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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
in_loveless_memory: (Shut the hell up)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
"Small favors," he muttered, looking away as Soubi sat down to give him that courtesy. He, of course, then immediately shifted to sit next to Soubi to soak in his warmth (and if asked, no other reason, nope). He bowed his head, hating that he felt like a terrible son, a terrible brother, a terrible friend for not wanting to be home but he rather liked not being disappointed with every new day while in the ocean. His tail swished, kicking up some sand as he hugged the robe around his frame and closed his eyes.

"No, not hurt." Not that he could really tell. "Cold, though."
in_loveless_memory: (Yes of course)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
Yep.

He was in hell.

Still, he quickly wrapped himself up in the offered robe, grateful to hide his body as he didn't like anyone seeing any ounce of it and certainly not the marks left behind by his mother. He clicked his tongue as he stared at Maul and then frowned, biting back his retort that was on the tip of his tongue. He wasn't safe when Maul was around him in person.

"I'm not an illusion," he hissed, his ears pressed back against his head. He didn't trust Maul not to suddenly grab him by the throat and start choking... again.

"And I wouldn't waste the mental energy to hallucinate about you, so we're both clearly real and, unfortunately, alive." He moved to stand up, wobbling on newly remade legs. He was so skinny, too skinny, honestly. Every ounce of him was thin.
Edited 2022-10-01 02:03 (UTC)
in_loveless_memory: (You has cookies?)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
"MAKOTO-SENSEI!" Ritsuka hadn't realized his Mismagius had stolen from his sensei, but oh was he so excited to see her. His tail immediately started to wag in happiness, his ears perking. Yuiko rolled her eyes before giving Makoto back her wallet but kept eyeing the candy apple.

Ritsuka bowed low to Makoto, even as his tail kept wagging, belying his excitement.

"You're- You're still here! And-" and you remember me goes unsaid. He smiles, though, happy at seeing his teacher.
in_loveless_memory: (You Make Me Blush)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
He doesn't know my luck, Ritsuka thought as he huddled into the jacket, blushing deep red in shame at the way his body was just... bare for everyone to see. He closed his eyes, grateful for the warmth and the covering.

"Thank you," he mumbled softly, slowly moving to stand. He wobbled on newly remade legs and his ears and tail flicked back and forth, trying to get the sand out of his fur.

"Is this still Julia's nightmare?"
in_loveless_memory: (Woah)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
[Admittedly, Ritsuka made no motion to move, naked as he was, ashamed of how his body looked on top of it. But his ears perked up at the sight of the Jedi Master and he couldn't really hide his tail from flicking out in excitement.]

Obi-Wan-san!
in_loveless_memory: (I'm... not blushing kay?)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
Ritsuka had the strange thought that if he had, in fact, been born a girl, this would have been what he looked like he was pretty sure. He blinked and Yuiko moved to hover above both of them. Maybe that's why the Mismagius had targeted this girl? Because they shared similar features?

"Oh uh, Yuiko. Yuiko," he gestured for the ghost to come back down and she bowed her head in greeting before going invisible... again.

"She's upset she got caught, don't mind her," he offered. "She's still here," he gestured around them, well aware that Yuiko hadn't gone far, able to sense her through their bond.

"She's a ghost pokemon, do you know what pokemon are where you're from?"
saltyadam: (adam-017)

[personal profile] saltyadam 2022-10-01 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
If Adam did any looking at all it was to check for injuries, take note of bones he shouldn't be able to see beneath skin.

He shook his head. "It feels like someone's nightmare, but no. This is the Trench."

Adam offers a steadying hand. Not demanding, just there if the newcomer needs it.

"We have an area for new arrivals nearby. Clothes, food."
in_loveless_memory: (I'm sick)

[personal profile] in_loveless_memory 2022-10-01 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
"So not her world anymore then," but apparently just as bad. Lovely. He'd like to go back to being a squid now, thanks.

"I don't have money..." he offered softly, it should be obvious considering the state he was found in.
melodyofsilence: (the next we're in the night)

[personal profile] melodyofsilence 2022-10-01 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
They do look very similar and were it not for the ears and tail, she could be mistaken as his sister - twin or otherwise. Hotaru does notice the appendages, thinking back to the boy Makoto had told her about. Could this be the same Ritsuka, or merely someone else? There wasn't a guarantee that he'd remember this place, either.

