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thecrossinglogs2025-01-18 12:15 pm
thecrossingmods) wrote in thecrossinglogs2025-01-18 12:15 pm
THE CROSSING #1
THE CROSSING #1
It's time.
For more detail on the particulars of the event, be sure to refer to our info and planning post!
For more detail on the particulars of the event, be sure to refer to our info and planning post!
time to choose
— CALM BEFORE THE STORM
It likely isn’t a surprise, when The Ferryman speaks into your mind again. You’ve known The Crossing was coming, and for the past hours, days, or weeks (however you prefer to section your time in this place), you’ve been feeling it drawing closer.
You’ve felt the pull on your soul, guiding you to follow The River; you’ve felt the changes in the Cavern, and in yourself, a shift in atmosphere that seems to start in the humidity of the air and sinks deep down into your bones. You feel solid. More importantly, you feel vulnerable.
Those who want to pay the toll are invited to gather at The Ferryman’s point of vigil; those who don’t will at least have the draw of The Crossing to guide them.
If you have anything to say before the split, now is the time to do it.
— LIGHTS OUT
Because when the moment comes, it waits for no one.
The Lantern doesn't extinguish immediately. Those gathered with The Ferryman (and, perhaps, those gathered near The Ferryman) will see it: a precarious flickering of flame behind glass. The light shrinks, and with it comes a feeling of something else retreating, too — something that you may have understood was there without realizing it, or that you may have assumed was simply another aspect of the light itself.
The bubble of safety, you realize, is receding. And when The Lantern's Light finally goes out, so too does the shield keeping you separated from the wraiths prowling the tunnels.
The darkness closes in. The Cavern's glowing plants are now the only steady source of light in the entire chamber, which allows your eyes to adjust, but only so much; it becomes difficult to make out the faces of even those standing right beside you.
It's time, so says The Ferryman. Make your decision.
follow the leader
— PAYMENT COMES DUE
There is no pomp or ceremony associated with The Ferryman's toll collection. You need only to be willing, and ready.
The darkness seems to shroud The Ferryman more than it does the rest of you, somehow. You can't make out the features of their face, only hear their voice bidding you to step forward when you're ready. For any of you who might need a moment, The Ferryman will wait.
A mote of light appears in The Ferryman's palms as the toll is paid, growing in proportion to the number of memories it receives. It's small, but you can feel the influence of it: that protective bubble you felt recede when The Lantern extinguished grows again around the light, just enough to envelop the group gathered here.
Time to go, says The Ferryman. And even though you can't track their movements in the darkness, the light tracks it for you: over the lip of the land bridge, and down to the black River below.
Nowhere to go but forward. When you step off yourself (even if it takes a bit of psyching up to get there), you'll find that the drop is gentle, and that your steps suspend safely over the water.
Just don't get left behind.
— HEAR A VOICE THAT CAUSES YOU PAIN
And so, you journey.
You walk on the surface of The River as if it were a wide, black road. Ahead of you, that same mote of light follows in the steps of The Ferryman, illuminating the ripples they leave in the water as breadcrumbs for you to follow. The air above The River is cold, certainly, and sometimes the icy water might splash up onto your shoes or ankles — but The River is wide, and there's room enough to walk together, even if you can't see each other well. It's as comfortable as a journey like this might ever be.
But The Crossing is a trial. You didn't forget, did you?
It starts slow: sounds from the darkness that could be voices, unless it's been dark for so long that your ears are playing tricks on you? Shouts of anger, high-pitched laughter, cries of fury and despair.
Then there are words. They beckon to you from the darkness: some plaintive, some punitive. They want you to stop. They want you to stay. They want you gone. Most of the voices are unfamiliar to you, but at least one, you know very well.
You need to keep moving. If you lose sight of The Ferryman's steps, you run the risk of being lost in the Cavern forever. Or perhaps it's someone beside you who's on the edge of losing their focus, someone who needs you to help keep them on the path?
trust your gut
— FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE
The rest of you, left behind on the banks of The River, have only your wits, the contents of your pockets, and the pull of something beyond the darkness to help you on the journey. The darkness is smothering, but not completely impenetrable: you have the glow of the Cavern plants, the faint gleam of the toll group’s steps on the surface of The River, and anything you may have picked up before you got here.
