deercountry | there's a monster in my closet

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there's a monster in my closet

MAY 2022 EVENT

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Half man, half goat gazing through the sky in front of mountain.]
[Image Two: Deer-like skeletal creature talking in a forest.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Bees crawling out of and over a calm man's cheek.]
[Image Two: Humanoid figure with honeycomb skin.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Skull beside dried flowers.]
[Image Two: Red wilting flowers. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

SELF EVALUATION

WHEN: May
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body horror, heavy themes of dysphoria and body dysmorphia, acceptance of self, forced physical transformations.

An excerpt from Book of Bausphomette:

"They say you should walk a mile in someone's shoes before casting judgment. The true rhetoric can be applied to Bausphomette's version of 'self-evaluation.' It shouldn't come as a surprise that a Pthumerian would have a very different idea of self-evaluation than the typical person, but here we are and I'm going to give you a heads up: don't freak out about the fur.

Or scales. Really, it could be anything, but when your body starts to change into something you can't recognize, you're not going crazy and you're not turning into a Beast. Or okay, you're turning into a beast but not a Beast with a capital B. You will be yourself, have your normal personality, your normal thoughts, your normal habits...You just...Won't exactly look like yourself. People have been known to turn into minotaurs or sprout ten wings or become half-goat on top and all fish on the bottom. Either way, you're not going to be physically recognizable.

But you will be yourself. You will just have new vocal cords or have to learn a new means of communication. Telling your loved ones about your sudden transformation might be a bit alarming, but I think that's kind of the point. Bausphomette seems to believe the monstrous transformation will allow people to consider different parts of themselves that are usually hindered by social judgments. Are you really happy with yourself enough to not mind being a beast? How does this impact your relationship with your body? Does your body matter to you as much as you believed? Can you adapt to this new body and come to love it?

Granted, not everyone has hated this process. It has made some parts of life especially exciting...If you know what I mean. Thankfully the process doesn't last! The general idea is that once you have accepted something about yourself you will begin to turn back to your usual body! Of course, for more stubborn folks, this has been known to take a few months...Try not to be too stubborn or resistant to the new change! ...It will only make it worse."

QUICK FACTS 1. Your character can have various monstery attributes during May. They should be monsterous - not cute little ears or a non-distracting tail.

2. The lesson the characters learn can vary greatly and depend on what players choose to explore.

3. Feel free to go as heavy-handed with the body horror. Your character can magically just wake up with the body or go through some painful transformation.

4. Characters should NOT have mental alteration during this period. The point is that they are still themselves regardless of their new appearance.

5. Have the size of the beast be appropriate to the setting's size.

6. Temporary powers can be gained through the beast's body for the month. Do not break the setting.

HUMMING IN THE SKIN

WHEN: May
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: Increased bouts of mindless violence, optional insect-based horror, insects in skin, honeycomb in skin, bodies as hives for insects, extreme body horror.

An old article clipping was gathered from a newspaper that used to run in Trench. It seems like the rest of the article is missing except for the end:

"And, he said, "They will say that I have shed innocent blood. What's blood for, if not for shedding?"

We do not know what this Sleeper's intent was, but we do know the impact lasted. Reports of symptoms include feeling as though your skin is humming, that there's itchiness you can't quite get rid of like something is always crawling over your skin and around inside of you. Some people claim that this remains a mental only terror that keeps them up at night. Some have been known to scratch open holes in their skin and pull themselves apart just to make sure they aren't filled with bugs. We wish we could say that it was only a paranoid curse, but it seems there is some foundation to the concern.

Some who have gotten cuts or other injuries at this time will discover various insects, but especially bees crawling out from exposed wounds. Once you have gotten an injury, the humming seems to get worse. A descent to madness happens swiftly, but all at once, you become calm and content with the situation. Your skin slowly becomes honeycombed, bees moving in and out of you freely. You become a walking, talking hive.

