[005] You're gone, gone, gone away

[themuseabandonsyou]

Who: Orpheus (themuseabandonsyou) and others
What: Grief-induced beasthood, per the Siren Mini-Plot
When: Starts in early March and continues throughout the month
Where: The Rocks, south of the Farther Shores

Warnings: Potential drowning, violence, and character death. Body horror (beast transformation). Grief (loss of a loved one). Suicidal themes.

There's no reason for Orpheus to suspect that today is going to be like any other, when he wakes. It's a little unusual from the start in that he wakes alone - he's an earlier riser than Eurydice usually, but not always. It's easy for him to assume that today is one of those odd exceptions, that she simply got up before him and has started her day, and he gets out of bed and starts his morning routine unbothered. Only when he notices just how quiet the house is does he actually stop and consider that something might be wrong. With all the cautious optimism he can manage, he checks the rooms of the house one by one, only to find almost all of Eurydice's things - her bag, her jewelry, her omni - and no sign of her.

His heart leaps into his throat. He runs outside and accosts the first person he sees, grabbing them by the arm and pulling them aside. "Have you seen my wife?" he asks, and describes her, a head shorter than him with dark hair and eyes. The citizen does, thankfully, recognize the description, and points him towards the edge of town. He repeats this process multiple times, stopping every few blocks to ask after her, and every time having just fortune enough to find someone who knows something. Eventually the trail leads him to the Farther Shore, and he sprints along the sand towards a short figure in the distance, approaching the waves.

"Eurydice!" But she's already ribs deep in the water by the time he reaches her, skin shimmering unnaturally, or maybe in a way that's all too natural, for Sleepers. She turns to look at him, and smiles at him through a deep and terrible sadness that shocks him to his core, and all at once he realizes just what's happening.

"I love you," she says, barely audible over the crashing of the waves.

"I love you, too," he says.

A wave comes crashing down over her head, and she disappears.

I. All that's left is a ghost of you
( closed to Vyng )( cw: body horror (beasthood transformation), grief (loss of a loved one) )
For the second time, Orpheus collapses to his knees, watching the space where Eurydice had been just moments before. There's a numbness to it, a disbelief. She was just there. She was just there. The shock of it paralyzes him, slows everything to a stop, and all he can do for a long, long moment is just sit there, water seeping into the knees of his pants from the wet sand. Tears roll down his face, but he doesn't notice.

And then he stands, and all but runs into the water himself. She's still out there, just - in another form. If he can find her, maybe he can bring her back. If he can find her, maybe he can go with her. Anything but this. Anything but being left alone again. He crashes through the water, up to his waist and already being buffeted around by the breakers. One knocks him clean over, and he struggles to get his feet under him well enough to stand again, though this entirely fails to discourage him.

"Eurydice!" he shouts, cursing himself for spending so long in that stupor, for sleeping in, for not noticing something the night before. If he'd been faster, if he'd been more present, if he'd been better-


II. Now we're torn, torn, torn apart
( OTA, will not receive responses from Orpheus - feel free to thread with each other under this heading! )( cw: Potential near-drowning )
A haunting melody drifts over the sand dunes and rocky shoreline that curves away from the city of Trench. It's high and mournful, wordless and pure and soft, and with it comes a powerful sense of heartbreak. Just hearing it briefly sends daggers through the chest as one truly gets the sense of how alone the singer is, all alone, abandoned and bereft. Those with sensitivity to such things may notice the not-so-gentle push of something like a Paleblood's abilities, lacing into the music and enhancing the sense of empathy it brings to a supernatural degree, but is that really so important? When someone's suffering like that, it's only right to go to their side, isn't it? To try to offer what comfort you can?

The song seems to be coming from a small rock out at sea, some distance away from the shore. It looks possible to swim it, doesn't it? Maybe a bit of a challenge, but the song is growing in intensity now. Alone, alone, alone. Does it matter how far it is? The water is so cold, and so rough, but don't you have to try?

Those that do try may find that the strangest thing happens - or rather, doesn't happen. No matter how far one goes, the song never seems to grow any louder, remaining a whisper on the wind. How could that be, though? How could something sung so quietly carry so far? The deceptive nature of it makes it easy to lose track of just how far out to sea one is, rising in anguish again and again just as one's arms start to falter, just as one thinks about turning back, and by the time it becomes clear even through the haze that the song settles over one's mind that this was a bad idea, it may already be too late.


III. There's nothing we can do
( OTA )( cw: Potential near-drowning, violence )
But say one manages to make it to the tiny rocky outcropping out in the sea, maybe by resisting long enough to think about options other than simply wading into the water and trying to swim - there are boats nearby, after all, to be borrowed or rented or commandeered, or the fact that many people in Trench can turn into squids, which are famously resistant to drowning - or maybe some people are just really strong swimmers, or fliers, or capable of travel by other means. No matter which way one comes, they'll find a towering figure crouched on top of the rock, some ten feet tall not counting the antlers sprouting from his bird skull-like head. Glowing golden eyes flash and narrow as he cranes his long, heron-like neck down to look at the intruder, his song drawing to a close. A sickly, emaciated humanoid torso sits atop a large, raptor-like body, his feathers standing on end as the beast clicks his beak and shakes his head in apparent fury.

Wings flaring outward, the beast leaps from his perch with an inhuman, echoing wail. Taloned, scaly hands reach out to grab at arms, shoulders, clothes - anything he can hold onto. His beak and claws are razor-sharp, and he's very clearly not happy to have guests, despite what his song does to people.


IV. Just let me go, we'll meet again soon
( OTA )( cw: Potential near-drowning, violence )
Some people who make it to the island are met with much less hostility, though. Maybe some deep part of this beast's mind recognizes them as friends, or maybe he's just worn himself out. Either way, he's huddled in a small, half-protected cove, singing his mournful song. His arms and upper pair of wings wrap around his humanoid torso for warmth and protection from the spray of the sea, and his eyes are closed as he rocks back and forth subtly, apparently in a self-soothing gesture.

Here, this close, the song still isn't that much louder, but it is easier to hear without the sounds of the city echoing in the distance, and that clarity lends strength to the forceful empathetic projection of it all. It becomes obvious what this song is about, even without words. It's not just about being alone. It's about being left behind, about not being worth staying for, again and again and again. The beast looks wretched, hunkered down against the rocks and wet with sea mist, scraggly and too-thin and sickly, and he opens one golden eye to peer at his visitor after a long moment, letting his song draw to a close and breathing a heavy sigh.


V. Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around
( Closed to Maul )( cw: Grief, discussion of loss of a loved one )
There's a body on the beach.

This isn't all that unusual, given Trench is what it is, but it's a little late in the month for all that, isn't it? Certainly there are no Wakers gathered at the shore this time, and even if there were, this particular body is a little far south to be part of the tide of new Sleepers that wash up on the regular.

No, this is no new arrival. It's Orpheus - which one might be able to put together if they saw the great bird-beast he'd turned into earlier in the month fly up from his rock with an anguished cry and plunge beak-first into the sea like some gigantic, monstrous tern, some minutes before. He's human-shaped now, mostly, save for some lingering vestiges of beasthood. Short, bony antlers growing from just above his hairline, scales along his forearms, feathers on his face and shoulders. He's lying on his back, eyes open but apparently unresponsive to the fact that the tide is rising and threatens to wash him away if he doesn't move sooner rather than later.


VI. I'll see you when I fall asleep
( OTA )( cw: Grief (loss of a loved one), mild disordered eating, depression )
Orpheus spends a great deal of time, in the wake of everything that happened, lying in bed with the curtains drawn as he stares at nothing in particular. Occasionally he takes out his Omni and stares at that instead, the light illuminating his face in the dimness of his room, but mostly he just leaves it on the table next to him and tries to... what is he trying to do? He doesn't know really. Wait for the urge to wade into the sea, to follow Eurydice properly this time, maybe? Or simply passing time in between the occasional demands of his body, the dreary tasks of keeping it fed and watered and alive.

Fortunately he and Eurydice had spent the fall and winter stockpiling food, so he has enough to last him some time without having to go out and resume working. He doesn't think he could stand to do that, at the moment. He doesn't think he could stand much of anything. There's an emptiness in him, deep and howling, and he only barely manages to force himself to eat out of a vague sense of not wanting to disappoint everyone else even further.

Speaking of everyone else - there's a knock at his door. He barely registers it at first, and thinks very hard about not answering, but eventually the guilt of making someone worry over him when he's already done so much outweighs the desire to isolate himself. He takes a deep breath - if he closes his eyes, he can imagine, however briefly, that the room still smells faintly of Eurydice - and gets up, heading downstairs to answer the door, however reluctantly. He only opens it a sliver, peering out hesitantly, but even that's enough to make it clear that he's in rough shape. His eyes are still an odd gold color, surrounded by little brown feathers dusted across his cheekbones and browline like freckles, and a pair of nubby little antlers sprout from just above his temples. His hand, resting on the edge of the door, is still ashen and scaled like a bird's feet, and he looks like he hasn't slept restfully in days.

"Um, hi," he says, quietly. "Do you, um. Do you need something?"


VII. Wildcard
[ Need something else? Want a different prompt from Orpheus, or a space for other characters to interact that isn't covered above? Let me know either in the plotting post if you want me to set something up, or just hop in here! I can be reached for questions at questionableveracity on plurk or quodVide#2951 on Discord ]

Comments

Now we're torn, torn apart (OTA; Luca's here for all your lifeguarding needs)

[schoolingfish]

When Luca hears the mournful song, there's something about it that strikes a chord with him. It just sounds so...sad, and he desperately wants to help even though he has no idea how. It doesn't seem too far, after all, and there's only ocean between him and the sound of the voice. For a sea creature like him, that's not even an obstacle.

Focused completely on the sound of singing, Luca walks into the water, scales rising up his legs and fins emerging. In the moment, he doesn't even care who might see as he walks in deeper and deeper until the transformation is complete. Naturally he wonders, as he puts his head up above the surface to try and listen better, why he never seems to get closer, but he's not concerned. He has no reason to be. Luca lived under the surface of the sea for thirteen years, he can be here as long as he needs to to find whoever it is that needs him.

It's only when he hears the sound of struggling in the water that he deviates from his task, and when he realizes someone who doesn't have gills has come out this far, he quickly races to their side to help.

[droptheious]

Varian had seen Vyng's warning on the network and rushed out to the beach. Orpheus had tried his best to save Varian when he had turned into a beast- despite the danger he posed. Varian would be remiss if he tried anything less in return.

He did try to prepare for the song at least. He'd grabbed a pair of Fern's earmuffs he used for the winter months and tried to pack them as best he could with wool to drown out the singing. It's crude, and if he had more time he would have been able to make something better- but time will not be on their side here. Once the hunters get wind of it, they will try to kill him. Varian has first-hand experience with that.

Once he gets to the beach the earmuffs do work, to a fashion. The song is there but muffled. For a brief second he thinks he's solved it and can figure out a way to the island to help his friend. A boat, maybe? But for all his factoring in of the song, he forgot about Orpheus' paleblood abilities. The earmuffs can't keep those back. Muffled as it is, the song does seep in, and Varian has a moment of panic when he realises it's not worked, then there's nothing but the pull to the ocean. To go and comfort his friend who has lost the most important being in the universe to him. Again.

He walks in, entranced, as the waves rise higher and higher against his small form. He gets about to his waist when his prosthetic leg siezes up. It's not designed to go into the water, certainly not this deep. The knee on it buckles and Varian drops into the water- being swept further out to sea by the current. He manages to break the surface of the water with a panicked gasp of air- he still feels the pull to get to Orpheus, but he can't swim like this, either. And that's how Luca finds him, struggling to tread water with only one leg to do so.

[schoolingfish]

Fortunately for Varian, Luca's fast. He's even faster when he realizes he feels a horrible sensation in his chest through his bond. Is that...is that what not being able to breathe feels like? Why would any human intentionally go into water if it feels like that?

It won't be long before Varian will be able to see a green and blue form torpedoing through the water toward him, before Luca goes to him so quickly he practically slams into him before grabbing his shirt in both fists and pulling him to the surface.

"Varian! What are you doing out here? You know you can't swim!"

