. It was sacred to ancient Egyptians, a... symbol of creation and rebirth. I suppose that's rather fitting.

[possessum]

( As soon as she speaks, Peter's even more sure that he's come across her before — though he can't remember...when, or where, exactly. Were there... books? He's still been having a difficult time sorting out his memories.

But there's a little smile in return; he's nervous of strangers even on a good day, but there's something to the woman that seems kind. Or maybe that he remembers as being kind. And the flower that's meant for her is so lovely; he can't help feeling a bit at ease as he gazes down at it, listening to her explanation. )

Someone told me these — daisies — have to do with rebirth, too. Or... new beginnings. ( He holds his small potted flower up, a little shyly. It's... probably weird to wander around clutching a flower to one's chest like it's a precious item, but it brings him comfort. )

Will you keep yours, too? It seems like this place wants us to. ...Which uh, could be a good or a bad thing. ( He admits. He's still not sure the whole blood ritual thing wasn't a mistake. )

[egyptologist]

[ Books, a small shop...one she's recently rediscovered, which has pleased her greatly. Evelyn isn't doing overly well here; her family isn't here, she's aged eight years, Deerington felt like a distant dream and now she's back in this hellscape while some other version of herself lives at...home? Or something?

Regardless, she's alone here, the connections she had made feel distant, half forgotten. ]

They were right, yes. [ She leans over to look at the flower, a smile curling at her lips. ] It's very lovely.

[ The flower in front of her waves gently in the soft breeze, and it catches her attention, drawing her eyes back down. ]

I think I should keep it. It's too lovely to leave out here in the ground, all by itself.

[possessum]

( Peter's not very versed in the symbolism of flowers, but he really likes the thought of new beginnings. As unsettling as the whole ritual experience was — and still is — it's honestly hard to be afraid of the little flower, even if it was borne from something so strange. Especially when it reminds him so much of something he loves. )

It's— it represents someone important to me, I think. She gave me a daisy once, and it looked just like this... I keep thinking it can't just be coincidence? I think they're important for us. ( He mulls thoughtfully. This place, like Deerington, seems to know what's inside of you: the regrets, the guilts, but the nicer things too, sometimes. This flower represents something good, for him. And maybe hers does too; Peter's once again looking down at the lotus, still a bit awed by it for a few moments. He's never seen one in person before. )

Is that where you're from, before here? Egypt, I mean.

[egyptologist]

I think you might be right.

[ It's precious to her for no reason beyond it grew from her blood, though she thinks that's nothing to sneeze at. ]

I'm half-Egyptian, but I was born in London. I lived there for quite some time, though. I consider it my second home. [ As precious to her as this flower. ]

[possessum]

Oh, for real? That's really cool. ( The teenager who has never traveled outside of the United States (well... unless this place counts? Are they in the United States... somewhere...? In another dimension? He doesn't fucking know) is visibly impressed by the thought of living in such cool places. )

...I'm just from Utah. ( He says, lamely. Utah's undeniably uncool.... )

Sorry to just— come up to you like this all of a sudden. I thought maybe I'd met you before, but things are... still kind of strange. Were you at Deerington...?