But of course, that's just the worst-case scenario. For the most part, people who are itching mindlessly seem to be driven to bouts of violence, wanting to get rid of the feeling by randomly attacking those nearby. Strangely enough, the bloodshed during these attacks does not seem to contribute to blood pollution.

Instead, blood shed during this time of month seems to be instantaneously soaked up by your immediate surroundings. The bees from these people have been seen flying everywhere, and instead of collecting pollen, they seem to be collecting blood magic. Either to bring it back to their walking hives or using it for other deeds..."

IMPOSTERS

WHEN: May-June
WHERE: Outside where flowers can be found
CONTENT WARNINGS: Demonic, violent, blood thirsty flowers?? Parasite style monsters.

From Plantlife and You: Trench Edition:

"This is a tricky subject as it does not technically have to do with actual plantlife but rather the nefarious imitation of plantlife.

As spring begins be cautious of the plants around you. It might be lovely to see tulips popping open and other spring delights coming to light. We all like to see the splashes of color pop up around Trench, especially after such cold, long months...But be wary.

Among these flowers are insidious imposters. Telling them apart from the original flowers is almost impossible. You can only do your best to be careful around any plantlife you interact with. They look like flowers, but these creatures are demonic beasts who have perfectly cultivated a flawless mimic. Instead of sunlight and water, they soak in the blood of Trench up through their roots. If you pick the wrong flower, blood will squirt out from the roots and vines.

The bees from Sleeper bodies seem intent on pollinating these exact flowers with blood, leaving little bloody streaks in their wake, but the bees jump between normal flowers and the imposters, making it difficult to properly figure out which is which.

I know what you're thinking: okay, so what? They eat blood, big deal, they are just flowers...

Ha! Did you really think it would be that simple? No, no, these imposters will invade your gardens and your homes. Their little vines will wrap around your foot when you're in the garden or taking a walk. It's not evident at first, but it doesn't take much for a flower to grow on your body. Harmless, painless, but they will suck your blood dry. They have been known as silent killers, parasitic, draining you of life and energy and magic slowly but surely.

And the catch is once you have one flower growing on you, more will come, and it can distort your personality and make you feel or act as though you are drunk. Things won't make sense and you won't exactly know how to ask for help. Your only luck is that someone else will notice. Taking the flowers off requires an icy bath or shower and some serious salt scrub. To prevent this in general, you will want to keep your skin covered thoroughly and not allow pollen to brush against you since that's all it takes. Good luck!"

CODING

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Lexi hadn't bothered to do anything with her yard, at least not yet. Most of it was covered by two huge shrubs and she didn't feel like getting involved with anything really involved. Not without help, at least, she didn't know the first thing about gardening. Other than flowers were pretty, vegetables were better, and weeds needed to die.

But luckily enough for Kyle's sake, she sees him out of the corner of her eye, apparently upset about something. It wasn't until she got close that she saw the flowers sprouting out, Kyle himself stumbling like he'd had too much to drink.

"Ohmygod, what--? No, I heard something about this, give me a minute, just. Sit down for now?"

"Sit?" he asks, sounding upset. He looks around and, seeing no chairs outside, simply sinks to the ground. He grunts in annoyance when he sits on his own wings.

"Oh. It's you! Hello. It's Kyle." In case she didn't know, because Kyle knows what he looks like right now.

"Hey," she responded, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt. That was a new look he was sporting, but it seemed like almost everyone was. She'd managed to luck out this month, but something told her that the following month would make up for that with a vengeance.

"Okay. This is gonna sound weird and it'll probably be gross, but I think we have to pull the flowers out. Do you have a pair of dishwashing gloves for me to use? 'Cause I don't want the flower thing to happen to me while I'm trying to help you.

"That," Kyle says with the careful enunciation of the very drunk, "is not the grossest thing to have ever happened to me." He stands back up. "I have gloves! They're in the house. You can come inside."

