reddosmod: (Default)
Deer Country Mod ([personal profile] reddosmod) wrote in [community profile] countryclub2022-09-25 09:57 pm
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SEPTEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!

SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM
Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

Prompt One
[Image One: Bread Cornucopia filled with fruits and veggies]
[Image Two: Creepy glass eye embedded in sand]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A Lone Lighthouse by night]
[Image Two: Ghost Ship in dilapidated condition]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Wasps, Wasp Nest made from human Mask screaming terror, swirling eddies in wasp Nest]
[Image Two: Horribly mutilated Cenobite in Latex gear with exposed teeth]

STANDARD ARRIVAL
WHEN: First Week of September
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: Creepy Prosthetics buried in the sand


On some level, you are one of the fortunate ones. The storms of August are now a distant memory. It is the waning of the Blood Moon and the tempestuous state of the Beast Moon this year is fading finally while the harvest is being collected. Sleepers arriving find no particular difficulty in actually reaching the shores for the most part, and transformations back into their natural state of being are relatively easy. They are met by happy Trenchies and fellow Sleepers with robes of white and their bags as normal, and motioned towards the waiting tents set up along the

What is strange, however, is that when Sleepers arrive, they may find their eyes drawn to something disturbing amongst the sand. Water washes with the waves and tide, and reveals a body part! They are always prosthetics of some variety, and many are glass eyes that eerily stare at the person. They can be retrieved with some ease, though they're in bad need of cleaning. Perhaps they belong to someone in town? If not, however, asking around will get a suggestion to bring those to Koz's Orphange in Crenshaw. They have a Lost and Found there, and it is the season of finding what and who is lost. If they do, they might catch a glimpse of Koz floating mournfully through the area, and one of the children will gratefully take the item, saying that they will add it to the rest of the Lost and Found, before coming back with a photo in hand. "Here, I found this, and I think it might be yours?" The photo is, indeed, of the giver and someone from their past. Perhaps it is an actual photo taken, or one they cannot remember having been taken. Regardless, it is offered to them in a cheap wooden frame. How it got there, the orphan does not know. It was probably there when they arrived.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK

The Boardwalk is quite the spectacle this time of year, and those who were here the prior year will remember many of the decorations and festivities. Pumpkins have been stacked on spikes lining the Boardwalk with grotesquely realistic carvings of faces decorated on them. Massive white linen has been hung in the air to look like ghosts floating back and forth against the ocean wind.

Delicious smells waft from the Boardwalk as fresh donuts, candied apples, and hot apple cider are sold at every other booth, along with complementary cornucopias given to each new Sleeper made out of bread that has fruits of all varieties but always seems to have a small jar of the favorite fruit, seed, vegetable (or even meat) of the person receiving it. If asked where it is from, the Sleepers shrug and say "The Orphans took up a collection to give a welcoming gift to new arrivals." If what is in the jar is eaten by the person given it, it will help to ease their mind and give them a calm that can last up to a week as they acclimate.

Preparations are in order for this year's Black Parade. An annual celebration, it is promoted among the excited locals as something that people can participate in. Face Painting booths and costumes are available to those who wish them, with the statement by the Trenchies, "We do it to disguise ourselves from roaming spirits and hungry beasts."
A FADED MEMORY
WHEN: Mid October
WHERE: In Swimming distance (Barely) of the Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Ghostly Ship & Lighthouse, Threat of Corruption, Remains of Ghastly Murder and Dismembered Corpse


It is by accident that your eyes chance to look towards the Farther Shores. There, you happen to see a lighthouse, but you know for certain that it cannot be the lighthouse that is normally there and manned by the fishermen. You can't usually see that from this angle. The moment that you see it, a feeling of mounting dread falls upon you, and you realize that there is no light in the lighthouse. Though the compulsion to investigate can be resisted, there is an almost overwhelming urge to go, to investigate, to re-ignite the flame before it is too late!