You can travel together or alone, but you must move. The metaphysical pull on you is growing stronger and more insistent the longer you stay in one place, and the Cavern, before preternaturally silent and still, is beginning to stir.
The wraiths, once silent, shapeless, harmless shadows following you about the Cavern, have changed. Where before they were merely unsettling to look at, now they have become larger and more monstrous: sharp eyes and claws, wide eyes and mouths. Where before they were silent, seemingly both unable and unwilling to make any sound, now they wail: wordless cries of pain and anger giving away their positions in the darkness.
Some of them may even be familiar to you, once they get close enough; the wraiths that before had seemingly taken a liking to you, seeking you out and following you wherever you went, now seem dedicated to hunting you specifically.
What the wraiths want from you, it's hard to say. If they catch you, they will tear at you without strategy or direction, like a ravenous animal — or perhaps a terrified one.
Any injuries you sustain during this time, whether from the wraiths or otherwise, are just as real to you as they would have been when you were alive: you bleed, you break, and you feel every inch of the pain inflicted on you.
Nowhere to go but forward. If you follow the pull in your gut, you'll get to where you're going. One way or another.
on the other side
— A MOMENT OF RESPITE
Whichever trial you've chosen, there is, eventually, the end.
You feel it first in the atmosphere: a resettling of the off-kilterness that's been surrounding you. The air slowly becomes drier, and the darkness less punishing. The plants that line the walls of the Cavern become more and more rare, their light replaced by ambient light leaking in from somewhere above you.
For the group traveling with The Ferryman, the wide expanse of The River gradually becomes shallower and narrower, until it's hardly a trickle beneath your feet, winding through the cave system. For the group traveling on their own, there comes a point where the wraiths seem unwilling or unable to follow, their shrieks in the darkness growing further and further away.
You feel it next in yourself: a smoothing of your rough edges, aches and muscle pain and physical exhaustion melting away. For any injured on the journey, your wounds resolve themselves as if natural healing on fast-forward. Natural healing is not always the cleanest or the most comfortable, though; you might be left with scars, crooked fingers or noses, or some other lasting memory of what you risked to be here.
Lastly, once The River has narrowed enough and two groups have reunited again: The Lantern relights. The Ferryman, for all that they were nearly invisible to you in the darkness, seems just the same as they were before. You made it through, they tell you, with no small amount of warmth and pride. Let's take a load off.
You should rest. If you took anything from the Cavern to help you on your journey, you'll find that it's gone from your pockets — when did that happen? Did you set it down? It's been such a long journey, it could have been a lapse of memory.
A memory? Ah, there's something else gone too, isn't there? Willingly or otherwise. If you try to reach for it now, it's like dust in the breeze, or a dream upon waking. You know it was there once, but the harder you try to recall it back, the thinner the details get. Eventually, you might not remember even that there was something to forget.
Congratulations. The Crossing is complete.
Image credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 + stock imagery unless otherwise noted
It likely isn’t a surprise, when The Ferryman speaks into your mind again. You’ve known The Crossing was coming, and for the past hours, days, or weeks (however you prefer to section your time in this place), you’ve been feeling it drawing closer.
You’ve felt the pull on your soul, guiding you to follow The River; you’ve felt the changes in the Cavern, and in yourself, a shift in atmosphere that seems to start in the humidity of the air and sinks deep down into your bones. You feel solid. More importantly, you feel vulnerable.
Those who want to pay the toll are invited to gather at The Ferryman’s point of vigil; those who don’t will at least have the draw of The Crossing to guide them.
If you have anything to say before the split, now is the time to do it.
— LIGHTS OUT
Because when the moment comes, it waits for no one.
The Lantern doesn't extinguish immediately. Those gathered with The Ferryman (and, perhaps, those gathered near The Ferryman) will see it: a precarious flickering of flame behind glass. The light shrinks, and with it comes a feeling of something else retreating, too — something that you may have understood was there without realizing it, or that you may have assumed was simply another aspect of the light itself.
The bubble of safety, you realize, is receding. And when The Lantern's Light finally goes out, so too does the shield keeping you separated from the wraiths prowling the tunnels.
The darkness closes in. The Cavern's glowing plants are now the only steady source of light in the entire chamber, which allows your eyes to adjust, but only so much; it becomes difficult to make out the faces of even those standing right beside you.
It's time, so says The Ferryman. Make your decision.
follow the leader
There is no pomp or ceremony associated with The Ferryman's toll collection. You need only to be willing, and ready.