He weaves toward the building, having some trouble with the outer door and then even more trouble with the stairs, mostly because his wings keep bonking into the walls. Upstairs he gets his apartment door open and heads for the kitchen area of the cozy little studio.

He points at the rubber dishwashing gloves laid over the edge of the kitchen sink triumphantly before he goes and sits at the small kitchen table. "I'd offer you coffee but I'm all out. It's a very coveted substance here."

Yeah, she's very familiar with that tone of voice. Thanks, Mom. And Cassie. "I'm afraid to ask what is. And that's good, I'd heard that they send their stuff through pollen? So, um, yeah. Lead on."

She follows behind him carefully, afraid he might topple over and take both of them down the flight of stairs. And she's not going to laugh at his wings bumping against the wall, she's not, she's not. But the apartment is cute.

She picks up the dishwashing gloves once they're pointed out and puts them on. "It's okay, I don't mind. I usually like tea better anyway." Lies, but she didn't want to make him feel bad for not having coffee. "So. How should we do this? You just kinda stand still and I yank flowers out?"

"You probably don't want to know," he agrees. "Oh, the pollen. Doesn't that just fucking figure."

To be fair to her, it is genuinely funny to watch.

"Oh, I have tea!" He half stands but his wings whap the chair and he thumps back down. "In the cupboard above the counter. I will make you some. Uhm. After."

Kyle holds up an arm from which several blossoms are growing. "I dunno if that'll work. I tried pulling them out and nothing happened. But I also feel weak as shit, so maybe I just suck. Uhm. You said you knew a bit about it, was there like... instructions?" It's difficult to focus, and his multiple eyes all blink sleepily.

"Yeahhhh. I almost took a weed whacker to my entire flower bed, but I was afraid that pollen might spray out and get me."

"Okay, great! But this flower thing is definitely the first priority." So she tries to pull a few out, only to see more sprout up in their wake. "Shit. All right. I'll figure this out, you just chill as much as possible and I'll get back to you."

Fortunately, she had Orville with her. She gently picked him up from her shoulder and drew him up so he could whisper in her ear. "Orville. What's the solution here?" When she got her answer, she looked up in shock.

"...well. Good news, I have an answer. Bad news, you're not going to like it."

"Okay," Kyle says, then thinks. "Thank you."

He watches Orville with perfect delight. He might feel drunk and weak and strange, but goddamn Orville is adorable.

Kyle sighs. "Is this going to be disgusting? Like I have to bathe in pee?"

"Sure, no problem," she says easily. She'd want someone to help her, were she in the same situation.

He is, he is, she was initially confused that she got a hedgehog when most people seemed to be getting wolves and stuff like that. But she'd duel to the death to defend Orville and his position as her Omen. Besides, hedgehogs are cute, sweet, and underrated. Just like her.

Lexi looks awkward. So damn awkward. "...so, uh. Turns out you need an ice-cold bath and have to scrub down with salt. Which sounds painful, but I can't find anything else which worked.

Kyle is just staring happily at Orville, which is still a little disturbing what with the never-blinking wing eyeballs and all. He sits up a little and looks over.

"Huh? Oh. That's okay. I have salt in the cupboard." He gets up and wobbles down the short hall to the bathroom, where he turns on the cold faucet. He wanders back, headed for the kitchen cupboards.

"This place really is sadistic," he muses. "I mean, literally rubbing salt in the wounds. It's a good thing you're smart and thought to avoid all the stupid flowers in the first place." He sighs. "I swear I'm smart, normally."

She would happily nominate Orville for Cutest Omen Ever and she'd insist on his more unconventional cuteness when pitted against a traditionally "cute" animal.

And he's...taking that well. Far better than she would were she in his shoes.

"I know, right? When it's not being sadistic, it has a mean sense of humor, if this passes for humor. And I don't know the first thing about gardening, I figured I'd let my flowerbed be without messing with it. Gardening was one of the only things Mom did herself." Granted, instead of a water bottle, Suze would have a bottle of chardonnay, but the gardens still looked pretty.

A little salt scrub is far from the most painful thing Kyle has endured.

"Yeah!" he cries. "Like it's not enough to hurt us, it has to be ironic."

He pulls out a big box of salt and holds it up.

"I can give you some of my vegetables and mushrooms, for your garden. If you want them."

Still. It's the principle of the thing! A salt scrub sounds both terribly painful and like a terrible waste of salt.

"I'm five seconds from singing some Alanis Morisette, just so you know. Something, something, rain on your wedding day and a whole bunch of coincidences with no relation to irony go here."

...that is an awfully big container of salt. "Jeez. Planning for a margarita party? If so, why didn't I get an invitation?"

And that gets an earnest grin. "Sure! If you don't mind, that would be perfect, I'd love to be able to harvest my own produce instead of haggle for it at the marketplace."

Kyle groans. "Ugh, god. Thank you for refraining."

He shrugs, wobbling his way toward the bathroom with his massive salt box. "I cook a lot. So, you know, you need salt for that. But if I have a margarita party you are totally, totally invited."

He has to pause just inside the bathroom, swaying a little. He's getting light headed.

"Oh, yeah. Of course! We have to help each other out."

"Sure, no problem. It really is an awful song and I kind of hate it," she said with a shrug.

The way Kyle wobbled looked really ungainly to Lexi. She's never seen a transformation like this before and she's more than a little grateful that she had yet to do so. But she's heard rumors. "Thanks, I'll bring guacamole. Assuming I can find fresh avocado. That's a big assumption."

And she wishes she could physically support him, but she knows that might be kind of awkward in a different way. So she gave him an encouraging smile.

"Definitely. Especially when weird shit happens."

"What's the best song?"

He's not exactly graceful in his regular body and all the extra appendages are not helping him any. He sets the salt down by the old fashioned ribcage bathtub and turns on the water as cold as possible. While he focuses on that his wings shift the eyes on the joints there watch Lexi.

"It's very nice of you to help me. I know this is sorta creepy."

"Oh, jeez. That's nearly impossible to answer. My mom was into angry chick music in the 90s and I kind of slowly borrowed them until they were all mine. But I guess I'd go with "Enjoy," by Bjork."

Yeah, she can see that. And she'd really like to have a word with the Pthumerian of the month and ask what sort of lesson such transformations were supposed to teach other than "life sucks sometimes." Which all of them there were smart enough to figure out on their own. And she figures she's getting used to life here because the eyes on his wings moving to watch her didn't really weird her out.

"A little. But for a while, I practically had to shove Cassie in the shower. Especially over Christmas break, she was kind of a giant lump."

Kyle grins at that. "Angry chick music. That's funny. But I know exactly what you mean. You lucked out, my mom loves like, Barbara Streisand. Even AFTER she destroyed half our town." Kyle. Kyle, don't drag your weirdness into this.

He nods. "God. I know that feeling. My best friend, when he got really depressed it was like... yeah. I physically washed him a few times. Which I can tell YOU because you understand. Other people would think that was weird."

He studies the tub and makes a face.

"...I might need your help scrubbing. I'm so sorry. But I don't like... have genitals right now, if that makes it better?"

She grins back. "Barbara Streisand destroyed your town? What, did someone give one of her albums a negative review? Or did someone tell her that there was no way anyone would have mistaken her for a guy in 'Yentil?'"

"Jeez. That sounds rough. Really rough." And she nodded. "I do understand and I promise I won't tell anyone."

The tub seems awfully small and he seems awfully large. Hmm. How was this going to work?

"It does. And I don't mind, I'd want someone to help me if I was in a similar situation. So. Let's get started?" She'd sure want to get it over with if she had to take a salt scrub in freezing cold waters.

"She did! No, it was, uhm, she wanted this magic triangle thing." He sounds a little drunk but still completely earnest. "She totally turned into this huge mech and trashed everything."

He smiles, all of his facial eyes crinkling up softly at the edges. "Thanks. That means a lot."

