[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

cw: potential drowning

[sparklehorror]

Mabel's first impulse at being grabbed is to punch, which is her first impulse on a lot of things, honestly. Given how disoriented she is, she misses entirely, and then is thoroughly distracted by the sudden return to air, which she needs. That Luca calls out to her then takes the fight out of her almost immediately, though. Appearance, shmearance. That's a nice voice asking if she's alright, and that's enough.

"Please!" she croaks, and then coughs. Her hands find their way to Luca's arms, and she clings fiercely.

cw: potential drowning

[schoolingfish]

Luca grips her arms as well, not wanting to risk her slipping away. Then, holding on tight, he tries to position her so she's as much above water as he can manage. This, of course, forces him underwater, but since he has gills this is perfectly fine with him, and he begins using his tail to propel them toward the shore.

[sparklehorror]

To her credit, once Mabel feels more secure, it doesn't take her long to calm down. Luca makes a great boogie board, and once they get going, she's able to anticipate incoming waves and dips well enough to hold her breath and scrunch up her face, mostly. She only coughs and sputters a few more times during their largely uneventful trip to the shore, and has plenty of time to focus on other, smaller problems, like wearing wet socks stuffed into boots and the massive soggy tangle of hair that is now plastered across half her face.

Once they reach the shallows, she helps, releasing Luca in favor of staggering up onto the sand on her own. Her limbs are trembling, but she makes it all the same, and flops face first into the sand.

"Blaaaah."

Expressing oneself into a face full of sand is not great. With great effort, Mabel flips onto her back instead, still covered in a pile of hair, and tries again.

"Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah."

This works better.

[schoolingfish]

Luca follows her most of the way to shore, but stops short of getting out of the water, laying in the sand with most of his body submerged except for his head.

"Um..."

What were those noises? Was she okay? He really doesn't know how much humans can handle with this kind of thing, but he knows they're really not supposed to be that far out in water and that they aren't very good swimmers. She seems a lot calmer now than when she was in the water before, and she seems a lot less likely to nearly punch him now, so he figures he'll just ask.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?"