The question is getting out there. The fishermen, when the lighthouse is mentioned, will make warding gestures and look terrified. All will resolutely refuse to sail out, muttering incomprehensible curses and lashing their boats securely to the shore. There will be no fishing tonight. The lighthouse, from the docks and shores, is out in the water on a rocky outcrop that nobody remembers being there, though any Trenchy asked will pale at the mention. The only way to get out there is to swim. It is a hard, dangerous swim, but the tide is coming in, rather than going out, so the riptide is not pulling down. It can be done, or a raft can be hastily made. When clambering up the stone steps to the lone lighthouse, it is apparent its door is ajar. And within? Horror awaits.

The insides of the tower are caked in viscuous, green blood. The Lighthouse itself is barely standing. It looks as if a thunderous, colossal fist has battered it repeatedly, the building nearly collapsing at every step. It does not actually break apart, but those who ascend the steps find themselves fighting not to slip on old, caked and thick blood that smells of roses. The contact with the blood isn't doing anything good to the person's sanity and hallucinations of the screams of the dying can be heard, along with shrieks of "What is it?" at the top of someone's voice. An increase in corruption is possible here, though not required. The more one contacts the blood, the greater the risk is. In the top of the lighthouse, dismembered, skeletal remains lay in gobs of what may once have been flesh. One of them holds desperately a torch in their hand, and there is a lighter present. One look out into the night will see a great vessel approaching, broken, its sails tattered and ruined. there is little time, and hopefully the lighter works!

The moment the torch lights the lamp in the lighthouse, the ship veers away from a collision course that would have destroyed the lighthouse and likely the flimsy rock outcropping on which it stood. Shades of dead sailors stare in horror at those who man the lighthouse today, the ship sailing away into the night. All are pointing beyond, and if you look over your shoulder, you can barely see a collosal figure in shadow walking into the town beyond, seemingly confused and wailing. Nothing further happens, and when the people in the lighthouse reach shore again, they will find upon turning back that it is gone, as is the outcropping, though a close inspection does see the remains of a shallow of stone there where the island once stood.

Note: The Ghost ship cannot be interacted with. If someone has the ability to reach it, they will pass through it only to realize it is nothing more than a memory in the land. Fragments of rotted wood and broken masonry can be found in the water below, covered in countless barnacles. Nothing within them shows any proof of what once transpired. There is a risk of corruption from blood exposure, though this is very much up to the players if they wish to incorporate it.

No Trenchy will willingly speak of what transpired, though a careful investigation at the Pale Sanctuary may find a tome among the sacred texts associated with Cloverfield. Reading from it, one might find a forgotten marking that the first sighting of Cloverfield, long ago, saw the collapse of the original lighthouse. No Disciple recalls the incident, and none will speak of it.

FRIEND OR FOE
WHEN: Anytime in October
WHERE: At the frindges of the main districts
CONTENT WARNINGS: demonic bugs, Bug Horror, Grotesque death, Self mutilation, Bug Infestation


The first thing that alerts you to the danger is the screams. They are agonizing, gut-wrenching and full of naked horror. When traveling near the edge of any of the districts, particularly the Crenshaw district, it is possible at times to witness a truly horrifying sight. The screams, if investigated, come upon the grisly attack of a horde of not exactly wasps but closer to demonic insects swarming over a person. They shriek, their whole form shrouded by the terrible creatures as they're being stun and the things seem to be extruding some sort of substance to cocoon them while still alive to one of the trees. There is no cry for help, as the person is clearly unaware of who is there, but do you reach out to save them?

If you do not, the scene is horrific and grisly beyond reckoning. The wasps trap the hapless victim against a tree, grafting the extruded paper all over their screaming visage to form a new wasp nest before they ultimately begin crawling inside of them, devouring them from the inside out and implanting their eggs in the new 'home' created for them. It is at this time that the palpable danger may dawn upon you. The infernal bugs have not yet seen you, but they seem to be aware that there is other life around. Do you take this moment to try and beat a hasty retreat, or do you fight it out with the bugs? They can be destroyed, but only by means of abilities and powers that destroy multiples at once, such as great gouts of flame. Hopefully you have a coldblood present! Fleeing them is easier, but can you leave this person to their fate? Still, if instead you observe and take no action, eventually the bugs seem to notice you, and though they swarm near, as long as they are not attacked, they seem to do nothing.

