thecrossinglogs | THE CROSSING #1

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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!

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

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[Sunny is barely holding on by a thread - so when Nagito’s laugh bubbles up from deep inside him, something strange and unhinged, something so unlike the other teen he had encountered so far…

Sunny freezes, eye widening. Not in shock, but something akin to panic.

Nagito’s next words make absolutely no sense - what would be hopeful about the situation they were in anyway??? - and when the other takes a step to move away-

Sunny’s hand reaches out, unbidden. Grasping onto Nagito’s sleeve like a death grip.]

D-don’t… go… [Don’t leave me a small voice inside him begs. He can’t get that out. Kel was already out there, already facing danger, and Sunny had just let him go like an awful friend. He didn’t want Nagito to disappear either - not even if it was for the selfish reason of Sunny keeping his own sanity for a while longer.]

[Nagito turns sharply. He's looking at Sunny, but it's not clear if Nagito is actually seeing him.] You don't understand. You can hear her, right? Not that you should listen to her! [Listening to Junko has never helped anyone. And maybe that would be a reminder, if all his thoughts weren't just a little too sharp right now.] There's just nothing hopeful about leaving her out there to yell like that!

[That sudden movement has Sunny’s heartbeat freezing and then increasing again.

Stop. Start. Stop. Start.

Nagito looks at him… and through him…

Sunny shakes his head, not quite understanding. Someone he knew, maybe? Was he worried?]

With… the others…? [He forced the words out through a raspy breath. Maybe he wanted to make sure that person was alright… but they couldn’t leave. They shouldn’t.]

Ah, how terrible for them if they are... [Nagito giggles, yanking at his hair with his free hand. He hadn't been thinking about any of the other voices for a while now--though the serial killer he brought occasionally pierces through in quick bright stabs, and he doesn't know why someone who hardly mattered is bothering him now. Sunny bringing them up is a reminder it's more than Junko endlessly chattering.] With so much despair out there calling to us, isn't leaving them be a wishy-washy ending? Even normal, insignificant people wouldn't leave it like this, right?

[That laugh has Sunny wondering if he had missed something. Was… something funny? He didn’t know. Conversation was so difficult.]

What… would we do…?

[They weren’t supposed to leave the light. Sunny knew that much. He… didn’t know what ‘normal’ people would do. Sunny himself was pretty insignificant and awful, so he found himself questioning this. He shivered, fingers leaving Nagito’s sleeve and covering his ears. No more. No more yelling.]

I've missed my chance before, but this time--this time I'm going to kill her. [Nagito's voice drips with loathing, as if his hatred has filled him up so completely there's no room for anything else.]

[Those words fall from Nagito’s mouth, so full of promise and hatred and Sunny just…

Stares

And stares

And then blinks a few times.

Like he can’t quite comprehend what just came out of Nagito’s mouth. It wasn’t the fact that Nagito was promising to kill someone - though that was concerning - it was more… the utter loathing he seemed to have for one person.

Sunny shook his head a few times, almost confused.

‘You don’t have to kill her. You don’t have to go through that.’

~~It was a mistake~~

You won’t be able to forgive yourself.

Were his thoughts focused on Nagito anymore?]

It’ll… hurt you… [His words are soft, but sure this time. Such a strange thing to say, surely, and yet… Sunny knew that.]

Do you think so? [Nagito giggles again, too loud and too long.] But that's alright. If it's just someone as worthless and insignificant as me, it's fine. All my life I waited to become a stepping stone, and instead I died in such a normal, useless way. [He moves again, but not far. It's less that he's running off again and more that he's pacing, a rabbit restless in its cage.] This can make up for it!

[He can be useful like this. He can matter, just a little. Just a little bit. Just one little spark after death, surely even he can have something so small?]

[That giggle - long and loud - has Sunny flinching again. He… had said something strange then, right? Definitely.

But Nagito’s next words… he wanted to be useful. No one could be more insignificant than Sunny himself. Any one of his other friends would have been able to reassure Nagito… heck, even his sister would have known the right words to say.

