deercountry | there's a monster in my closet

Entry tags:

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Is that so...

[It sounds like both a revelation, and a sisyphean task that has been bleakly and hopelessly revealed to him. What is a best version if one can barely be good, and only then sporadically or incidentally?

His horned head and shoulders droop slightly, his sooty wings along with them. At least for the moment, this is insurmountable. Not because he can think of no such thing about himself to examine or tackle, but because he doesn't even know where to start. Asking for help is probably the least of it; he wonders how Lycka would respond.]

It's possible. It's just that it all feels so dirty.

[And he's aware of how that sounds, especially when there's nothing clean or neat about his current visage.]

[sansa peers at him, fond but curious. lady found his sleeping body in an abandoned house, but she's pretty sure they all have running water. at least, she has no reason to think otherwise.]

The smoke? Can't you wash off the soot?

[bees on the inside seems infinitely more dirty-feeling than any kind of...dirt. she's never seen a beehive or swarm up close, there are...quite a lot of them.]

If you burn your clothes, I can mend them well enough from here.

[unless he burns them off entirely, in which case...she has the scarf?]

I mean to make you more of them anyway.

[He shakes his head, miserably frustrated.]

Staying wet only helps so much. The heat my body generates is such that it just accumulates again within a half-hour.

[He cants his head, touched, in his way, by her offer. She's made it before, he recalls, offering it as payment for research.]

It's my arrival robe, so fortunately fire isn't a concern. I'd be more worried about you burning yourself, if you got close enough to mend the normal wear-and-tear...

[Taking it off for mending isn't really an option at the moment. That much, likely, is well-implied.]

[sansa lifts her eyebrows, she's not sure how close to the fabric she to be to cast her mending spell, but she thinks she can manage a foot or two.]

I could start by making you another set of robes. I can get the treated cloth.

[she peers at the robe.]

I think I can cast the spell from here, but you'd better try burning off the bees first.

[sansa's mouth twists. she had always been told maesters cleaned the needle in fire before stitching a person back together, although she can't remember if she'd heard it in lessons or from her parents or arya being gruesome about some injury she or their brothers had sustained.]

You must know that fire burns off all the germs as well.

Edited 2022-05-19 06:14 (UTC)

Having another set would be highly convenient.

[He actually hadn't considered the getting the treated cloth was something one could do, even though it's pretty obvious when he bothers to give it some thought. Someone is making all the robes for the new sleepers who wash up as squids, after all.]

If the temperature is high enough, then yes... and I'll certainly try.

[Gingerly, he brings a hand to his face, flames licking at his fingers. It stands to reason that his face should be as fireproof as his hand, but it's a mental hurdle to get over, bringing something burning so close to his eyes. He places it on the opposite side of where the opening to hive and honeycomb pattern appears to be, and startles a few moments later. More bees are pouring out in an effort to escape the heat.]

[that is...a lot of bees. it's interesting that the flames seem to come out of his hands, and he has to put them to his face. it's not dissimilar to what she's seen of coldbood magic. she doesn't know how to best support him in this bee-removal process.]

The bees seem to be leaving. I think you're doing well.

[she wonders if the honeycomb-pattern thing beneath his skin is truly beeswax, and if it will melt off. it occurs to her that if it does, it would probably fetch a good price. but perhaps it could be dangerous, if the wrong person purchased it.]

I've heard they nest in open wounds. You must be careful not to cut yourself out of doors. Glover Lover does sell fireproof gloves. I do a little work for them; I'm sure I could find you some.

[The conversation does a good job pulling his mind and the accompanying revulsion away from the process that is currently occurring in his face. The whole thing is both highly logical, events following a set course, and absolutely awful to comprehend.]

Since the changes started, my skin has cracked of its own accord.

[He is certainly referring to the harlequin-like patchwork pattern on all of his exposed skin, and presumably the rest. Sloppy stitches are in place to hold the edges together.

If what she says is true, he's a veritable magnet for infestation.]

[sansa now peers at the cracks in his skin with a critical eye. the stitches aren't good. she expects to be passed over in magic matters, but sewing...? she lifts her eyebrows as she speaks, deadpan.]

If only you knew someone who could sew it back together.

[she frowns. perhaps she could sew him some kind of beekeeper's outfit from the treated fabric? the trouble is she's not sure what beekeepers wear. she'll have to try and look it up on her omni crystal.]

You shouldn't be outside right now.