Strange.

If, however, you try to save the victim, a very different scene plays out. The same rules apply to fight the swarm, and if you stop them short of killing their victim, you will see just who it is that you have saved. There, mutilated through self scarification and brutally altered in horrible ways that seem almost fetishistic, is one of the blood crazed zealots. Despite being weakened and badly injured, they lash out at you, their defender. The power that they wield with their blood is incredible, and they demonstrate an ability to wield it that is well documented. The only note is that no Cold-blooded Zealots are present, and so their powers are not represented this time. However, they are drained and though they pose a threat to your life, they can be killed here with a bit of care, can be resisted with great difficulty and certainly be escaped. Either way, there is no true reward for having killed them other than knowing that you have done so. Why are they here? Alone?

It is almost as if they were an advance scout, and the wasps were someone's defense against them, someone's early warning.

CODING
truerevival: (They pass from man to man)

[personal profile] truerevival 2022-10-02 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Exactly as it sounds.

[Because that's the best answer to give someone with a clearly short fuse. Smart choices.]

The time people stay varies. Some are here for months...I know some that have been here for at least a year now. Others mere weeks. I don't think anyone has figured out why that is.
specialtechnique: (pic#15977677)

[personal profile] specialtechnique 2022-10-02 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ah, Reigen would know that unfortunate haircut and familiar expression anywhere - which is fortunate, because otherwise the first thing he'd notice would be the armful of extra limbs, and he might embarrass himself yelping foolishly about it.

Like, he still might. Put a pin in that for now. But instead: oh, thank god, it's Mob— not that Reigen is glad to find one of his employees here in this haunted town!!! That's terrible!! Who would let a middle schooler come here!!!!

He takes a moment to center himself so that his personal panic, his Mob-in-danger panic, and his grossed out feeling about the disembodied limbs(??) don't all spill out at once and says, neutrally:]
Oh, it's Mob. You picked up a lot of those for some reason...

[bud...]

Well, let's find somewhere to put them all.

[he does not in any way offer to hold any of them no sir]
specialtechnique: (pic#15977674)

[personal profile] specialtechnique 2022-10-02 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ooh, a numbered list!!

Oh, it's not important inquiries about his business, huh...]


1. I did put "NOW HIRING"
2. Once you've repeated it enough times, it's easy to remember!!
3. I'm only a newbie when it comes to living in this town. Reigen Arataka has years of experience in handling all kinds of spirits and ghouls! My picture is right there for when you see me around town solving cases.
poorlittlesange: (expressionless)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-02 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
The little man-thing in question whips his head around to stare back--and up--at Alcina, his expression gone wide-eyed and bone white from terror. It is only partly her fault; the rabbiting pulse at his throat is twisting in a snare laid by someone else entirely.

"Ghastly. Utterly distasteful. You would think Moreau had the run of the place. Do stand up, they're unseemly enough without you adding to the display."

And in the pause between one breath and the next, something shutters behind Jin Guangyao's eyes. He lowers his gaze, affixes a modest and neutral half-smile onto his face and gathers himself back up to his feet with all the grace he can muster; he pointedly ignores the sea water and sand on the thin cloth that covers him. The bow he executes is perfect, even with the care he takes to hide his missing right hand from view. His tone when he says, "Ayi, this one humbly begs your pardon," is precise and solicitous without veering too close to obsequiousness. That is what matters.

Still, after a pause, he lifts his gaze a fraction and, if no further reprimands arrive, turns to look back towards the nest of eyes still embedded in the sand. The sight of them turns his stomach, and he swallows, hard. It takes him a moment to find his voice again. "Forgive this one his ignorance, but..." He turns to look back at Alcina, cautious and wide-eyed as a baby deer by design. "...where are we?"
sanguinarydelight: (There you are)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-02 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
She looked him over with the sort of cold scrutiny she reserved for any potential dissidents Miranda would slough off on her to deal with.