She bowed in return, followed by a wave of her hand to where the now unseen creature hovered. "It's nice to meet you, Yuiko."

There is no hint of a lie in her voice. Maybe the creature just liked shiny things, the way some birds do. Hotaru linked her hands behind her back, rocking on her feet.

"I think there was a video game that might have been called that on my world recently. Though I haven't seen one in real life." The Sailor V game was a lot more popular with her friends. Even outside the Senshi.
ekkoeffect: (038)

[personal profile] ekkoeffect 2022-10-01 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
[There is someone there. He can feel it. It's hard not to have that sense of being watched when you're so used to being on edge, so used to staying on guard. When someone is watching, you notice, even if you don't know the who or the what or the why yet.

But eating the peaches has brought about this kind of peace in him. He's relaxed, at ease, and settling on one of the boardwalk benches now. When he hears that voice, he should be tensing, preparing for a fight--but he doesn't. No, it's just him enjoying his peach and the voice of the past-present-never-again overlapping close by.]


So you admit I'm the pretty one.

[Weirdly teasing in return, not something he would usually say in the now to her. Maybe if he weren't feeling so chill he would be wondering what was in these peaches.]
opheliac: ✖ malagraphic (i run the game)

[personal profile] opheliac 2022-10-01 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
(the sounds of her sucking on her teeth then a click of her tongue; a mocking sound of a clock ticking. should she come out of the shadows? well, she's been watching him for a while and it appears he is unarmed (much like her). although, those hands of his, while not as fat and meaty as vi, still can pack a few.)

You're just barely passin' the average mark. Not a really good spot to be.

('liar' says a voice ringing in her ear. and again along with her feelings, she bats them away. but finally though, jinx steps out of her hiding place with both her hands up -- wiggling her fingers to him. an indication to show she has nothing on her and therefore can't do no harm.)
necrolord: <user name="thebutt"> (i can feel it on my tongue)

[personal profile] necrolord 2022-10-01 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ John Gaius knows how to pick his battles, and so he tries to look relaxed and encouraging as Alecto prepares to crack through the stick and chew it. This is normal. Everything is fine.

He shakes the android's hand, all the same. For the first time in twelve deeply stupid months— a rarity in ten thousand years— he says, like this is a fun fact, instead of a profoundly banal name: ]


John.

[ He tips his head to the woman-shaped thing beside him. ]

And Annabel.
burnyoudown: (110)

[personal profile] burnyoudown 2022-10-01 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Kavinsky couldn't help but smirk a little.]

It's not like I snuck up on you.

[Though he was good at moving quietly and all of that shit. He could go unnoticed when he wanted to. This time was different though; he hadn't even been trying.

Looking back down at the hand he held, he shrugged. He really wasn't planning on needing it or being here long enough to lose any limbs in the first place.]


So what's 'here' like? Someone go around chopping off people's hands a lot?
stayscared: (jc-cap-322)

Mike Enslin | 1408 | Darkblood

[personal profile] stayscared 2022-10-01 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
i. arrival: beach

[he is not himself. he is not anything or anywhere or anyone for one long flash of oblivion until he's a pulsing mass crashing against the shore, pulling himself back and inward only to thrash forward again. it's almost as if he can't quite make a decision.

but soon enough it comes and which part of him makes it is anyone's guess, even his once he's able to form more concrete thoughts.

(this indecision's bugging me)

he arrives with a song stuck in his head. and ...the sense that it's happened before.

(if you don't want me, set me free )

that's a bad feeling - an indescribably nauseating revelation that sends gooseprickles up the squidflesh and then the personflesh

(exactly whom I'm supposed to be)

so that he's sitting naked on the beach singing to himself - the fragmented lyrics coming before the realization of anything else.]


♪--don't you know which clothes even fit me?♪

[that realization doesn't take long to catch up, though.]

Obviously the answer here is none. No clothes. Because I'm naked on a strange beach, so this is a dream and next up is ...what? Realizing I'm late to class?


ii. arrival: boardwalk

[he stumbles past, barefoot and robed, one could not seem more new if they tried, yet there's something old and terrible in the way he clutches the photograph in his hands, pressing it into his chest as if he might absorb it and its meaning and every memory it could contain.

but those are the thoughts of a crazy person, and mike enslin is surely the only sane man left.

or not, as he watches a half humanoid half writhingshadowed mass float by, trailing sorrow and separation like breadcrumbs, as he goes back to the beach again and a again, digging for more eyes in hopes of more photographs. that the right photograph will trigger the right ...memory?

(ending)

his hands are overflowing with glass eyes.]



iii. later: boardwalk

[mercifully, and almost comically, he has eaten from the jar.

stuck his finger in it right in it after being handed the cornucopia, examining it, and choosing what seemed to be the dodgiest piece of all. the mystery jar. the thing that could possibly be poison, and maybe even a one way ticket out of this place if his intuition was right.

it's a classic game of "fuck around and find out", but with food (maybe?), and the only thing that's happened is that his intuition was dead wrong and it had been a surprising bit of curried pumpkin - not quite a sauce but not quite a solid.

and so he sits, using that finger as a utensil, watching the wind whip the white linen ghosts back and forth, a puzzled but interested expression on his face, and an altogether different sort of interest as two children walk hand in hand, their faces painted like foxes.

he hums a sound of quiet disbelief, and takes what might be the first peaceful breath since arriving (or maybe longer if he thinks on that? ...he doesn't.) before he speaks aloud into a small device - not an omni, but a mini recorder - no tape inside.]


In an attempt to curry favor with my unseen, nightmarish hosts I have found that what I'd thought was poison to be a familiar vegetable of no particular malice.

[he stops, sighs, considers some cider.]


iv. a faded memory: the lighthouse

[who leaves a lighthouse without a light?

sounds like a riddle - maybe even one without an answer. and if he had the answer, how would he even know? would he remember?

one thing he does remember? he can swim.

it's in the name. it can't be a lighthouse if there's no light. it's a ...well, he doesn't know what the fuck that makes it, but what it does do is cause a dread to rise up like the crest of a wave - a wave of nausea and a tidal pull of need to see...]


What's out there? What's snuffed out the light, and can it be brought back?

[he's absolutely talking to himself as he wades into the water - is this part of the dream? because he sure is wearing his diving suit. hadn't he written ten haunted (rooms) lighthouses, for fucks sake?

(eleven, this is eleven.

even if you find the light ʇɥɓıl ǝɥʇ puıɟ ɹǝʌǝu ll,noʎ
)


b̸̡̗̟͈̺̺̝͙̀͠û̶̗̭̦̲̹̦̆͜r̵̛̻̹̳̹͛́͌̌̐̈̎n̸̪͊͛͑̔ ̸̨̢͓̲̹̬̳̳̜̤̆̏͘̕m̷̙̱̤͗̔͌̿̑̕é̵͍͕̰̟̘͍͓͚̳̍̀̎̈́̔͑͜ ̸̺̭͈̅̋̐͜ǎ̶̟̳̙̭̜́͌̽͗̈́̂͂͘͝l̴̨̹̹͙̥̩̳͙͆͂͜͝ĭ̸̧̛̺͚͔͓͚͙̘̪̄͘v̸̤͉̂̅̕͘̚ę̴̛͉̲͉̰̩̆͂͆̒̐̂̕


a small man swimming against a dim, dark, resentful sea. mouthfuls of bitter and salt and flowers - an endless churn of arms and legs and eventually he reaches rocky land - leaving bloody footprints as he goes.]



v: wildcard
[if you want something else/specific hmu on [plurk.com profile] eisdamme]
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (06)

iv.

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-10-01 08:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ The huddled shape on the shoreline would be easy to overlook, if she could stop from breathing, but it is the slow, steady heave of lungs that betrays her. The woman waiting at the border of serrated stone fading into black sand stirs herself at the pass of Mike's inquisitive gaze.

She looks him over, head to toe, and her full mouth stitches unhappily thin. For all that her rags are tattered, she draws them around herself like robes of office. ]


Oh- come here.

[ She splays her fingers on the indistinct boundary beside her, an invitation offered in less than earnestness, but more than irony. ]

You swam all that way?
Edited 2022-10-01 08:31 (UTC)
jedies: (A life that seems small)

[personal profile] jedies 2022-10-01 08:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ obi-wan will appear much older than the last time ritsuka saw him. there are definite crow's feet near his eyes and his hair has greyed along the ears. still, he smiles broadly. ]

It's been a long time.
hauntedsavior: (⚡ with their sights in heaven)

2

[personal profile] hauntedsavior 2022-10-01 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[whoever is trudging up the stairs is certainly not anastasia. it's a woman, tall but not very much so, wearing a coat slick with rain and dried with blood. she would usually wear a tricorn, but she's not feeling it so much these days. the wind blows her hair in her face, a mess of dirty white obscuring one sky-blue eye and one thick, heavy eyepatch.]

[she sees the sight before her, and there is something inside her that aches. this is not a person she has seen before, and yet the two souls within her... do they recognize her? can they ever? there is a longing there, an echo with no initial noise, a spiral like lighthouse steps into past and future at once. and here before her, the collision.]

[she strains her ears. she. hears. a. sound.]


Annabel?
slightlytaller: (reading)

1. I'm late but open to a 3 way if you want.

[personal profile] slightlytaller 2022-10-01 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Lord El Melloi II was only here looking for someone important to him. Someone small, with a delicate face that was hidden by a heavy cloak and a scythe that laughed viciously while it dropped scathing commentary when it thought no one was listening. The ordinary man and the statuesque woman in this squidly world barely caught his attention, until the woman directed her commentary at him.

He was by no means short anymore, and it was rare to find himself face height with someone's chest. Sipping delicately at his tea (with sugar and milk, as is proper), he craned his neck to look up at her.

"Your appetite cannot be bought or sold," she has uttered. Well...]


Its true. Any mage worth their salt spends their lifetime building towards someone in their bloodline finding the Root of all knowledge and magic. I find that I don't have that particular luxury.

[He sighed, mulling over his tea. ]

I'd be satisfied with having a day to just drink my tea and dream of the endless sea while knowing that my kids are safe enough to be themselves.
Edited 2022-10-01 14:50 (UTC)
monsterwife: (third)

cw: cannibalism (sort of)

[personal profile] monsterwife 2022-10-01 04:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Alecto puts down the metal hand, so that she might watch the human's performance. She knows the human's name already, of course. She was there when Alecto awoke, but she did not hear Alecto over the noise.

This time, Alecto is silent. The human fashions a gift out of her borrowed blood and body, as if to appease Alecto. The gesture is noble, of course, but it is not Pyrrha who has sinned. Alecto takes the gift anyway, and brings it to her lips, and closes her eyes. This is how meat welcomes meat.

"You are Pyrrha." Alecto takes a bite, and allows the flesh to linger on her tongue. She understands. "He ate you, but not all the way. He loved you. You miss him horribly."

She swallows.

"Do you know who I am?"
martyrofduty: (g1deon!face profile)

[personal profile] martyrofduty 2022-10-01 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)
A handful of words explain most of ten thousand years. The conflicting emotions she'd feel if Gideon were here reflect themselves in a mirror darkly for Alecto. The joy of seeing her mixes with the undercurrent that Trench probably hurts as much to be in as the First House. It's so good for everyone else, she thinks, except for Alecto. John's relief and calm measured through his body (through that... Trench).

With all the call outs, all the other people, Pyrrha knows more than she did. It changes everything and nothing. "You are Alecto," Pyrrha says, "He ate you, but not all the way. You were too much for him to eat. You love him. He loves you. I love you. I've missed you horribly."

She smiles at Alecto, "You are the home I lost, a survivor like me, and my friend." Pyrrha folds herself around Alecto, not to control her or restrict her, but out of love and lack of fear.
stayscared: (jc-cap-239)

[personal profile] stayscared 2022-10-01 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[bent over, hands on his knees and the impossible act of recovering his breath after what was a long stretch of distance and as he raises both his eyes and stance - that shadowed figure pulsing in the dark is only a woman after all.

come here is a request he can also comply with, and there's a bit of a sheepish smile as if to say uh oh someone's in trouble now and that someone is me, but either way - dreaming or wakeful, his feet move in he direction to stop an arm's length away.

her eyes are the discordant colors of a painting he shudders to recall, a sick storm, a muted afterbirth of fire - and it is this last detail that rings a bell - albeit one of alarm, but he only notes this, nodding at the her because she's asked a question, and as he cannot yet see through her he assumes she's possibly real. or maybe this party hadn't truly started yet.]