He'd thought the way they first met made that clear enough.

cw: potential drowning

[sparklehorror]

Mabel Pines isn't actually a stranger to the dangers of mind control -- of things that get into your head and make you do things you usually wouldn't. Certain demons at home and corruption here in Trench have both emphasized the need to keep her wits about her, and to keep an eye on those around her for anything that could even resemble a warning sign. This is especially crucial among her family, where the first standard signs of corruption aren't symptoms so much as entirely normal Pines things. To that end, you'd think she wouldn't be easily swayed by a magic song.

The catch is that helping someone who is sad is something Mabel would usually do, in a heartbeat. Because of that, she doesn't actually realize anything weird has caught her at all until what catches her is a particularly harsh wave that shoves her under the surface of the water entirely.

She knows how to swim -- in a proper swimsuit, in a pool or the much more friendly California ocean, with others watching over her. Essentially coming out of a trance to find herself in the choppy Pthumerian Sea, with its nasty rocks and the safety of the beach entirely too far away and her heavy winter ruffles now waterlogged and twisted around her, sends everything she's been taught about not panicking straight out of her brain. Mabel manages to get her head out of the waves just long enough to suck in air and let it back out in a garbled scream, and then the brutal waves are shoving her under again.

cw: potential drowning

[schoolingfish]

Luckily for her, the sound of someone struggling in the water is exactly the sort of thing that draws Luca's attention. He races over to her. If it wasn't for Vyng's post, he'd likely wonder why a human was out this deep at all, much less why she was out here in regular clothes. Now he knows enough to know that she's been hypnotized. Not that it matters at the moment. No matter what the reason is, she's out here and she needs help.

It's not long before he reaches her, grabbing her and pulling her to the surface. Since his tail is providing all the propulsion he needs, it's easy for him to keep a good grip on her.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to get you to land?" he asks, and hopes she won't be too freaked out by his appearance. Most of the people in this place seem to take his 'being a sea monster' pretty well, though, so he has high hopes for this encounter.

cw: drowning

[feudalladyshandmaid]

There's an alteration on the island. Not uncommon, given what's currently going on at it. But what's worse, people are being tossed from the rocks, taking the plunge into dangerous waters.

Cassandra is no different, and the moment she's knocked back into the ocean, it's a desperate struggle. Her brain shuts off; she's not a powerful warrior anymore, clad in unbreakable armor, wilding an unbreakable sword. She's a kid almost drowning at the beach because she wandered into the tide.

The armor itself doesn't help her struggles. It's heavy, and her flails only delay her sinking. Still, she struggles, kicking against the current, bubbles slipping from clenched teeth. Her bright blue hair hopefully stands as enough of a oddity in the waters, enough to draw attention...

cw: drowning

[schoolingfish]

Fortunately, the sounds of someone struggling underwater, inaudible to anyone above the water's surface, can be heard quite well by someone who is well below the surface. He turns toward the source of the sound and, seeing Cassandra, races toward her. He grabs her, instantly launching upward...well, as well as he can. She's heavy. Much heavier than any of the other humans he's helped, and he ends up using both his tail and his feet to bring her to the surface. Fortunately, his tail is very powerful, but even though it usually is strong enough for Luca to throw himself out of the water, now it feels like it's taking everything just to move up through it. Even then, he's glad she's kicking, because he feels like he needs all the help he can get.

Once he finally breaks the surface with her, he asks, "Why are you so heavy?"

I.

[spiritwalks]

A sudden shift occurs in the cold waters immediately surrounding Orpheus. The currents grow slower. Gentler. Instead of pummeling him, waves move as if to embrace him. And then a pair of sturdy hands attempt to hoist Orpheus onto his feet.

"Easy, buddy..." From behind him, Vyng speaks in an even tone. The warm timbre of his voice intermingles with the ocean breeze. "It's hard to let go. I know. I know."

[themuseabandonsyou]

At first, Orpheus fights to twist out of his rescuer's grasp even as he sputters and coughs up water, twisting like a cat trying to get free of being picked up, too frantic and panicked to register just what's going on for the first few seconds. Even after a moment passes and his mind starts to catch up, though, to recognize the voice at his back, he still struggles, trying to throw himself back into the waves.

"I can't -" he starts, then chokes, unable to finish the sentence and instead simply concluding; "I can't. Not again. I can't do this again."

All the things he could've done differently weigh heavily on him, crushing him, and all he can think is that it's not fair, he wanted so much more time with her, he didn't know it would end so soon and it feels like he's being torn apart from the inside.

"Let me go, please, I can't - I have to find her, she's still out there. Please."

first prompt OTA!

[eudaimonikos]

i. torn, torn, torn apart

[Michael knows what he's getting into when he goes out to the beach. Still, he's not quite prepared for the song to hit him.

He's already worried for Orpheus, for Vyng. He's already out looking. It's easy to get drawn in by the heartbreak and hurry down into the surf, ignoring the water as it soaks through his shoes and pant legs.

Realization comes when a particularly heavy wave washes over his head, staggering him.]

Freaking - 

[The truth is, Michael's pretty bad at swimming in human form. It all just feels so unnatural. Their bones are too heavy, their limbs are so stiff - how do they do it? He sputters and kicks, trying to paddle his way back to shore, but the current's got him now. So he gives up, diving under instead and pulling his focus inward, loosening the clasps on his human suit.

He's done this more and more lately: taking his own natural shape, of his own free will. It's something he wouldn't have even considered for long millenia before. Even now, he always does it in secret. The constant stream of weird squids passing through here means that one more doesn't stand out much, even if that one acts a little more like a Waker than a newly-arrived Sleeper, just as long as nobody sees him turning back. It's been fine. He's helped people, and no one's been all that bothered.

Now that the ice has melted, though, he supposes he won't really have to do it anymore. Maybe this can be one last outing for a while.

He bundles up the loose human skin in one tentacle and bobs in the current, looking around. Did that weird song hit anyone else? If he sees someone struggling in the water, he'll go and try to hold them up with a tentacle. No, he absolutely is not announcing himself in any way. It is definitely just a sudden terrifying tentacle from the depths.]

ii. just let me go

[Once there's no immediate potential drownings in his line of sight, Michael turns about and swims away from the shore. Beneath the water, the song that drew him here is muffled and distorted, yet he can still hear it. More than that, he can feel it. Maybe that's some demon senses kicking in; maybe it's a property of the song itself. Either way, he can still track it fine.

He tracks it right up to a small rocky island, which presents an immediate problem. He does not just come out of the water when he's like this. What if people saw him? What if someone made the connection between this weird squid thing and nice old Michael? Sure, everyone's technically a squid here, but that's never done much to change how he feels - the thought of it still makes him feel queasy, a phantom ache in a human stomach he no longer has.

Whatever's happening is up on the island, though. He doesn't know if he can do much from the water. 

In the end, he puts off the decision. Information gathering is good anyway, right? He reaches a long pale tentacle up - one of his thin smaller ones, the kind he's had torn off a billion times before. It feels its way up the rocks, barely glowing with blue flame. Only once it's reached the top does he open several bright blue eyes along its length. 

Orpheus sure is some huge bird monster. Man, though, he looks pretty pathetic about it. Michael bobs the tentacle and rearranges the eyes so it looks a little more like a snake and a little less like...you know, some kind of Lovecraftian horror.]

Hey...buddy. What's going on up here?

[His mental voice doesn't really "sound" like his physical one. For one thing, there's no sound. But it's not entirely unfamiliar, for people who know him.]

II

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ Orpheus watches the strange tendril rise out of the water with some interest - enough to get both eyes open and looking at it, at least, though there's still a distinct sort of sulky exhaustion to him that prevents him from doing much about it other than click his beak at it and hiss in a vaguely territorial way. It's only when someone sort-of speaks to him that he straightens up, feathers standing up and wings flaring in surprise before flattening down again as he seems to recognize something familiar here.

He ambles over, much less graceful on land than in the air, and cranes his long neck down to look it in the eyes. Without his song to amplify it, the projection of emotion radiating off of him is much more subtle, but there's a wave of something twisted up and complicated as he looks at his guest. For all that one would think that company would help with the miserable loneliness he was just broadcasting, there's instead a flaring of petulant anger and guilt and unworthiness and grief. It's hard to untangle, but the gist is this: You're not who he's looking for, he doesn't want your pity, he doesn't deserve your pity.

To that end, he makes a soft wailing noise and shuffles around so that his back is turned, hunkering down again, feathers fluffed against the cold. ]

iv

[entreats]

The moment Ange hears about what happened to Orpheus, she's already heading off.