Finding nothing that could be immediately criticized, she gave a haughty sniff, as close to satisfied as circumstances permitted.

"Well, you have your wits and manners about you at least," she remarks, and she casts an irritated glare to the general kerfuffle of new arrivals.

"Answers, however, are in short supply. All I've heard so far is nonsense about another reality."

If she had much belief in the afterlife, she'd hazard another guess. But if that were the case, they'd have left her small, sick, and powerless.

"And there is some manner of festival afoot," she scoffs, inclining her head towards the festivities.
centile: (3)

[personal profile] centile 2022-10-02 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[a blink and mob regards the limbs, processing for a moment before glancing back with,] It's important to keep the beaches clean. Animals or fish can choke on litter.

[he's thinking cartoonish images of fish choked out by plastic six-pack rings, not fake limbs. no one is going to choke in these grody things.]

Okay. [another relief, to have a Plan even if it's follow reigen around with a bunch of fake limbs.]
kaientai: (043)

i

[personal profile] kaientai 2022-10-02 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Hmm. [ ryouma sounds like he's considering if he's hungry or not, but only for a second. ] That so?

[ ryouma is just going to squint at reigen for a bit. interesting. from one bullshitter to another, sounds sus. still, he'll bite. ]

There's people wandering all up and down the beach, so I'm sure it's alright. If you're an expert, I bet you could tell me whatever the people around here won't give up, huh? Since you have a good eye for this and all...

[ he says it like he has total confidence in this guy. standing around dripping on the beach right now doesn't diminish this, that's just a thing that happens sometimes. he was naked on this very beach like two minutes ago himself, so who is he to judge? ]
specialtechnique: (Default)

[personal profile] specialtechnique 2022-10-03 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
[......]

Right. [Hm.] Of course! Luckily none of those limbs are packed with dangerous spiritual energy, huh? Because you checked them first, like I know you would.

[Ahem?? Ahem. Well, neither of them have become abruptly cursed, as far as Reigen is aware (which is saying nothing at all, but), so - it's fine! It's probably fine to carry all these pieces around. He reaches over to give Mob an encouraging clap on the shoulder, careful not to jostle the limbs, then turns on his heel towards, ah—

Not the beach. It's time to leave the haunted beach. This is step one of his fully realized plan.]


Come on, maybe someone will give us something to eat for cleaning up. ["us"] This way, Mob.

[Off they go... He's got an eagle eye open for free food and a box to throw prosthetics in. Having tasks to do - and Mob to look after - does help with the various panics, fortunately.]

Don't trip on that robe. We'll find you a uniform, too.
burnyoudown: (060)

[personal profile] burnyoudown 2022-10-03 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
Cool.

[It was completely deadpan because it was absolutely not cool.]

Guess no one knows where we go if we leave either, huh?

[He didn't know if he wanted to go back to how he'd been before. It somehow seemed like an unpleasant option now that he'd been given life again.]
truerevival: (Shrugging off the dust)

[personal profile] truerevival 2022-10-03 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
It's assumed we go back to where ever we come from. Which means, despite the dangers here, there are several that would hope to stay...

[He hadn't counted himself among them until recently. He'd prefer to stay, should he ever be offered the choice.]
poorlittlesange: (Default)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-03 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, you have your wits and manners about you at least," the stranger informs him as though she has reached a verdict about his nature, and his demurral of, "thank you, ayi," rolls off his tongue without a moment's pause.

And while Alcina's attention briefly wanders to the other bodies along the shore, Jin Guangyao takes a swift visual inventory of her peculiarities, beyond those that are most glaringly obvious. (Her size and pallor are impossible to overlook, of course--but those tiny scars marring her skin are fascinating, and he commits their appearance to memory. She's unlikely to be a ghost or fierce corpse, but human? Not anymore, at the very least.) Naturally, when she directs her focus his way again, he is all guilelessness and disorientation once more, and only a small portion of that needs to be feigned.

