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deercountry2022-03-12 08:04 pm
enblightened) wrote in deercountry2022-03-12 08:04 pm
Entry tags:
☣️ merely a trick of the light | OPEN
Who: Bigby, OPEN
What: Catacombs shenanigans, blood blisters, and resisting the moon.
When: Throughout March
Where: Catacombs, then the woods mostly.
Content Warnings: Trauma, blood, probable gore, body horror, blood blisters in prompt II
☣️ I. CATACOMBS
A. arrival
[Aw shit, here we go again.
The last thing Bigby had been doing was trying to keep himself calm and a clear mind, meditating for what felt like hours on end. If nothing else, his rage is quelled with the knowledge that Illarion is not dead or gone, merely displaced, yet he still knows nothing of how to reach him. Alternate dimensions are not impossible for him to fathom, though he has no knowledge on how to traverse with meaning in order to reach his dear friend.
So, suffice it to say, he's been in a mood that he's been trying to temper with his usual tactics. How unfortunate that it's been interrupted by the whim of an entity.
Bigby rises up from the dirt, grunting as he takes stock on his surroundings. He picks up the bag of supplies and briefly sorts through it.]
Supposed I ought to be grateful that I've been granted some means of rations before traversing the dark, as I once had.
B. untouchable treasures
[It's with a frustrated growl that Bigby shoves the rusted doors open, only to be faced with innumerable treasures, enough that would make his old companion the Antiquarian salivate at the sight. Trinkets, bobbles, so many a thing glittering. The smell of a hot, fine meal, exquisite clothing that reminds him of days in a noble's court.
None of that matters much in the face of a well loved work bench, an alchemist's tools left in immaculate condition. That is too familiar.
But he is beyond those days -- and thus, those kinds of temptations.]
Best we move on. Pay none of it any heed, tis nothing more than bait.
[Even if he does feel the tingling urge to reach out and touch, he does not, and instead scoffs at the sight of it as if it were an insult.]
C. til death do we part
[There are some companions that, of course, he does think to miss in some ways, even if he certainly doubts the sentiment is much returned for what he is. Still, it does make him hesitate when he sees familiar figures in the darkness, ones that truly mean much to his heart. Yet, there is one that stands before the others curtained away by the lack of light.
There is a woman, golden hair in curls, her head bowed as if in regret. Her clothing easily marks her as a noble, despite its tattered state, caked with filth and dirt of the catacombs.]
What use are my words? You are not her. She has long since passed from any plane of living! What mockery I am given.
[She does not react, and Bigby grits his teeth for a moment, his hands clenched.]
...Your fears, your choice, your betrayal -- all that I could forgive... if you had kept your promise. Too long I spent hoping, and that it was a lesson to let it rot in the dark just as I had. Did you ever regret it?
[And still, to his growing frustration, she says nothing.]
D. as above, so below
[THE KINDNESS OF THE WORLD IS BEHIND YOU: HELL IS AHEAD. AS ABOVE, SO IS BELOW. THAT WHICH HAS BEEN, WILL RETURN AGAIN.
Before the pitch black hole waiting for them, Bigby gazes down, finding even his eyes cannot make out what is waiting within. He hesitates, an unusual thing during this entire trek for once; everything else he'd just about faced with determination and vigor.
Here, he pauses, torch in hand.]
Something stirs within. Ah, I wonder... what is expected of us now?
[And so it is: he is here, to perhaps listen to your sudden confessions should you have any. Whatever urge is there for him, he seems less disturbed by.]
☣️ II. INTO THE WOODS
[In the forest, it is where the red mounds filled with blood are, pulsing and ready to pop. Whether they're growing out of trees or unearthed, they are terribly delicate sacs, pungent and corrupted.
It is, at worst, irritating for Bigby; he has been reluctant to move into the city truly, and here the foliage bears a sickening fruit. The beasts this blood summons are things he does not particularly fear, and the hounds that feast on them are fine enough company for the moment.
Besides, he has his own pressing matters as he sighs and walks on. That's about when he notices you, and he scowls.]
Hail and be wary; best you keep your distance from these accursed things, lest you wish to be a meal for beasts yourself.
What: Catacombs shenanigans, blood blisters, and resisting the moon.
When: Throughout March
Where: Catacombs, then the woods mostly.
Content Warnings: Trauma, blood, probable gore, body horror, blood blisters in prompt II
☣️ I. CATACOMBS
A. arrival
[Aw shit, here we go again.
The last thing Bigby had been doing was trying to keep himself calm and a clear mind, meditating for what felt like hours on end. If nothing else, his rage is quelled with the knowledge that Illarion is not dead or gone, merely displaced, yet he still knows nothing of how to reach him. Alternate dimensions are not impossible for him to fathom, though he has no knowledge on how to traverse with meaning in order to reach his dear friend.
So, suffice it to say, he's been in a mood that he's been trying to temper with his usual tactics. How unfortunate that it's been interrupted by the whim of an entity.
Bigby rises up from the dirt, grunting as he takes stock on his surroundings. He picks up the bag of supplies and briefly sorts through it.]
Supposed I ought to be grateful that I've been granted some means of rations before traversing the dark, as I once had.