The darkness seems to shroud The Ferryman more than it does the rest of you, somehow. You can't make out the features of their face, only hear their voice bidding you to step forward when you're ready. For any of you who might need a moment, The Ferryman will wait.
A mote of light appears in The Ferryman's palms as the toll is paid, growing in proportion to the number of memories it receives. It's small, but you can feel the influence of it: that protective bubble you felt recede when The Lantern extinguished grows again around the light, just enough to envelop the group gathered here.
Time to go, says The Ferryman. And even though you can't track their movements in the darkness, the light tracks it for you: over the lip of the land bridge, and down to the black River below.
Nowhere to go but forward. When you step off yourself (even if it takes a bit of psyching up to get there), you'll find that the drop is gentle, and that your steps suspend safely over the water.
Just don't get left behind.
— HEAR A VOICE THAT CAUSES YOU PAIN
And so, you journey.
You walk on the surface of The River as if it were a wide, black road. Ahead of you, that same mote of light follows in the steps of The Ferryman, illuminating the ripples they leave in the water as breadcrumbs for you to follow. The air above The River is cold, certainly, and sometimes the icy water might splash up onto your shoes or ankles — but The River is wide, and there's room enough to walk together, even if you can't see each other well. It's as comfortable as a journey like this might ever be.
But The Crossing is a trial. You didn't forget, did you?
It starts slow: sounds from the darkness that could be voices, unless it's been dark for so long that your ears are playing tricks on you? Shouts of anger, high-pitched laughter, cries of fury and despair.
Then there are words. They beckon to you from the darkness: some plaintive, some punitive. They want you to stop. They want you to stay. They want you gone. Most of the voices are unfamiliar to you, but at least one, you know very well.
You need to keep moving. If you lose sight of The Ferryman's steps, you run the risk of being lost in the Cavern forever. Or perhaps it's someone beside you who's on the edge of losing their focus, someone who needs you to help keep them on the path?
trust your gut
The rest of you, left behind on the banks of The River, have only your wits, the contents of your pockets, and the pull of something beyond the darkness to help you on the journey. The darkness is smothering, but not completely impenetrable: you have the glow of the Cavern plants, the faint gleam of the toll group’s steps on the surface of The River, and anything you may have picked up before you got here.
You can travel together or alone, but you must move. The metaphysical pull on you is growing stronger and more insistent the longer you stay in one place, and the Cavern, before preternaturally silent and still, is beginning to stir.
The wraiths, once silent, shapeless, harmless shadows following you about the Cavern, have changed. Where before they were merely unsettling to look at, now they have become larger and more monstrous: sharp eyes and claws, wide eyes and mouths. Where before they were silent, seemingly both unable and unwilling to make any sound, now they wail: wordless cries of pain and anger giving away their positions in the darkness.
Some of them may even be familiar to you, once they get close enough; the wraiths that before had seemingly taken a liking to you, seeking you out and following you wherever you went, now seem dedicated to hunting you specifically.
What the wraiths want from you, it's hard to say. If they catch you, they will tear at you without strategy or direction, like a ravenous animal — or perhaps a terrified one.
Any injuries you sustain during this time, whether from the wraiths or otherwise, are just as real to you as they would have been when you were alive: you bleed, you break, and you feel every inch of the pain inflicted on you.
Nowhere to go but forward. If you follow the pull in your gut, you'll get to where you're going. One way or another.
on the other side
Whichever trial you've chosen, there is, eventually, the end.
You feel it first in the atmosphere: a resettling of the off-kilterness that's been surrounding you. The air slowly becomes drier, and the darkness less punishing. The plants that line the walls of the Cavern become more and more rare, their light replaced by ambient light leaking in from somewhere above you.
For the group traveling with The Ferryman, the wide expanse of The River gradually becomes shallower and narrower, until it's hardly a trickle beneath your feet, winding through the cave system. For the group traveling on their own, there comes a point where the wraiths seem unwilling or unable to follow, their shrieks in the darkness growing further and further away.
You feel it next in yourself: a smoothing of your rough edges, aches and muscle pain and physical exhaustion melting away. For any injured on the journey, your wounds resolve themselves as if natural healing on fast-forward. Natural healing is not always the cleanest or the most comfortable, though; you might be left with scars, crooked fingers or noses, or some other lasting memory of what you risked to be here.