[something occurs to her. it is a little embarrassing, but definitely better than bees.]

My home is narrow, and it doesn't have a hall for guests, but I do have some empty rooms on the second floor. There is a tub you could use, in one of the wash rooms, and I could fetch you things like food while you talk to Bausphomette.

[she pauses.]

They can often be found on the rooftops at night. If you asked, they might help you understand your curse.

[It takes a lot to mortify L. Though he's a wide-eyed innocent in some ways, unexpectedly inexperienced in many mundane matters, he is equally jaded in others, and they happen to be some of humanity's uglier elements. The notion of Sansa stitching together his skin, for whatever reason, tips the scale of grotesquery beyond the pale for him.]

I'd not ask you to do that for me. It's not pleasant.

[As though she's only ever dealt with pleasant things, something they both know to be untrue. His brows raise at her second offer, which, while not mortifying, is a surprise.]

...thank you. I'd like that opportunity, truly.

[And he appreciates the simple, straightforward way she lays out the plan. One less thing to think about when he's undone this way.

He assumes, of course, that he wouldn't be staying longer than the plan's duration. It's stressful in its own way, because the events of the last few days have interfered with his typical routine of scouting abandoned locations to sleep in, a rotation he has ramped up since what happened with the Emperor.]

[sansa thinks wildly about seam allowances, but fortunately coming up with a coherent jest is more effort than she cares to expend in the moment. she continues to watch the bees (and the...wax?).]

I imagine it's much worse when you do it to yourself.

[sansa's not a maester, she's never even seen any sewing done on living flesh, but she has a steady, practiced hand.

no one in cellar door would take any notice of who is coming in and out of her house. it is only her own misplaced sense of propriety she must overcome. she briefly shuts her eyes, and sighs.]

You will have to clean your own dishes. I'm not very good at housekeeping, and I don't have anyone to help me most of the time.

[but she says it with fondness, and a hint of a smile.]

[He nods with vague distaste when she points out that the unpleasantness doesn't exactly spare him, either. She has a talent for little social graces like this, he's noticed, ways to spare others from embarrassment and help them save face. He doesn't think she's using it to manipulate him, but goodness, what a weapon, should she choose to use it.]

I'll clean up after myself. At most of the places I've stayed, no one would even be able to tell that I'd been there at all.

[The exception being when the Emperor's little book melted off his hand and left about a body's worth of paleblood all over the floorboards of an abandoned house. No amount of scrubbing had removed the stain; it's probably still there.

It's still a good record. He sounds proud of his tracelessness.]

Since you're doing me a favor, I'll even find something to leave better than I found it, OK?

[sansa smiles fondly, then hesitates a moment. she makes it a point not to track down her friends, in an effort not to do so many things that littlefinger would do. but she is out on the streets most nights as a direwolf, and lady has caught his scent in several places, none of them especially nice.

she shouldn't let her own backwards westerosi sense of propriety get in the way of a friend, especially such a very useful one, having a nice, safe place to stay.]

Only if you have somewhere better to go to, after.

My house is well-warded against danger, and there truly are a lot of empty rooms.

[she still hopes to fill them with her family, but even so.]

[He stares; while he doesn't share any sense of backwards propriety, aware that Sleepers move in roommates and friends all the time, he never thought of that as being for him. Surely no one would want him around that much, so he just scouts, moves his bedroll and backpack from place to place, camps, and repeats. Endlessly, every few days, finding some comfort in the ritual but no real security or peace.]

You'd offer that?

[No one else has, and of course he hasn't asked. She probably knows him well enough by now to at least guess as much.]

Edited 2022-06-05 06:30 (UTC)

[not to everyone. sansa is vaguely aware some of her friends live together, and of course the dreadful bone house seemed to hold a good many people, but without her own set of guards, with only lady to defend her, and the blood hound to defend lady--]

I trust you well enough.

[it's not an easy thing for her to say, and it's meant to put him at his ease, as she's aware, albeit only partially consciously, of his vulnerability in this situation, and seeks to offer up some of her own, so that he might not become defensive.

it's only half true. she trusts him not to hurt her, but she doesn't entirely trust him not to hurt himself.]

[He's more of a crow himself than a wolf or a hound... but there's a quiet planner about him. From the start, he'll be thinking of ways to make them safer in the Rookery.]

I'll try to deserve it, Sansa.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

there's a monster in my closet

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject