reddosmod: (Default)
Deer Country Mod ([personal profile] reddosmod) wrote in [community profile] countryclub2022-09-25 09:57 pm
Entry tags:

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
necrolord: <user name="thebutt"> (drawing lines in the sand)

[personal profile] necrolord 2022-10-10 05:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ John, who can read the edge in her, fills in something more useful than a name: ]

We got in a bit of an argument, before you came... but I think we've sorted it out now.

[ His smile to Lazarus is fixed, tense with the question of it: haven't we, it says. She's up and walking, which unsettles the terms of their deal. Lazarus swore not to unearth her tomb; he did not swear not to dig at this open wound, hook claws into this weak spot, within the fresh context of a living body at his side.

Still. She is sacred; he won't bear disrespect; he will wear his love of her open and raw, and they won't have to come to blows about it. It'd be nice to keep the peace. ]


You're collecting hands now? [ But he can still be a dick in little, petty ways, if it's funny. ]
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (06)

cw: blood, dysfunctional relationships, discussion of major violation of bodily autonomy

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-10-10 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The pain of Alecto's nails is not a good thing, because she is right, and there are none of them left. It pins Mercymorn to her, to the staggering words that Alecto pries out like teeth to spit gleaming and bloody on the floor.

There was a world, once. It was the First. It was the world where John was born, and first knew them all, and the world he sifted their ashes from to make them anew in his mercy and his love. All else is sacred, and sacred is the word for the things that Mercy hated for any of them to ask of God, for how the asking hurt him so, and hated more for any of them to ask of Alecto, for how her answering hurt him worse.

She had been so young when she decided the past did not matter. She had no past of her own. By the time she began to wonder, centuries had accrued to the questions, calcified them beyond utterance.

Mercy has already hurt John as terribly as she could hurt him. The sacred swallows her like a great throat. The acid of mystery etches her own voice, turns it slurred and tender. ]


You never did know anything about how to stop.

[ She wonders if Alecto can feel it yet, the strands unfolding. The kindled fellow-feeling, at last, between them. I still love him. It hurts. The last prayer of broken faith that does not die, but only goes on and on. ]

The First. [ Her hand grips back as tightly as Alecto's grips hers, clasped at the precipice edge. ] That was the world. The oceans rose and the sky burned.

[ She makes a noise. It's a terrible, staved in noise, wet and retching, worse than the awful sounds she made with Alecto's hand plunged into her chest. She can barely see the face before her for the welter of her tears, except for yellow, yellow bright as dandelions and the sun. ]

Did she know you? [ It's there - it's there - the shape of it, right in front of her - ] The person who came before me?
abornfighter: (uncomfortable)

[personal profile] abornfighter 2022-10-11 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
Agreed.

[She takes just a moment to look out the window at the shores below, and sees a ship just turning away from the rocks.]

Oh wow, we were right on time there.

[The ship fades, as if it was never truly there, but there's an undeniable relief nonetheless.]

...to save the ghost ship or something. I kind of hate that it doesn't sound crazy to say that, here.

[She leads the way with the torch in hand.]

Since you remember being here, did you have a place in mind where you want to live?
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (08)

cw: body horror

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-10-11 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Magic," Woe supplies, and then she demonstrates.

The flick of her wrist is a delicate gesture, but what flies from it is anything but delicate. An amorphous net of thanergy-girded cartilage falls over Abathur with directed purpose, swaddling him as neatly as a babe.

"It's a property of certain organisms here...whether evolved or instilled, I've yet to determine. Does being denied the impulse cause you distress, and if so, what is the nature of that distress?"
iaiafhtagn: (Default)

[personal profile] iaiafhtagn 2022-10-11 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
Have you just arrived then?
iaiafhtagn: (Happy pancakes)

[personal profile] iaiafhtagn 2022-10-11 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
She has absolutely heard that numerous times, and it gets a smile from her! All sorts of giddiness fills her at hearing it.