Sunny… wasn’t able to do that. He didn’t know what to do, how to convince Nagito otherwise. What did normal people do…? They connected their experiences. So, if only to keep Nagito from running off and doing something rash…]

M-me… too… [The admission was barely above a whisper, fear nearly holding him back. Sunny had things he needed to atone for, but he couldn’t accept forgiveness.]

A normal death is what happens to normal people. I'm really being ridiculously impertinent to want more, and yet--! [He looks at Sunny. The focus is there now, but none of the sharpness is gone.] How did you die, then, Sunny-kun?

[Sunny would have questioned what a ‘normal’ death was… except Nagito’s gaze bore into his singular eye, lucid and sharp, and that question…

Everything is going to be okay… except it wasn’t. He struggled, he failed, the glint of metal shears and pain and then darkness and then the River-

Sunny shook his head frantically, hand reaching up to his covered eye. Making sure it wasn’t bleeding again. The wound, though long closed, seemed to throb in time to his rising heartbeat. It was enough to give him a headache, lungs fluttering against his ribs with uneven breaths.

He couldn’t answer that, couldn’t explain, wouldn't.]

It hurt…

[That was all he could give. Nagito was smart though - he would pick up the pieces. Maybe. Not that Sunny wanted him to know, but the fear of maybe disappointing someone who had only been kind and helpful to him so far was a different kind of terrifying. Sunny was Afraid.]

That's how it felt, not what happened. [He says it pitilessly, but softly. As if he was having a normal conversation. There are threads of behavior connecting Nagito now to Nagito before all this happened because they've always been the same person capable of the same gentleness and cruelty. And, like Nagito often does, he keeps talking without waiting for a response.] I was sick. Did I mention that? Sorry, my memory isn't the best. I had a problem with that, too, actually, but that would have taken much longer to kill me.

Or is it that you can't remember how you died? I know how, but I'd been dying for so long, it would have been hard to forget. The last day, though--I can't really remember it. [Nagito laughs, but it's a smaller, lost sound.] I wonder how long it took for anybody to notice?

[Nagito’s words were true - Sunny’s own account wasn’t what had happened. Only the aftermath, only what he felt. And yet… how could he even begin to put into words what had happened? How much it had hurt, how frightened he had been - so much more than before?

He couldn’t.

Thankfully - maybe mercifully - Sunny’s own propensity to be out of tune with the rhythm of conversation saved him: Nagito continued talking.

Except… Sunny shook his head. Nagito hadn’t mentioned being sick. And he seemed healthy when they were here - well, they were all dead already, and Sunny knew better than to take first impressions as a sign of ‘health’ (his own, physical and mental, was still questionable, despite what others might consider a mild-mannered, well-behaved child).

He felt awful. He didn’t want to lie to the other teen, but at the same time he didn’t want the conversation to loop back on himself - to things that he couldn’t quite say. Instead, those lost words hit something in him.

If he had… given in to any one of his own darker moments… how long would it have taken? Would anyone beside his mother - gone from the house for the time being - have noticed? Would… anyone have cared?]

Hinata-kun… Souda-kun… [Those two names slipped from Sunny’s lips, dry and hoarse from nerves. Nagito… had mentioned them before. His acquaintances. They lived together mind you he didn’t know they lived together on an island. They surely would have noticed… and cared. Sunny had a hard time putting that into words, but he hoped the names would jar something in Nagito himself.]

[Nagito's eyes focus more clearly, looking from Sunny to his own mechanical hand. He flexes it, listening to the soft whirring of the joints.]

I never asked them to make this. Of course I would never! [Too selfish. Souda-kun didn't even like him that much, he was sure. And Hinata-kun--] I don't want you to get the wrong impression of them. If it took some time for them to find my body, it was my own bad luck. [But why can't he remember? That whole day, he's forgotten nearly all of it. There's bits and pieces, but he's falling into huge gaps when he tries to look more closely.

Nagito relaxes by degrees.] Hinata-kun... And Tsumiki-san. They're responsible for the hospital. [Hinata wears a lot of hats.] They must have checked before the end of the day. It would be an insult to them to say they didn't.