"Another world," he echoes, and slowly his gaze begins to absorb more details of the world around them. The darkness, the alien nature of the sky, the clothes--

--fuck, he's barely wearing any clothes. He immediately pulls the thin robe he's wearing more securely around himself, hot with humiliation. "A thousand apologies, ayi, I intend you no disrespect--my clothes are--" And he realizes with a frantic, searching look around the shore that they are nowhere to be found. (A watery memory of a journey through these ocean currents returns to him, with recollections of tentacles and ink, and absolutely no expensive silks procured for his enjoyment in Lanling.)
sanguinarydelight: (Elegant)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-03 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
"Gone," she finishes for him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just as everyone's who came here. None of us are dressed to impress."

It's some attempt at reassurance; the little man looked so pitiable, it moved her enough to something approximating sympathy.

"That will change of course," she mutters, more to herself than to Jin, once more scouring the shore. There was some faint hope that if she had survived, then perhaps...

...Perhaps.

Not finding any sign of her daughters, her hawk-like gaze returns to the young man fussing with his robe.

"Do you have any recollection before coming here?"
burnyoudown: (016)

[personal profile] burnyoudown 2022-10-03 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
Great.

[Nope, that wasn't really great, either, but it at least made sense. It was better than getting whisked away to someplace even worse, he guessed.]

So what kind of dangers are there?

[He hadn't managed to get a straight answer about that yet, besides the fact he might end up losing a limb at some point. It wasn't really comforting.]
hearthebell: will credit if found (Fucked-up American boys)

1 with a side of John Gaius, please!

[personal profile] hearthebell 2022-10-03 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
[L's not a strong swimmer. Even if it was a good idea to venture into waters that are known to be laced with corruption, he wouldn't be out in it. His orca whale omen, Lycka, manages it with ease, and indulges L's curious compulsion to investigate by assisting him in collecting prosthetic body parts, snatching them, often, before they even reach the shore.

They can only cover so much area by themselves, though, and it's only so much time before they happen upon a couple. The "ordinary man" is certainly anything but to the sharp-eyed detective, who recognizes him even at a distance and goes immediately on-edge as a result. The woman is wholly unfamiliar, but in an eerie way that he can't actually be as certain about, called further into question by her clear association with John.

He's never seen Alecto, after all, at least not from this side of those golden eyes. Lycka picks up on his uneasiness, shrinking and returning to circle his wrist so that she isn't far from her sleeper's shallow breath and racing heart.

Intuition is never wrong, only interpretation. So... what is there to interpret, here? He thinks, for a moment, that it could just be the result of approaching a man who dismantled him on a molecular level, but if so, wouldn't he have locked up on the beach when that man's omen was actively attacking him?

No, it's more than that. He thinks back to the dinner that he saw through Augustine's eyes when Mercymorn had tried to tear that marketplace book from his hands. The people around the table, he would all recognize; this woman wasn't present. She may be one of the beauties of times bygone, or perhaps...

He really should resolve, in his dark cloak and with his small basket of prosthetics, to keep a wary distance. Nothing great can come of this, but then she moves, and that terrible, visceral cracking would probably turn a weaker stomach than L's to the point of violently emptying.

He supposes he's repulsed. He supposes he still can't name what feels like they've shared something, because, oh, haven't they? And he sees where he misstepped, now that he sees her in the flesh; she's mad, she must be, and he approached the study of her place in John's life with method and meticulousness. Would it have gone on longer if he'd just known that he needed to make his incisors lose a match to something sharp, hard and metal?

The omen at his wrist naggingly tugs him back. She would rather he keep his hand, rather that the events of the past aren't dredged up in a way that will only hurt her sleeper, threaten the stalemate, rattle something irrevocably out of place.

Stagnancy is so much worse than all of those things, to the detective. It's his fatal folly. He swallows, and approaches.]


Congratulations might be in order, but I've chosen to assume nothing at the moment.
Edited 2022-10-03 02:16 (UTC)
the_obedient_servant: (nOVq3mQ)

[personal profile] the_obedient_servant 2022-10-03 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
[What a strange girl.]

Then I'll fight for us, should the need arise, and you can make sure I don't get hurt. Do we have a deal?