He wraps his wings around himself as he undresses, staying huddled that way even as he goes to step into the tub.

"AH! Ah, cold!" he squeaks. He winds up standing there like an idiot for a moment as he works out that he has to lift his wings up so he can sit in the tub. He does so, splashing down into the water.

"Fuck! Ohhhh, this sucks, dude."

"Okay, in my world all she does is openly support Democrats. Which can be tricky enough in a world that seems to have let its MAGA hats consume their brains." And she's trying to picture a Barbara Streisand mech and is failing utterly.

She smiles back. "Sure. I mean, we're friends. Friends help friends, it's kind of in the job description."

Everything looks uncomfortable, from the wings to the posture to his expression.

She winces in sympathy. "I know. I know. But the site was positive, ice cold water only. Just. Think about it being Boy Scout Camp?" Goodness knows that the campgrounds Mrs. Bennett took them to in late grade school hadn't exactly been a luxury retreat. Or even a Motel 6.

"Yeah. Yeah. It probably will for a while. Now, where's the salt?"

"Yeah, that's not as fucking weird sounding, I guess," he says. "But I understand the brain consuming thing. Small town. Although I think we're fairly like... not AS bad as you'd think? For a bunch of rednecks, anyway."

He looks so relieved that it's a little heartbreaking. But then of course he just looks cold. He gestures beside the tub.

"F-floor," he chatters out. "Y-you were in the S-scouts, too?"

"Small suburb in California. But we're in Orange County, that's always been kind of a hive of scum and villainy. What was your small town like? Other than having rednecks, I think that's a constant in most towns."

She feels so bad for him! It can't be easy to move around in the tub considering his current form and the fact that the water was absolutely freezing. The only way to make it colder would be to dump a sack of ice into it and she was in no hurry to do that.

And she goes to sit by the tub. "Yeah. Until seventh grade. It was wild, there were like thirty of us little brats and only one Mrs. Bennett. How about you?"

Oh boy. What was South Park like? "...weird," he settles on. "Like, I think maybe there was lead in the water or something? People were really stupid. Like REALLY stupid."

Talking helps, even though he's still shivering and he has to force himself to keep from wrapping his wings around himself. He does feel more clear-headed, though.

"I'm talking 'we saw on TV that most children are kidnapped by relatives so let's turn all the children in town out of their homes and let them roam free because that's safer.' Thank god a bunch of Mongols were nearby, we all probably would have died." Okay, so maybe he still sounds drunk.

"I was, but like, it was specifically for Jewish kids. It was kinda lame, I missed being away from my REAL friends. I quit in seventh grade too by convincing my mom that it would interfere with my academics. I was a camp counselor for a summer in high school, which I guess is equally lame."

"Weird and the people were stupid? Yiiiiiiikes. Okay, suddenly East Highland doesn't seem so bad. Well. Other than the jerk jocks but they're like a fixture at any school."

He sounds like he's doing better, but she's still feeling awful. And the salt scrub hasn't even begun yet, she really hoped he had no open wounds.

"Okay, I...don't even know where to start with that? Mongols? Like actual Mongols from Mongolia? And free range child rearing is a thing, but that's beyond a thing into like. Underpants on the head lack of logic and sense." He does a little, but his example is so weird that either it has to be true or his brain is currently scrambled eggs. She's hoping for the former.

"Really? Hmm. I'm afraid to ask what the sing-alongs were other than that one about the Dreidel and that awful Adam Sandler song which gets played to death during Chanukah. But, yeah, hate to tell you that there's nothing cool about being a camp counselor.

Not even if Jason attacked, because it's always a final girl. Which is gender-reductive, doesn't take the experiences of trans* kids into account, and is one of those things you know is going to happen during any slasher film, but they keep doing it anyway. So overdone."

Imposters

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(CW: alcoholism)

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(CW: cross-dressing in a referenced movie)

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(CW: politics, MAGA)

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