Even though she knows it might not be the best idea. She's not sure what she can do on her own against someone in full beast form, after all. But on the other hand - she can't just hang back either. Not when Orpheus, way too kind Orpheus, doesn't deserve to have this happen to him. Not when he's made it very clear what Eurydice means to him, and now she's just.. gone. And he's left behind.

Maybe that's why the song has such a powerful effect on her. It pulls on her, especially since Ange already wants to get out to where Orpheus - or whatever he might be in his current form - is in the first place. It takes quite a lot for her to remember that there's no way she's going to swim over there. She's already shin deep into the water before she focuses enough to realise she needs to make it there another way.

So Ange closes her eyes, breathes in, and changes into a cloud of golden butterflies. They travel across the water, out, out, out, all the way to the rock where Orpheus is singing.

But the moment she reforms there, she can feel the song taking hold of her once more. It feels so much more intense, this up close. And the emotions in it are so familiar to Ange. That feeling of being left behind by yourself, of losing the person most important to you - she knows it so well that Ange doesn't even realise that tears have started to form in her eyes as she watches the odd bird-like beast.

".. Orpheus," she calls out, the moment the song falls quiet. The moment there's enough empty air for her voice to actually carry. "Oh, Orpheus.."

Ange feels herself choking up. Perhaps the after-effect of the song, even now it has faded, and she reaches a hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"You're hurting."

If there's anything clear in the middle of all this, it's that fact. And Ange isn't sure how much this version of Orpheus will tolerate her just talking at him, but the thought of trying to attack him while he's like this is - even aside from being dumb, and likely to end with her death - too painful.

So words it is.

[themuseabandonsyou]

In another time and place, seeing his friend appear in a cloud of golden butterflies like this would be enough to fill Orpheus with a sense of wonderment - maybe not enough to cheer him up, but enough to remind him that maybe there is still beauty in the world. Here, though, twisted and torn up inside as he is, even that glimpse of hope feels like it's a lifetime away. As it is, he watches her standing at the edge of the small rocky outcropping he's perched himself on and only barely recognizes her.

Ange. A friend. But not the one he's looking for.

He opens his beak and wails, a beautiful and awful sound, something like whalesong and something like birdsong and all entirely miserable and wretched. This isn't singing this time, though, - this is just upset noise, but even that's enough to project some of that same sense of loneliness and unworthiness and grief, rolling off of him in almost tangible waves.

Hugging his arms to himself and folding both pairs of wing in as tightly as they'll go, he shrinks back against the rocks, unable to make eye contact. Shame intermingles with the rest - he doesn't want to be seen like this. He doesn't want to be like this. He doesn't want to be.

III.

[laminae]

Fern sees Vyng's message on the network and oh boy, does that bring up all kinds of unhappy memories. It had been a while since he'd though of the incident with himself and Orpheus, both monsters, at the lake in Deerington, but this is dragging all of that out of his mental vault. He's scared, because if Orpheus' beast form is anything like that (and it sounds like he is), then he knows very well what the guy is capable of. He got to experience it firsthand, even though he got off lucky since it's a lot harder to drown a plant than it is a person.

Still, he heads out, not wanting to abandon his friend when he needs the support the most. He gets hold of a boat and rows on over, sorely tempted to shift into his knight form, but he isn't sure how hostile that'll look to Orpheus.

Unfortunately for him, it doesn't really matter. As soon as he lands he's grabbed up and reflexively vines whip out from his arms, coiling around Orpheus's limbs. He struggles, but he tries to keep from actually hurting him in return. "Dude - come on, it's me!"

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus shrieks with an inhuman fury as Fern struggles in his grasp, the force of his voice coming accompanied by the same push of emotion that came with his song, albeit less intense. It's enough to get the idea, though - this anger is pointed inward with nowhere else to go, a sickening, violent sort of self-loathing and blame and right now there's nothing he wants more than for someone other than himself to take it out on. There's nothing rational about it - Fern is here and Orpheus is here and Eurydice's not and Orpheus is mad about it.

With a degree of strength deceptive for his emaciated form, Orpheus slams Fern down against the rocks, pinning him there and digging the talons of his thumbs into his shoulders. He snaps his beak at the vines growing up his arms, tearing away at them with no regard for if doing so hurts Fern. It should hurt. Neither of them deserves this place - the freedom, the second chance. Not when Eurydice didn't get to keep it.