[The River feels cold beneath him. He's not sure how long he's been standing here.]

Bad… luck…? [Sunny wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was his own circumstances just bad luck too then? …No… Sunny was just cursed.

Enough about his own self-deprecation. He listened to Nagito’s words, finding himself nodding. Nagito knew these people he mentioned, he knew what they were like - just as surely as Sunny knew his own friends and what they would do.]

[The light was getting further away, and the creeping cold of darkness was nipping at their heels. Sunny’s eye widened, glancing between that retreating spark and the wash of darker-than-night approaching. Hesitantly, he reached out again - for Nagito’s sleeve, tugging gently. A reminder to keep moving.]

I'm lucky. It's not much of a talent, I know, but it's mine. [Sunny tugs, and Nagito starts moving again. Slowly, as if he were drifting on the River instead of walking on it, but moving back toward the group regardless.] When bad luck happens, it mean good luck is coming. That's always how it's been. Like the serial killer who kidnapped me in middle school. [He gestures around them with his free hand in reference to the various voices around them, now that he's again aware of more than just Enoshima's voice. That's the memory he used to start this particular Crossing to begin with.] He couldn't random me because I was an orphan by that point, and he stuffed me into a garbage bag, but while I was in there, I found a winning lottery ticket. So really, it was good luck in the end. Hope shines bright because despair is so miserably dark.

[Oh good - even if Nagito’s pace was automatic and slower than usual, they were still moving. Sunny didn’t have to worry about the dark catching up to them that way.

He listened silently, taking the information in. That grating, taunting voice that cut in every so often… must have been the serial killer. And while the thought of even being in the same room as one caused a cold shiver to creep through Sunny, Nagito… didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

All those horrible things the other teen had experienced, and he was still…]

Optimistic. [The word slipped from him before he could take it back. But… that was what Nagito sounded like, to him. Believing in hope, making the best of a situation… they were all things people who ‘looked on the bright side’ could do. No wonder it seemed like he got along well with Kel.

All things that Sunny was incapable of. Because no matter how hopeful a situation might, there was a distinct difference between him and Nagito… everything that had happened was Sunny’s fault. Being kidnapped by a serial killer, finding that lottery ticket… he was pretty sure they weren’t the direct result of something Nagito himself had done.]

How…? [He bit back the rest of his question. But… maybe more than anything… Sunny really wanted to know how Nagito had been able to move on.

You can’t. His father’s voice reminded him. You don’t deserve to.]]

[Nagito giggles, a reminder he's still far from in a normal state of mind. Still, he's walking in the right direction.] Actually, I'm more the pessimistic type. But hope is inevitable. There are people who are born with talent that creates hope. There's even just a few people who can create it out of nothing! [Which is a newer opinion of his, but one he holds dear now, introducing just the barest hint of grey into his black and white beliefs about hope.] And as long as those people exist, hope will always overcome despair.

[But he's not one of them. He speaks like he's talking about superheroes or celebrities.]

[Sunny certainly couldn’t speak to what a ‘normal state of mind’ was. He was pretty sure he didn’t have it either. Still… they seemed to be heading in the right direction. The light was ahead of them, continuing that ever slow gait. Thankfully.

But Nagito was… pessimistic? Sunny wouldn’t have pegged him for that either, not now and not before the crossing. Maybe… Nagito just thought he was pessimistic? His outlook certainly looked like an optimist, from what he was describing.]

That… must be nice… [It was the closest he’s gotten to a regular conversation, ironically enough. The voices were small echoes right now, a brief reprieve. Who knew how long it would last? Or… maybe he had just gotten better at tuning them out. All but his father’s.

To create hope out of nothing… to triumph over despair… the way Nagito talked of others, it seemed like they were superhuman. Ironic, considering the fact that Sunny thought Nagito almost one himself (the metal arm certainly sold that fact).]

You should meet Naegi-sama. Naegi Makoto. [Nagito would point him out if it wasn't so dark. He walks a little faster--not quickly, but something closer to a normal walking speed at least.] He's the Super High School Level Hope. [Former, technically--Makoto was his underclassman, but they're both out of high school by now. Still, to call Makoto former SHSL Hope, even if it really only refers to the high school part, feels wrong.] Maybe you'd understand then. Whenever I try to talk about it, it always seems to come out wrong.