Lastly, once The River has narrowed enough and two groups have reunited again: The Lantern relights. The Ferryman, for all that they were nearly invisible to you in the darkness, seems just the same as they were before. You made it through, they tell you, with no small amount of warmth and pride. Let's take a load off.
You should rest. If you took anything from the Cavern to help you on your journey, you'll find that it's gone from your pockets — when did that happen? Did you set it down? It's been such a long journey, it could have been a lapse of memory.
A memory? Ah, there's something else gone too, isn't there? Willingly or otherwise. If you try to reach for it now, it's like dust in the breeze, or a dream upon waking. You know it was there once, but the harder you try to recall it back, the thinner the details get. Eventually, you might not remember even that there was something to forget.
Congratulations. The Crossing is complete.
Image credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 + stock imagery unless otherwise noted
The Other Side
Blood stains still cover his clothes by the time he gets up and starts looking for the other two- not the best sight but at the same time he has no other clothes and running around shirtless feels... tasteless in a place like that.
Why is he even trying that hard? For a moment, a short flash, he tells himself 'that's what he'd do' but the thought comes and goes with a blink, leaving Kel merely confused on where said feeling may even come from. It lingers, it almost hurts, but it slips away before he can even try to hold onto it.
Huh... weird. He pushes it to the side when he spots Sunny, though. Ah- one of the two, and he's still in one piece.]
There you are...
[He stops, crouching in front of Sunny and, at least for now, ignoring the notebook.]
See? Told you I'd come as well. How are you holding up, buddy?
no subject
And then Kel’s voice hits his ears. Sunny’s sole gaze, haunted, focuses on his friend. Recognition sets in after a few seconds, followed by the start of a panic at the sight of blood on the other’s shirt.]
K-Kel…
no subject
No. Thank you but no.
He raises his hands just a little, trying to focus too much on Sunny's almost aggressive movements against the paper.]
All in one piece, see? My clothes look way worse than me, promise! What about you? I heard you all had a rough time.
CW: mentions of blood
At least Kel would have the muscles to go Tarzan style. Sunny would just get pneumonia or something.Looking Kel over, it didn’t look like the other had any injuries. If that was the case… then who or what’s blood was-?
A sudden flash, blood on wood, the memory having Sunny turning a shade paler.
He couldn’t bring himself to ask, gaze wandering back down to his notebook… which was now scratched out. If Kel tried to meet his gaze, he was definitely avoidant. He didn’t have the energy to pretend otherwise.]
All… in one piece… [Physically maybe. The Ferryman had kept their word. Mentally was a whole other story.]
cw: mention of deep wounds
Perks of being dead: no pneumonia for the boyIt totally was Kel's blood, his wounds just... closed. But he had no interest in sharing any of that until everyone had another meeting, nor until he was more mentally stable as well.
As goodas he was at putting up a mask, the still very resh memory of being torn apart was... there. He couldn't push it to she side, not now, even if he did his best to keep track of Sunny's condition and swallow his own emotions.
The tense smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes at all.]
One piece is... a good start.
[Better than Kel, he pretty much left bits of his own body... behind. The teen couldn't help but shiver at the idea before sitting down in front of Sunny. Focus on what you can do for them, Kel.]
If you need to talk about anything I can listen, okay? ['Not' talking was what killed them both in the end, after all.] And if you need distractions I can... try to provide?
no subject
or lack there of, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.]Mmmm. [A non-committal noise. Not sure if he would be able to say anything, Sunny’s gaze trailed back down to the mangled drawings. At least his eye patch had stayed? Since it was made from Kel’s shirt upon arrival, it hadn’t faded, but his new shirt… was no where to be seen. A hot splash of guilt settled in his stomach - Kel had worked really hard to get that shirt, and now Sunny was (thankfully) back to his old clothing.]
no subject
Kel closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself down. Anxiety was there, he couldn't hide it in any way, he could just... control it.]
Mh... [And here he thought he,Mari and Sunny were making some small progress. But he could understand the silence...] Do you want me to stay or leave you in peace for now? If you don't feel liek talking I can sit by. Or look at you write or draw, whatever you prefer... just- know we still got each other's back, mh?