IV. Just let me go, we'll meet again soon

[unphase]

Tinya's grateful that her Legion flight ring actually works here, unlike the accursed place she'd left. She'd heard the song from the beach where she'd left from and it's beautiful. It's also agonizing, singing of loss, being left behind by a loved one, about not being worthwhile.

Those are emotions she can relate to all too easily. Which made it even more imperative that she at least tried to help.

So she's not in her Legion uniform like she'd normally be under the circumstances. Instead, she's wearing a simple white slip-dress. She should be freezing, but she guesses that was another bonus of being what she now was.

When she lands, it doesn't take much searching to find Orpheus in his new form. She feels awful for him, they'd basically just met, but she was always too empathetic for her own good.

So she approaches carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible (which is a bonus of being barefoot) and calling out softly, "Orpheus. It's me, Tinya. I--I know we just met, but I want to help you. If I can. However I can."

[themuseabandonsyou]

Tinya isn't someone who's terribly familiar to him, and muddled up inside as he is at the moment all that comes back to him when he sees her is vague and scattered strains of memory. A legionnaire. A wife. A mother. Separated from her family too.

Orpheus makes a soft keening noise and buries his head under one of his wings as a sickening twist of emotion radiates off of him, broadcasting to everyone in earshot. There should be sympathy there - even in his bestial state he knows it, but instead there's just shame at the lack of it and a sharp pang of envy, that she and her husband had time to start a family in the first place. He knows it's not fair to think that way - that in a way Tinya is even worse off than he is - and a sense of anger at himself over it roils off of him too.

A soft, piteous warbling noise rises from his throat, chest heaving. He can't cry in this form, denied even that catharsis, and it's all he can do to keep from just screaming about it instead.

IV

[sparklehorror]

After nearly drowning over it, the pull of the song does not catch hold of Mabel again. Her own heart is another matter entirely, and even as she ventures to the Boardwalk for something dry to wear and a snack -- and passes by the lamp that would take her right home several times -- she just can't bring herself to leave the beach entirely. Not when she knows something so sad is out there. The additional reality that the sad thing is dangerous, and can likely get others killed too, honestly doesn't even cross her mind.

She's smarter about her second attempt to get close. Mabel's omen is her beloved Waddles, because what else would it be, but with the addition of wings and the ability to change size. She's used him as her noble steed around town plenty of times, especially during times when her vileblood invited hostility and she wasn't up for navigating crowded streets. Waddles bears her easily out to the cove Orpheus has ensconced himself in, and right away, Mabel knows for certain that no matter what happens next she was right to come here.

The way this beast has wrapped himself, the rocking, it's just like when Mabel goes to Sweatertown, her old huge turtlenecks pulled up over her head in an attempt to drown out a world that was simply too much sometimes. And the song. Mabel has felt that same sense of rejection so many times, in her "teenaged girl" sort of way, that she hasn't even tried to reach out for love from anyone but her immediately family since leaving Gravity Falls a solid year ago. If even a string of failed attempts at a summer romance can hurt so much that she was tempted to erase those memories entirely, it's no surprise at all that such a thing might send someone else to beasthood here in Trench.

"Oh." She slides from Waddles' back, landing carefully on the rocks a safe distance away from the beast. "Oh, no wonder you're so sad."

Mabel looks almost as wretched as he does, hair frizzed all to hell and draped in damp ruffles, eyes already welling up with tears of sympathy. Her first impulse, honestly, is to go give this beast a hug. Given that her own twin brother's brush with beasthood led to deep talon scars in her shoulders, she has the sense to hold back and see what this unfamiliar beast will do first. She really wants to, though. He looks like he needs it so much.

[themuseabandonsyou]

There's an unfamiliar girl here.

At first Orpheus just blinks at her, wide-eyed and owlishly, as he tries to remember if he knows her. Things are a little vague and hard to reach in his head right now, but he's pretty sure he's never seen her before? Or has he? She looks vaguely familiar.

