hasapoint: a steady level gaze (I cannot strive nor have I heart for str)
Need (Sister Lashan) ([personal profile] hasapoint) wrote in [community profile] thecrossinglogs2024-12-20 03:54 pm

and if you fall

WHO: Need and: the first prompt and general wildcard interaction is OTA. The second prompt is closed to her and Allynbee, Bakugo, and Yusuke. It doesn't have to be a megathread but if you want one that's cool.
WHAT: First prompt: Need meanders around and makes a weapon that throws rocks good and tests it on a wall. Second prompt: returning to the River to see what's there to be found. I'm happy with either prose or brackets!
WHERE: Cavern of course! First prompt is in the city or wherever within the lantern's light you'd like your character encountering Need. Second prompt is overlooking the River.
WHEN: Between the intro log and the first Crossing. I'm leaning after the Ferryman's announcement but if you want a thread set before then I'm game.
WARNINGS Not sure. General discussion of the lethality of slung stones is a possibility, and the unpleasantness of being submerged in the River.


check the cupboard for your daddy's gun
Need is quite tall, heavyset, and the oldest-looking person present, with a seamed and scarred face and a wary, watchful aspect. Having spent a long afterlife in service, she feels at loose ends here and is often in motion, walking slow circuits and checking to see if anything has changed, or unpicking bits of fabric so she can find uses for it as string.

One of the first things she does is put together a sling. It doesn't look like much, just a length of braided twine. She takes it up into the higher reaches of the subterranean city to try and test it, with a series of rounded stones for ammunition. The crack of the sling, or of the stone hitting, carries in the quiet as she refines her aim.

"Fired clay bullets are better," she says conversationally, not looking directly at whoever she's speaking to. Crack! Need pulls the now-trailing end of the sling up, wrapping it loosely around her fingers. "Cast lead is best. But if I'm wishing for things that aren't here, first I want a sword."

it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
It's hard to get much out of the Ferryman. Knowing how often she's been cryptic to the living, Need has set her jaw and not tried to wheedle out an answer. The little that she has picked up has been the intimation that she can glean something by returning to the River.

Maybe the other three have also spoken to them, or followed someone headed this way, or meandered here on their own. Regardless, Need looks out across the broad expanse of dark water and exhales slowly.

"It's better than the ocean," she complains, a 'but' clear in her tone.
solitarynote: (Check in)

Check the Cupboard! (Somehow I missed this!)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-02 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Sunny could hear the crack of the sling and the splintering of rocks from his room’s window (it wasn’t really his room - just one he had decided to stay in for now. It gave him some measure of not feeling like something would come for him from random angles). And not that he knew what the source of the noise was, just that it caused him to jolt every time he heard it.

But… it didn’t sound like it was getting closer, and upon looking out the window and confirming someone wasn’t coming for him, Sunny… somehow found it in himself to leave the room and search out the source.

New Quest? What’s That Sound?!

Thankfully it wasn’t too far from the building, though the slight incline of the hill had his limbs shaking in exertion. The teen hid partly behind a slab of stone, peeking out from behind it, and noticing Need’s practice.

He was stuck between being frightened and thinking Need looked like a really brave pirate leader (for whatever reason).

When she somehow addressed him without even turning around, Sunny’s eye widened and he froze, very much a deer in headlights.
solitarynote: (Check in)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-06 12:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Luckily for Need, Sunny wasn’t really in any shape to ambush anyone - especially someone with weapons. He knew better than that. And… not that he would choose to ambush her anyway. Sunny might enjoy fictional battles in his dreams, but those were different.

The teen listened as she continued talking, leaning a bit further out from behind the rock. It… relaxed him somewhat, that her voice was such a strong but calming note, that she hadn’t turned her gaze on him, yet… she knew he was there. (Either that, or she was talking to herself. Sunny didn’t judge.)

At the mention of a knife… he perked up. Gaze alighting with recognition, hand closing around empty air. A knife… he knew that. Knew his way around one in his dreams (and in reality, though not quite as well). The thought made his heartbeat pound, his nerves set on end… such a contradicting thing, to miss it and yet not want to feel his grasp around the object again.

As he (unknowingly) took another step towards need, his shoe hit some of the spare rocks (smaller ones, not good for throwing), scattering them.
solitarynote: (Default)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-07 12:42 pm (UTC)(link)
He notes that in her voice - that inner layer that suggests there’s something more than just surface level words. He chances a step or two closer, gaze on the makeshift sling.

An opinion on weapons…? That was such a nuanced topic for Sunny, in more ways than one. Still, he took as deep a breath as he could, rallying his out of practice vocal cords.

“K-knives… are s-sharp…” That… was true, but also caused a flush of embarrassment to redden the tips of his ears. Of course knives were (unless they were dull, but they still made better weapons than most other blunt objects).
solitarynote: (Surprise)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-07 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Where most people would have rushed along with the conversation, the woman in front of him pauses, making sure he’s said his piece. Sunny… appreciated that. The flow of conversation - that back and forth canter that others seemed so tuned into - was an art that had always alluded him.

Something in the way his gaze widens as he listens to her hints at understanding. Confirmed by a few nods, more sure than his past hesitance. While Sunny himself didn’t throw knives, it made sense.

“You… know a lot…” He blinked several times, opening his mouth to say more, but is stopped by his own cough. His throat was dry, drier still despite the fact they didn’t need to drink here, and the rocks had only kicked up more dust than he was used to.
solitarynote: (Default)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-07 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)
He nods again - not necessarily to reassure her either. More so he could avoid further questions - ones he may or may not have the answers (or the breath) to explain.

She was asking for his name. Right. “Sunny… um…” He trailed off. A poor introduction. Should he… ask for her name? Was that how this worked? It had been so long since Sunny himself had held a conversation on his own; normally Kel, or one of his friends in Headspace, took the lead. He couldn’t have that sort of relief here.
solitarynote: (Exertion)

[personal profile] solitarynote 2025-01-09 01:54 pm (UTC)(link)
“Need…” He repeated the name, hoping he could commit it to memory (and, that maybe, she wouldn’t become a boss in his dreams… next time he felt comfortable enough to dream. She seemed nice).

Sunny sits down on one of the larger rocks nearby, not quite too far from her, but also not close. Proximity was something he was still adverse to for mostly everyone, so it wasn’t anything to do with her. Still… he hoped she wouldn’t take offense.

Need’s own posture and attempts were helping to relax him, except… a cold sweat broke out across his back. He fidgeted a little in place. Sunny was… awful at telling age. If she asked him to guess, he wouldn’t be able to answer for fear of somehow offending her. He also… didn’t know about this ‘ancients-who-looked-young’ thing… did that mean they were young at heart?

Reality was so complicated. Death was too, apparently. So Sunny simply nodded half-heartedly, hoping that would give her permission to continue, or assuage any sort of uncomfortableness he might cause…