Yeah. It's a hell of a----

[breath comes in fits and starts - and there's no way he should have been able to swim all that way, and yet. he stares at her as if expecting her to be crooked in her frame - (a frame of bones and not winding sheets but a monochrome of warm, unsettling light) - maybe her unpleasantness is more comforting than comfort might be.

but he doesn't beat feet, doesn't climb back into the water (he did, in fact swim all that way) and though his limbs will pay for this later, he's mostly just out of breath, and trying to make words - and sense out of the scene.]


How did you do it?

[a perfectly normal question. he's unsure of what sort of answer to expect - the mind is capable of all sorts of weird shit. there's no boat tied up that he can see - but his sightline isn't everything - and it isn't even accurate, because it's not the woman that was crooked, it's the rocks, no - the rise of that awful spire. it tightens his chest to look at it, so he'll look at her instead.]
monsterwife: (seventh)

cw: blood, dysfunctional relationships, reference to past violation of bodily autonomy

[personal profile] monsterwife 2022-10-01 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The stolen-eyed human looks. Alecto is seen, in all her monstrousness, and for a moment, it makes her horribly, sickeningly angry. It is not right to be seen like this. Nobody ought to see Alecto like this, because it is now how she should be.

It hurts. Alecto reasons that her pain is the hurt of having a spine. She swallows her scream and lets go of the child's hand. She lies down on her side, back curved, in the pool of blood. The hardness of the floor and the iron in the blood helps, a little. It is almost like a rocky outcropping in a pool saltwater, and the light reflected off the glass is almost like those beautiful glow-worms. She sucks on one finger, tasting the human's tears, drinking in the sick-salty flavor. ]


Lie here. I will tell you. It is quiet here.

[ Outside, the crash of waves. Here, in this pool, Alecto thinks of Anastasia. Those bones kept her company until morning, and Alecto knows she will never speak to Anastasia again. Her eyes make saltwater for the dead, and it mixes with the blood in an acidic hiss. ]

You are scared. That is good. It means you can understand.

[ There is something in those tears, although Alecto is not sure whose. Alecto closes her eyes, and lets out a sigh. ]

I am too.
Edited 2022-10-01 16:41 (UTC)
monsterwife: (second)

[personal profile] monsterwife 2022-10-01 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Alecto lies on her belly, watching John build his castle. She takes a fistful of sand, and tries to build a shape with it. A circle. A world.

Alecto knows what to do with those. She opens her mouth wide, and eats it. ]


You keep yourself away from me. Anastasia lied with me. Not you.

[ She makes her spine resemble the curve in Anastasia's. How nice it would be, Alecto thinks, to not have all this ugly meat. ]

What does she do? [ Alecto thinks about what John told her, when he laid her to rest. ] Does she dream?
entreats: (you see; it's never bad enough)

cw: mention of depression and suicidal ideation in narration

[personal profile] entreats 2022-10-01 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
...

Oh.

Oh.

The girl's jaw drops, her mouth hanging open as she stares at him. If she was surprised to see him a moment ago, then that surprise has only grown stronger with the introduction of this new information - even if Ange immediately knows what it means. If anything, it's more logical than her assuming this is the same Martin she met before. Of course the ocean wouldn't bring the exact same one when there could be an infinite number of Martins out there.

.. most of which.. don't remember her. Or any of the stuff they talked about in the past. Which is a lot, considering he was one of the first people, if not the first person in general, she talked to about her struggles with depression and suicidal ideation.

When the surprise fades a little, Ange's gaze turns downwards, looking at the ground. Though she isn't blushing - not even the usual glittery darkblood blush - something about the girl looks fiercely embarrassed, like it's hanging in the air right around her.

"Oh." .. what does she even say to that? ".. No."

Apparently not, she thinks.

"Sorry. I knew a different you." It's the sort of statement that would be out of place anywhere else. It might be out of place even here, considering Martin must be new. She can't recall having seen him around town at all yet, after all.

But it's too late to retract the fact she knows him and pretend that she just mistook him for someone else, considering her instinctive reaction. All she can do is owe up to the awkward, painful truth.
Edited 2022-10-01 16:50 (UTC)

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