[It must, because nobody ever understands.]

[Naegi-san… Naegi… Makoto… Nagito had mentioned him once before but.]

Ah. [A small noise of recognition left him.] Makoto.

[No further explanation though - the two had met in the caverns previously, and now it was making sense. Well… some of it was. So Nagito and Makoto knew each other? Makoto was one of those people who had helped Nagito with his arm, right? The pieces of the puzzle connected…

Sunny nodded. Beyond not really understanding the impressive school titles that the students were given, the teen did know one thing… Makoto sure did seem hopeful.]

You… make sense… [Sure, there had been some times when Sunny didn’t understand the stuff that came out of Nagito’s mouth, but he would put his own understanding at about an 80%. That was surely a better ratio than Nagito was thinking?]

Sunny-kun is a kind person. [Another giggle, almost lost under the calling voices.] But you don't have to say that just to assuage the feelings of someone like me.

[Sunny… didn’t know what to do with the compliment. He wasn’t kind, not really. He was awful, avoidant, selfish…

But… this wasn’t about him. To the teen, it felt really important that his words reach the other. Sunny didn’t know why - that was just the feeling he had.

So, where he would normally have just left the conversation stagnate, he moved to stand in front of Nagito, staring. Yes, it put a pause in their automatic pacing, but… this was important. Somehow.

Sunny’s gaze fixed on the other teen with wavering.] You do… make sense… to me… [Pacing himself, mostly so he wouldn’t be out of breath from just trying to speak his mind. He wracked his brain for examples - that’s what gave words concrete evidence, right?] Hope’s Peak… That metaphor… [When they had met. And the meeting after… and even now…] It… makes sense… Hope… and fear…

[Where was he going with this?? Sunny was trying really, really hard to reach Nagito. He hadn’t given something akin to a speech in a really long time. Not for the first time, Sunny wished Kel was here, if only to put it better than he could.]

[Nagito hums a thoughtful sing-song. There are sharp edges to his smile. He knows Sunny doesn't like to talk, but this is important--the most important thing to Nagito. Hope that falls on the world like the sun rises in the morning, because without it, without it, without it--]

Then explain to me what you understand about hope, Sunny-kun.

[Sunny nods, a seriousness taking over his countenance and then-]

Nothing.

[At least, that’s what he says at first. He’s still cataloguing his thoughts, so while he might have given Nagito a mild heart attack… he finally continues after a few beats of silence.]

Before… that is… hope… wasn’t what I felt.

[Some might have called it other names: obligation, duty, holding on, self-preservation… for Sunny, it wasn’t something like that. It was simply the fact that Sunny couldn’t atone.]

But… you show… hope is light. Light when… it’s dark… [Sunny hated the dark. He also wished he could believe in it: Hope. Wished that he could give Nagito a better answer… but maybe it didn’t have to be complicated.] It isn’t… for someone like me… I don’t… [Deserve it his father’s voice echoed that sentiment. Sunny had already hit despair four years ago. He couldn’t say he was holding onto hope… not when all he had done till now was indulge in his own comfortable fantasies. But…] We’re… here… does that… mean something?

[It had to, at least for people like Nagito and Frieda and Kel… even maybe his sister. Even if her being here was a form of his own personal hell…]

B3 (When you want to tag everything, but this is the greatest option for these two XD)

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Time to make this worse! XD

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Nagito T.T

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WELP THAT QUESTION XD CW: mentions of struggle, blood, stabbing, panic attack

cw: terminal illness talk

CW: brief past suicidal ideation

everyone in this thread is doing great

Give Nagito the Reminders that He Matters <3 T.T (or the Gurren Lagann speech with his friends XD)

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So much is just about to click for Sunny here XD

sunny attaching string to pins on a corkboard labeled "nagito???"

Exactly XD Sadly there is no evidence, as it was all left back in his room /jk

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Going to apologize to Nagito in advance XD