[It's teamwork. They drop into the water with a splash.]
specialtechnique: (pic#15977679)

[personal profile] specialtechnique 2022-10-03 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
[only amateurs go around with their whole sussy out

Or: Reigen nearly falters at "if you're an expert" for how much heavy lifting that if is doing, but he recovers with a laboriously long hand gesture at the beach, the people nearby, and the ocean in turn. Some more than once.]


Ah, but that's why we should leave this area as soon as possible! If you found out what someone at my level can see out there, you would only be tempted to go out to sea— That's not a situation I can put any citizen in, in good conscience. Try to see the position I'm in.

[He pops his not-gesturing hand on his hip and tilts jauntily, giving the distant lighthouse a few emphatic jabs with his Gesturing Thumb.]

Some things really are better left up to someone else. You don't have to worry about a thing.
gotaknife: by <user name=everchased site="tumblr"> (23)

[personal profile] gotaknife 2022-10-03 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
Oh - Ohh, right. The lighthouse. Martin supposes she has a point, it's probably not a great time to be talking about this, but if he's not him - if he's not the right him, he'd much rather know about it now than later.

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. I mean, not - not in any great detail, but yeah. I've heard about the concept?" He's not sure that's any more comforting than believing she is someone that he knew before and simply, for one reason or another, has forgotten. That would still be horribly awkward, of course, but still a bit easier to take than the potential for being just one of an infinite number of Martins from an infinite number of universes, or something.

"That's - that's actually a real thing, huh? Are - are you sure?"
hacktivated: + ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴠᴇ (ᴛʜᴇ face of a friend)

[personal profile] hacktivated 2022-10-03 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ Penny feels bad about it, but when Alecto says, I am not human either, Penny's next immediate thought is, I thought so. There's just a particular kind of weirdness non-humans tend to have, which Penny is well aware of given her own non-human weirdness.

Still, even Penny's never grabbed a caramel apple by the apple part, then immediately accepted a handshake with her now incredibly sticky hand. Penny blinks again, then stares down at her (probably now ruined) silk glove for a moment. She's not about to let it ruin their conversation, though!
]

John and Annabel! I arrived here more than six months ago, so it you're ever in need of assistance please do not hesitate to ask me!

[ And of course, since Annabel actually has already asked: ]

Androids are autonomous humanoid machines! [ ... Though if Alecto doesn't know what an android is, she might not even know what a machine is. So Penny adds: ] You can think of me as a person who was built instead of born.
poorlittlesange: (side-eye)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-03 03:35 am (UTC)(link)
That he is in a state of undress comparable to everyone else on the beach is immaterial; the standard against which he has been measured (and found wanting) has always stood higher than even the most mediocre of his legitimate relatives or their peers. It takes conscious effort for him to remind himself that they are not here. More than that, most of them are dead.

At her inquiry, he nods once and tries to summon up his signature neutral smile again, with limited success. (Maybe once he finds a set of robes with actual pants.) "I recall--some things," he hedges, his brow dipped into a small furrow, "but not all." A temple, a golden statue, an empty coffin. A closed fist. A sword through his heart. He remembers enough.

He shutters those thoughts away behind opaque glass in his mind. To Alcina, he dips his head respectfully and lowers his eyes. "This lowly one begs your forgiveness for his poor manners. I am called Jin Guangyao." After only a brief pause to adjust his smile, he adds, "Ayi is self-assured and brave in the face of such strange circumstances as these. I worry I am inflicting great offence upon you, for I do not know how to address you."
centile: (2)

[personal profile] centile 2022-10-03 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ah, it's so nice his master has faith in him, the smallest of smiles at the shoulder clap. to be perfectly honest he probably would have picked them up anyway if they were full of evil energy because that's just especially rancid litter that needs to be handled before an animal choked on it, but reigen gets a nod. this is probably fine.

he does point towards the lighthouse- or off a little, because it's the ghost ship really.]
No. Not like there.