[And thank god the eye patch was still there, orange and bright. They had to adapt with whatever they could find.... every time they stopped in a place, huh?]
no subject
He… honestly wasn’t sure what he wanted. He knew he didn’t want to be alone, but also forcing Kel to sit here with him seemed… wrong. The other probably had to be beyond exhausted, right? And what about all that blood-
Nope. Can’t think about that.
The only signs of acknowledgement were small: the slightest inclination of his head, and one of his hands reached out for Kel’s shirt. A tiny tug - stay - and then he was letting go.
A bit of fear seemed to make it back into his countenance when Kel mentioned the drawings; Sunny’s gaze flitted down to the page… and all of them were scratched out. That fact seemed to relieve some of his tension.
Even if, if one looked hard enough, the outline of some of the entries were still visible.]no subject
A nod before flopping down and sitting not too far from Sunny, merely reaching for the other's hand and pulling it closer just for a moment, rubbing it against a clean patch of his shorts before letting go. Not a good idea to pull his shirt when it's covered in blood, Sunny...]
Right...
[He did glance at the album, but at this point? He felt too tired to invade the other's privacy or mind and didn't... focus on the drawings. Not now. For once? He didn't even know what to do or say, not with Sunny in that state and not with himself still more than shaken...]
Are the voices... gone? At least?
no subject
Kel’s question had the teen’s gaze focus away from them, back towards the River, where they had come… He nodded.]
They’re gone. [The ones he had heard there, his father’s voice (whatever he might have said), weren’t here. His own head was eerily quiet too; had been, for the most part, since dying. He… missed the noise, missed the distraction. But those were far out of reach…
So Sunny wasn’t lying when he answered Kel, but… who knew if the voices would be back?]
Is the… loud noise… gone?
[A question, as Sunny remembered Kel mentioning screaming. The afterthought had him shivering, even if he hadn’t been there. Too much noise, too many angry voices…]
no subject
Good... really good.
[He wanted to yell at the ferryman for not preparing the group to face the voices or whatever they had to handle but... what else was to say or do? What could he even say?]
I don't know what it said to you or why,but you did good, very good, fighting it off. Very proud of you, buddy.
[If there were going to come back, they were going to fight them once more, simple as that. Kel was not looking forward seeing his friends in distress but he knew that dead or not, he was not going to let things just... pass by. Or afflict others too easily.]
Mh? Oh, yeah... it is. Those... things? thatfollowed us around? They shifted, turned and attacked as soon as you guys were distant enough. At least we know the extent of their danger now, huh? But, hey, look- still here, still in one piece. we did it, man.
no subject
Which were… what again??
That blissful emptiness when he tried to think back, like a fading bruise, filled him.
Sunny shook his head.]
I… don’t remember… either… [The teen did shiver when Kel mentioned the Wraiths though.]
no subject
Speaking of which...]
Well... it must mean you didn't lose anything big, right? That we both must have kept what truly matters.
[A wink as he forced himself to smile. Oh how wrong he was...]
Maybe, if we all go with the ferryan next time, we can all share our memories and try to bring them back to each other?
no subject
If they had to give up memories every time they crossed, then that meant, eventually, they would all fade away just like this…
The thought had his heart beating erratically, out of fear or elation, he wasn’t sure. The increase warring against the exhaustion trying to claim him.]
no subject
Losing memories? He did NOT like the idea one bit. Right now, it merely seemed the 'safest' option compared to the screaming and biting creatures.
At least he could see the other looking like he just finished running a marathon so... ]
If you want to rest a bit I can keep guard...
no subject
Sleep… the idea was tempting. So, so tempting. Maybe, if he was tired enough, his mind would be able to slip back into pleasant dreams…
Wishful thinking, but still.
He shook his head. Not yet, even as his eyelids grew heavy. His gaze seemed to ask a similar question to Kel - would he sleep?]
no subject
But now, to answer the other's question...]
Mh? Oh, no, I don't... feel like sleeping, sorry buddy. I'll keep guard a bit but I'm not leaving your side, what about it? I love you and I love Mari, that's a truth I'm never going to forget so... let me keep watch, mh?
no subject
He wouldn’t argue against Kel not sleeping; Sunny was pretty sure he looked just as haggard. So he leaned backwards, fully against the rocky wall behind them. Notebook out but… not drawing, not writing. Just sitting in the silence.
Sunny was used to silence. Maybe he was even good at it. Kel… normally wasn’t, but that was alright. It was what made their friendship so unique. And Sunny liked to listen.]