He shakes his head, an agitated grumble rising from his throat as he hunkers back against the rocks, eyeing her suspiciously. She doesn't look like a hunter, so he's not worried about that, but he's tired and upset and he wants - well, he doesn't want to be alone, but there's only one person's company that he wants, and she's not here. Being wretched and miserable by himself seems the far better option than putting up with anyone else, and he opens his beak and hisses at the girl, a low and rasping sound. He doesn't make a move to attack, just yet, but there's a definite wariness to him, like that of a wounded wild animal.

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul has gone down to the shoreline just to spend some time in meditation and contemplation. He's trying to keep a lower profile after all the drama he caused as of late, to just really think about what he wants out of his time here and become better for good. He likes going to places full of nature for such a thing, something he can easily sense in the sea, especially with his patron Pthumerian being Mariana.

What he isn't expecting to find today is Orpheus, who judging by his state is partially corrupted. It's strange to see him just lying there. Is he dead? Maul doesn't think so given he can sense life within that body but perhaps he's on the verge of it? So the Sith Lord kneels down next to him and gives him a hard poke in the ribs with one of his claws to see if he'll react.]

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ Orpheus writhes a little bit at the jab, more out of reflex than anything else, but his eyes do flick away from the clouds moving slowly overhead to look at Maul afterwards. He sits up, slowly, brushing wet hair out of his eyes and jolting slightly as his fingertips brush against the short nubs of his antlers. Grimacing, he pulls his hand away. ]

I'm sorry, [ is what he says, and he's more than a little surprised that it comes out as words instead of warbling or a harsh croak. ] I don't - I'm sorry.

IV

[feudalladyshandmaid]

It's the mournful melody that draws Cassandra in. Ever distant, no matter how far she goes, no matter where the music draws her endless march. Eventually, she ends up on the beach, black armor glistening in the ocean spray. Her head, turned. Listening. It's just so... sad. That sound, out there, on the water.

She has to get closer.

Cassandra takes a step out into the water, and meets the surface with a rapidly expanding platform of black stone. And then another. And so on. Small platforms of rock, matching her stride as she ventures out beyond the water, all the way to that little island.

Once there, it's a matter of... whatever happens next. Even now, being drawn in by the musical sway, her sword hand itches.

"Hey. Are..." Oh. That's not human. Not anymore. "You're the one singing this song, aren't you?"

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus doesn't recognize this woman - even less so than he recognizes anyone, in the state he's in now - and he eyes her suspiciously, torn between the instinct to make himself look large and imposing to scare her off and the urge to try to hide, however ineffectually. Given the size of the island and the size of him, the latter option doesn't seem so possible, but he's worn himself out, and thinking about the prospect of fighting right now just makes him tired.

Ultimately he chooses to hunker back against the rocks, arms wrapped around himself and wings tucked in as close to his body as they'll go, meeting her question with a soft but decidedly hostile hiss. Eyes narrowed, he watches her carefully.

vi

[laruetheday]

It's not that Clarisse hasn't known what's been going on with Orpheus. She has, and has made a conscious decision to Avoid, with a capital A. The whole Siren thing... All the warning on the network got her to do was stay far, far away from the beach for a while. Which was, she supposes, the whole point of it. Nothing wrong with staying away from a situation guaranteed to kill you.

Afterward, though, the guilt starts to eat at her. She knows, after all, how it feels. When you're trapped so deep in grief that all you can feel is rage, and everybody you see is an enemy guilty of the crime of simply being alive. And it isn't like people checking in afterward helps all that much, but it's part of that necessary movement forward, and she feels like she owes Orpheus that much. They are cousins, after all, or... something like that.

"Just checking on you," she says after Orpheus answers the door, her gaze lingering on the downy feathers still clinging to his cheeks. "I heard you got pretty messed up."

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus just nods, biting his lip.

"Eurydice's gone," he says, quietly. "I - um. I didn't take it well."

He's still not taking it well. But at least he's roughly shaped like he's supposed to be, again. Birdlike feet and hands and feathers and antlers aside, of course. It's something. He steps back, letting the door swing open enough that Clarisse could come inside, should she choose to.

"Do you want to come in? I can get you some hot chocolate, or tea." Both luxuries, in a place like this. Orpheus and Eurydice had been saving them, stockpiling them for special occasions, but there's no point now. Might as well offer some comfort to someone who'll appreciate it.