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

[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...?