B. untouchable treasures
[It's with a frustrated growl that Bigby shoves the rusted doors open, only to be faced with innumerable treasures, enough that would make his old companion the Antiquarian salivate at the sight. Trinkets, bobbles, so many a thing glittering. The smell of a hot, fine meal, exquisite clothing that reminds him of days in a noble's court.
None of that matters much in the face of a well loved work bench, an alchemist's tools left in immaculate condition. That is too familiar.
But he is beyond those days -- and thus, those kinds of temptations.]
Best we move on. Pay none of it any heed, tis nothing more than bait.
[Even if he does feel the tingling urge to reach out and touch, he does not, and instead scoffs at the sight of it as if it were an insult.]
C. til death do we part
[There are some companions that, of course, he does think to miss in some ways, even if he certainly doubts the sentiment is much returned for what he is. Still, it does make him hesitate when he sees familiar figures in the darkness, ones that truly mean much to his heart. Yet, there is one that stands before the others curtained away by the lack of light.
There is a woman, golden hair in curls, her head bowed as if in regret. Her clothing easily marks her as a noble, despite its tattered state, caked with filth and dirt of the catacombs.]
What use are my words? You are not her. She has long since passed from any plane of living! What mockery I am given.
[She does not react, and Bigby grits his teeth for a moment, his hands clenched.]
...Your fears, your choice, your betrayal -- all that I could forgive... if you had kept your promise. Too long I spent hoping, and that it was a lesson to let it rot in the dark just as I had. Did you ever regret it?
[And still, to his growing frustration, she says nothing.]
D. as above, so below
[THE KINDNESS OF THE WORLD IS BEHIND YOU: HELL IS AHEAD. AS ABOVE, SO IS BELOW. THAT WHICH HAS BEEN, WILL RETURN AGAIN.
Before the pitch black hole waiting for them, Bigby gazes down, finding even his eyes cannot make out what is waiting within. He hesitates, an unusual thing during this entire trek for once; everything else he'd just about faced with determination and vigor.
Here, he pauses, torch in hand.]
Something stirs within. Ah, I wonder... what is expected of us now?
[And so it is: he is here, to perhaps listen to your sudden confessions should you have any. Whatever urge is there for him, he seems less disturbed by.]
☣️ II. INTO THE WOODS
[In the forest, it is where the red mounds filled with blood are, pulsing and ready to pop. Whether they're growing out of trees or unearthed, they are terribly delicate sacs, pungent and corrupted.
It is, at worst, irritating for Bigby; he has been reluctant to move into the city truly, and here the foliage bears a sickening fruit. The beasts this blood summons are things he does not particularly fear, and the hounds that feast on them are fine enough company for the moment.
Besides, he has his own pressing matters as he sighs and walks on. That's about when he notices you, and he scowls.]
Hail and be wary; best you keep your distance from these accursed things, lest you wish to be a meal for beasts yourself.
no subject
well ]
No-- [ he is a lying liar. But it's not like Kaneki can say what he eats ] I mean, I can handle no food for a long time. So it's alright if you take it.
[ kaneki will not, he will just leave the mushrooms behind ]
no subject
Well. Advise me if that changes, for whatever reason.
[He'll take the other rations, then. For now.]
I have not seen nor heard your voice before. Have you recently arrived, fellow Sleeper?
no subject
still, he smiles a little, gladly giving back the mushrooms to Bigby ]
I arrived this month. [ he looks around the catacombs ] is this... something that happens often?
no subject
A shame that Madame Generosity was not inclined for another calming festivity.
[He shakes his head, then reveals a flashlight from one of the satchels. Less that he needs the light to see, but... well, it is a comfort to him. Being completely in the dark makes him uneasy and his skin crawl. He isn't a beast, he isn't a beast.]
I surmise this is the Moss King's doing, although admittedly I know not his usual manners.
no subject
Are there ones that... actually care? I mean- [ kaneki looks around ] We are being thrown around without being asked, and this is all pretty dangerous. [ he has been to the Jungle too, now Catacombs? It's all really dangerous ]
SHould we always expect something bad to happen?
no subject
[The question makes him grimace.]
...Tis wise to brace yourself. Even in months bearing kindness, for something else wicked might linger unnoticed. Not all of it is wretched, but one can hardly expect these beings to understand our needs either.
no subject
Everything in this place is unpredictable already - it's hard to know where to turn. [ and it's not just because they are in some dark catacombs. ] I hope at least it gets easier to go along with things. [ kaneki is far too new at this to just be okay with it all ]
How long have you been in Trench?
no subject
[And he, too, does not necessarily mean the catacombs.]
For me, Trench is a better home than where I'd been before. Perhaps an unfair comparison, as so much would be brighter and improved in comparison from where I came.
[To the length of time:] Mm. Four months, going on five, if I am not mistaken. Not all peaceful, but not all horrifying.
no subject
Ah- I'm sorry... [ that his world was bad ] It's good that this place is kinder to you, though. [ kaneki can't relate, but he means it. To him, this place is so scary and awful, the fact that some people find it better is a good thing ] Hopefully I will eventually come to see it in a better light, too.