"I am!"

She's all smiles as she states it. Then he is the one she knew! That takes a huge load off her shoulders, he is the Big, bushy bearded, Mr. Alex she knows! Or knows of, at the very least. Given that he doesn't immediately recognize her means that he's either from a different point in time, never noticed her, or is more familiar with her... other, more witchy part. No matter, Abigail can deal with it regardless.

"Then... you are Mr. Alex, one of Master's friends."
miyagimagic: (034)

[personal profile] miyagimagic 2022-10-11 12:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Daniel grits his teeth. That's the exact problem, isn't it? The other always seems to get away with everything, and sometimes it's like no one sees it but Daniel himself.

He doesn't want this place to be like that too. Not again.

But in the face of having very little ammo there, the only thing he can metaphorically dig his foot into is-- ]


What, is there suddenly something wrong between the two of you? [ They had seemed fine at the tournament, Daniel thinks. From what he could see, anyway. ] Got trouble in paradise?

[ Not that Daniel has even the tiniest inch of an idea that he's a little closer to reality with that 'trouble in paradise' thing than he might imagine. ]
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (05)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-10-11 08:49 pm (UTC)(link)
We shall see about that.

[ But his biddability mollifies her somewhat. It’s one of the few responses to great shocks she doesn’t find unbearably melodramatic, and there’s a faint, selfish relief in her slit-eyed glance back at him, like someone who has found a shortcut to an errand imposed on them.

That doesn’t last overlong. Up they climb the rocky slope to the door that hangs drunkenly on a cracked frame, the devastation some terrible force inflicted on the structure (tower) even worse up close. It looks like it’s been bombed and worse, breached by a massive body, and Woe recalls the eye-bleeding things that she washed ashore with not so long ago with an involuntary shudder.

Her hand does not hesitate on the door. She never hesitates on the threshold. It swings open, and she makes an unhappy, rippling sound, a kind of mrrp! more likely from a feline than a human being, at the wash of rose-scented blood coating the destroyed interior. ]


Eueck. [ She enunciates, quite clearly. ] Bleck! What a mess! You should be glad of those shoes - don’t touch anything with bare skin, for your own sake.

[ She promptly violates her own advice by flattening her palm in the blood on the wall, face squinching up in concentration. ]

Old blood, at least.
gotaknife: by <user name=everchased site="tumblr"> (27)

[personal profile] gotaknife 2022-10-11 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
The silence that hangs between them feels like it drags on forever, and he flushes with embarrassment, suddenly feeling wrongfooted. He's probably said the wrong thing. Maybe being a squid isn't so weird when it happens to everyone. For all he knows, maybe she likes being a squid.

He rubs at the back of his neck, and looks away while she avoids his gaze. "I, uh. I mean. It might be awkward?" This whole everything is awkward. "But maybe not too awkward? Unless - unless, you think it would be?"
the_obedient_servant: (9COh2FM)

[personal profile] the_obedient_servant 2022-10-11 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
["I would know you for that," she says. And Chara's breath hitches. So often, others have told them that they can stop. They want them to be the child, not the demon, or they want them to be both, but tame.

Chara lives in the knowledge that they are a detestable disgusting creature, and any love they have acquired has been stolen unjustly with lies and trickery. They are used to ignoring the ache of loneliness within their broken soul, they ignored it when Mother Superior held their life in her hands and squeezed it dry, forced confession after confession out of them only for her to forgive it all without a word.

She understands this need for violence, doesn't she. She doesn't forgive, she doesn't forget. She shows no mercy. It's hard to describe how it feels, watching it on another person, but they want nothing more than to guide her to her own vengeance.

Their voice is quiet as they speak.]


...Never forgive. Never forget. No mercy.

Do you promise?

["You would not be alone."]
necroprince: (tumblr_9114123538d67be64075589da074ffd1_)

[personal profile] necroprince 2022-10-11 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
What makes you so sure that the latter is the better option? Didn't you have things to do back home, or was your life truly that utterly boring?

[Nevermind that apparently she'll just turn into a squid again, she can't accept that.]

What if those answers you're looking for just trap you further?
necroprince: (6)

[personal profile] necroprince 2022-10-11 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I sure hope your eyes aren't on your balls. That'd be horribly inconvenient to see with.

[But she catches it instead, smiling.]

I'll put it to good use.
necroprince: (tumblr_9114123538d67be64075589da074ffd1_)

[personal profile] necroprince 2022-10-11 11:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[She huffs. They're doing this, then. She stares carefully at the pitiful wreck of a woman ironically named Mercy and yet offered absolutely none when it counted most. She assumes Patience's grief is a lie, but Ianthe thinks that for everything he said about her, everything he felt about her, Patience was the only one in the universe left who gave a fuck that she was dead. John grieved, in the self indulgent way he grieved anything, and that was proof enough that she never mattered.

She won't reveal her former teacher's secret. Call it a twisted sense of loyalty. And she won't laugh, or sneer, or defend herself. She only cocks her head, and wears a patient smile.]


Was I supposed to? I'm only an infant, aren't I? What could I have done? [She taps her skeletal hand against her chin.]

But no, for your information, I left him to die. And I'd do it again, a thousand times over.
slayerskiss: (so i will burn this movie theatre down)

[personal profile] slayerskiss 2022-10-12 12:36 am (UTC)(link)
The food they offer to welcome new Sleepers is always some of the best. [Although, it can be pretty dangerous too, when it wants to be. She puts her hands in her pockets and shrugs.] It's not old news, but you get used to the options switching up.

When I arrived in the dead of winter it was a whole lot of hot chocolate and croissants.
gotaknife: by <user name=everchased site="tumblr"> (67)

[personal profile] gotaknife 2022-10-12 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a relief that Terry doesn't just want to leave him to climb the stairs alone. Martin is fairly sure they'll do better together than if he tried to go off on his own.]

That - that sounds like good advice. Thanks.

[Straight up, straight down. He's got this.]

I'm Martin - Blackwood. Soooo. Where are you from, Terry?

[A little small talk to help distract them from the horror of the blood soaked lighthouse. That's probably helpful, right?]
faceblocks: (about to parkour)

[personal profile] faceblocks 2022-10-12 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Wanna hear a real shocker? These days I'm more about making order than shaking it up. But I'm still shaking it up a little.

[maybe it's a shocker, maybe it isn't.]

Yeah, the blood magic, though? It's a real ...party.

Okay, first stop on the train is ...well, you'll see. I already know you can keep up.

[a loaded pause before she's headed up the side of the building - partially because yes, she wants to show him a place that he possibly has seen already (she doesn't discount that) but also to burn off the nervous energy she's feeling - running rooftops is a meditation of its own - a think-free zone while she's moving. but before she heads toward willful machine, she looks down once - just to make sure he's good to go.]
specialtechnique: (reigen (79))

[personal profile] specialtechnique 2022-10-12 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
[oh thank god he's normal]

Just 'fine'? You'll get a good meal! I'm not stingy!

[He is, but now it's a thing, so he'll be less stingy just once.]

Let's see some results, first. Where around here is there a lot of spiritual activity, huh?
disbanding: (Ea8O9kQ)

[personal profile] disbanding 2022-10-12 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
[He literally brought up the eye-balls, but still: oh my god.]

You don't need to worry about any of my... parts. I can see just fine.

[Technically this doesn't answer if he has extra ball eyes, but never mind--]

You're new here.
strikefirster: (pic#15454562)

[personal profile] strikefirster 2022-10-12 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Johnny feels the foot hit his chest and he let's out a grunt. This had not went the way he had planned at all. He sucks in breath and tries to spit at Terry. It just sort of hits his leg instead of getting anywhere near someplace insulting.

Except then Terry brings up Paul and he feels his blood start to boil. He doesn't quite have the focus to try and pull himself up. Not that he could over power Terry in his current situation.

But he does grit his teeth.]


Don't you fucking talk about him. He's fucking better than the both of us combined.

All of my students are.

[Except maybe for Penis Breath. But he wasn't here.]
towards_okeanos: (bwahaha)

[personal profile] towards_okeanos 2022-10-12 05:08 pm (UTC)(link)
The happiness in her voice is utterly delightful. It makes Iskandar feel bad he could not recall her from his time in Chaldea. Still, it would hardly make sense if nothing changed with his departure. Which makes him wonder if she knows more about the course of their campaign than he does, having been forced to leave so abruptly.

"Indeed I am. Since, I assume, you are one as well, do tell, how are they faring? Did they succeed in their mission? It had been very much underway the moment I have been pulled from Chaldea."
wingstosee: (ohwow)

1; without john since i probably can't keep this canon!

[personal profile] wingstosee 2022-10-12 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ "statuesque" is one way to put it. "incredible" is another. "kind of intimidating" is yet another. venus has been stealing glances since he got in line - a few moments of uninterrupted stare, a bit longer staring ashamedly at the ground, and then the cycle repeats all over again.

she's... beautiful? he thinks. a lot of girls are beautiful, even the ones that aren't really pretty. he knows that much. this woman is beautiful in the way where she isn't pretty. or maybe she's pretty in the way where she isn't beautiful. like a doll, or a corpse at a funeral.

there's a light at the corner of his eyes. maybe, if he just...

barbie. that's it! she's beautiful the way barbie is beautiful, way too tall and a bit stretched out and kind of freaky but still pretty nonetheless. he thinks for a moment of playing with one of his mother's old barbies. then he thinks of the way his father yelled when he came home, and he stops thinking. tries to. it's hard, with the way the light keeps distracting him-

she's staring at him. for a moment, he just stares back up at her - eyes wide, like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. and then, after looking over one shoulder to make sure she's talking to him, he clears his throat.
]

Um. [ it's a weak start. then again, he's not sure how else to respond to that accusation. ] I am a little hungry, though? I mean, not that hungry, but. Kind of? Hungry?
wingstosee: (dismay)

venus | we know the devil | warmblood

[personal profile] wingstosee 2022-10-13 12:46 am (UTC)(link)
tinker, t[a]ilor
[standard arrival]
[ a young man - eighteen, if barely - sits on the boardwalk, prosthetic arm in hand. it's mechanical, though hardly advanced, a simple system of gears and pulleys configured for specific gestures. he's taken it apart, down to its inner workings; he takes each gear out, one by one, gently cleaning it on the arrival robe he's been given before slotting them back in.

if approached, he doesn't notice. if spoken to, he starts, nearly dropping the arm before delivering a stumbling apology:
]

Sorry! I'm! Sorry?!

[ he's not even sure what he's sorry about. but he's pretty confidently sorry nonetheless. ]

[b]ugs all over the shop
[friend or foe] CW: blood, religious mention
[ venus brings the light.

it's not the most impressive of powers. his skill with a radio's always been... well, his skill with a radio's alright enough, it's actually fighting that's the problem. he doesn't like it. tries to avoid it at all costs. and if it were just him that was being targeted, he could leave it at that - get beaten to hell and back and grin and bear it like always.

the problem is that it's someone else. so even though he knows this might do nothing - god's not answering, after all, that special frequency brings nothing but empty static - he grits his teeth, holds the receiver in hand, and stabs. his radio whines, wriggles, throbs; a pillar of light erupts from the tip, searing and golden and hot. he murmurs scriptures under his breath, feverishly- our father who art in heaven, and as i walk through the shadow of death, and hear not the devil, for he is but shadow cast by god's light-.

and when the light fades, and he opens his eyes, the wasps are gone - reduced to ash before him. a hook flies by his cheek, cutting just deep enough to bleed; he stumbles, crying out as he reaches up to cover it. what is this? what's happening? he turns towards the now-freed victim-

and freezes as another hook shoots towards him.

this is too much. this is something for the real scouts - the real heroes. someone like him never had any place being out here to begin with.
]

just [c]hecking in
[network]
hey! um. this is venus
i guess that probably doesn't mean much to most of you but. that's just who i am, so. you know. haha.
uhhhhh
this is probably going to sound kind of crazy? and maybe a little heretical. idk i hope it doesn't at least

is anyone else... having trouble getting in touch with God?
like. not like our pastor used to talk about, getting lost in sin and stuff like that.
like literally unable to hear Him speak.
that's not just me, right?
because i double checked my radio and even though some of it got wet it's dried out and the saline content shouldn't have messed with the circuit THAT much
and i thought it might be the crystal, but i checked, it should still be getting enough reach, so

sorry. just ignore all that it's probably not relevant.
all i need to know is...
is God listening?

He's still here, right?

wild car[d]
[ooc information]
[ ooc: first things first, venus is a trans girl by the end of canon but has not reached that point in her development yet! as such, i'll be using he/him in-character until she comes to her epiphany. second, we know the devil is a weird and esoteric canon, so if you ever have any question about what something means don't hesitate to let me know! finally, as always, i'm open for customized starters if you want one. just reach out to me at [plurk.com profile] beelzebae and i'm happy to help out!! ]
Edited 2022-10-13 00:49 (UTC)
manyone: (013 »)

b

[personal profile] manyone 2022-10-13 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Beatrice is not someone who spends a lot of time fighting her own battles. Not directly, anyway. She prefers to have her Furniture do that, her summoned minions.

Unfortunately, she's severely lacking in them here, except for the snappily dressed butler-goats, and she thinks of them as next to useless when it comes to actual fighting--strong, excellent brute force, but not good for this sort of thing. No, she misses her Stakes for this sort of thing.

All the same, she's caught up in it and dressed in a frilly, fancy gown she darts forward. She's only in appearance a year or two older than Venus. In one hand, she holds a delicate pipe while the other weaves a spell, throwing up a shield of golden light that caroms the oncoming hook away from the boy and from herself.

This is a duel of Magi and that she is more comfortable with. ]


You call that magic? It's pitiful! KIHIHIHIHIHI!

[ She directs that to the bloodied zealot and laughs, her smile stretching wider and wider and wider. ]
hauntedsavior: (⚡ caverns shake like thunderstorms)

a

[personal profile] hauntedsavior 2022-10-13 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
[local android anna amarande strolls up behind this person as quietly as she can, but she knows that her footsteps carry weight to them. and she knows that she's not as careful with her steps when she's this close to the water anymore, either, so she's certain she can be heard on the approach. but still, the person she's about to strike up a conversation with seems good with their hands, so they at least don't feel awkward.]

Hey. —hey, you didn't do anything wrong, it's cool. Just noticed your clothes and the stuff you're working with here. You look like you're freshly de-squidded. Need any help finding your way around?
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (Default)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-10-13 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ Mercy assumes Augustine's grief to have been one of the realest and most true things left in the universe, and that it would have been for not having the opportunity to close his hands around her throat himself cheapens nothing. They had been meant to die together, as they had always followed in bitter lockstep in life, and she cannot think of herself splattered on his infuriatingly wing tipped shoes without feeling.

But she would rather be simpered at by this tragic child than share any of that with her. In a way, she thinks the girl may even begin to understand that. The privacy of one's own wounds to lick. So perhaps she deserves a reward, after all. ]


Good. I was lying. He would have thought you very stupid to try to intercede for him, and he was so taken with your cleverness. He never missed a chance to rub it in my face.

[ If that passes for reward. ]

Page 21 of 37