[a prosthetic arm falls. mob blinks and struggles to pick it up before following after. he nods to what reigen says, glancing around more as he does so. meter's at a solid 40%, curbed with having reigen there.

he wonders if they need to eat differently because they're squids.

after a long, quiet moment of thought he asks,]
Master, what are we? I don't feel different, but I know I am now.
kaientai: (005)

ii

[personal profile] kaientai 2022-10-03 10:51 am (UTC)(link)
Ryouma has his own ways of getting over there — the knowledge of which is slowly returning to him — but it's the sort of thing where he figures going alone is at best kinda boring. At worst? Probably a little dangerous, but that's never stopped him.

As a nondescript guy hanging out on the docks watching the sailors while eating an apple, he's easy to overlook. He has a lot of questions, mostly because he's nosy and the absolute refusal of the sailors to simply cross the channel is noteworthy; Ryouma hadn't started asking around yet, he'd been here for the ships. So thanks for doing all that work for him. Curious, he decides to follow, which is when he arrives to see Jin Guangyao with a foot on his sword.

"Something wrong with it?"

People don't fly on swords where he's from.
kaientai: (001)

ii

[personal profile] kaientai 2022-10-03 11:45 am (UTC)(link)
Hehe, of course! No matter where it is, life finds a way. Humanity in particular is real good at that, I think.

[ ryouma would have very good reasons to have developed a much diminished appreciation for humanity over time, but instead he seems genuinely proud. the surprisingly decent fruit in this bloody hellscape sort of sweetens the deal too, though. ]

I think you can probably survive anything if you have something good to fight for.

[ he offers his bread cornucopia, which has had some of its fruit eaten already, but there's still plenty of other kinds left — including peaches! ]

They're handing these out for free, by the way. I wonder if you'll get anything different in yours...

[ food gacha? ]
poorlittlesange: (you think you're really pretty)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-03 12:31 pm (UTC)(link)
He looks up sharply at Ryouma's voice and pulls his foot back from the blade, as if having this particular act--hesitation, unvarnished self-doubt, uncertainty--witnessed by anyone at all is intolerable. The sword itself leaps up from the docks and back into Jin Guangyao's left hand, but he smoothly sheathes it rather than holding it at the ready. Then he smiles, a perfectly modest and inoffensive non-expression. "No, gongzi," he replies courteously, "the shortcoming is my own for not knowing whether the limited strength of my spiritual power is enough to sustain the journey."

He curves his arms into a circle and sketches a slight bow. "I am called Jin Guangyao. Gongzi, are you also curious about the lighthouse?" When he straightens to consider Ryouma again, he has carefully adopted an expression of polite curiosity.
kaientai: (119)

that first line ended me btw

[personal profile] kaientai 2022-10-03 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Right, right. Valid points...

[ it's hard to tell if ryouma is serious or just humouring him. ]

Good thing I'm heading out there anyway, so that basically absolves you of any blame if something happens!

[ he says this with the full confidence of a man who doesn't believe in self-preservation. why should you if you can die at any time anyway? don't be the guy who goes down in history as having died on the toilet. or, less unfortunate but still lame, standing around twiddling your thumbs. ]

How's that work anyway? You come in and scare the ghosts away? I wanna see the lighthouse and I dunno why, but I kinda want to see if there's any ships out there even more...

[ if there is a force greater than a weird, supernatural attraction, it would probably be this. nothing much comes between ryouma and his niche interests. ]
necrolord: <user name="thebutt"> (i can feel it on my tongue)

[personal profile] necrolord 2022-10-03 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ John, for his part, looks awkward the moment he sees Ianthe. He clears his throat; he shuffles; he edges just a little bit between Alecto and the young Lyctor, with the air of a man who fears he might bear witness to a fistfight. ]

Something like that.

[ He smiles, but it does not reach his worried eyes. Still: the overall change in him is easy to see. He looks awake and alert, bright with attention in a way he never has. A fug of depression has lifted. He is finally, for the first time in millennia, dialed in. He seems to have rediscovered the concept of giving a shit. ]

Ianthe, this is A.L. May she live up to the hype. Annabel, this is one of my new kids.

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