The Crossing Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecrossinglogs2025-02-05 04:26 pm
thecrossingmods) wrote in thecrossinglogs2025-02-05 04:26 pm
Entry tags:
- !tdm,
- akatsuki no yona: soo won,
- attack on titan: frieda reiss,
- chronicles of osreth: thara celehar,
- danganronpa: makoto naegi,
- danganronpa: nagito komaeda,
- heralds of valdemar: need,
- mass effect: allynbee shepard,
- omori: sunny,
- overlord: arche,
- pathologic: daniil dankovsky,
- toilet bound hanako-kun: hanako,
- toilet bound hanako-kun: nene yashiro
TEST DRIVE #2
TDM #2
Welcome to The Desert, wayward souls.
It's good to see you again.
The TDM is game canon and will be active FEB—APR. For further details about the setting, please reference our current setting page. All the information there is fair game for this TDM.
It's good to see you again.
The TDM is game canon and will be active FEB—APR. For further details about the setting, please reference our current setting page. All the information there is fair game for this TDM.
arrival
— BENEATH THE RIVER ( NEW CHARACTERS ONLY )
CW: claustrophobia, being buried alive
If your journey is starting here, you begin as all others have, and all others will: in The River.
You awake in the dark and the damp, with pressure all around you. In this case, however, it isn't water that surrounds you— but earth. Specifically, it is mud made from the sand of the desert and the standing water of the sparkling white salt flat that The River has become, and it behaves like quicksand. It has you here, and it doesn't want to let go.
You aren't in any direct danger; you may or may not notice that you don't need to breathe down here (or at all). But that may be difficult to appreciate in the moment: immediately on waking, you are seized by what was perhaps your last memory— or, at least, the somatic feeling of it. Panic, terror, pain; or (depending on the circumstances) maybe peace, or relief. It is the moment of your death as told by your body's visceral, emotional response, and it won't stop until you pull yourself out of the mud.
You are close to the surface. Even a bit of lucky thrashing might be enough for you to break through the sludge, and crack the shell of salt above. But The River will not release you easily; it will continue to suck you back down until you are able to fully pry yourself free— or someone else is able to lend you a hand.
— BEYOND THE RIVER ( EXISTING CHARACTERS ONLY )
If you arrived here from the Cavern, you'll find that the cave you came from opens up onto a rocky cliff face, not unlike the one you may have found yourself settled in before The Crossing. From here you can see the sprawl of the Desert ahead of you: the Oasis tucked against the base of the cliffs, the endless dunes, and the wide, white expanse of The River — though it hardly looks like one now.
There is no city to be found among these cliffs, though. They are steep and rocky, with dry, loose sand making finding and keeping traction difficult. There is a narrow, winding path to the Oasis below, but it will take time to hike, and the sun is already hot and oppressive above you.
Theoretically, there's a more direct route... if you're feeling bold. The cliffs are covered in jutting striations (as if, say, carved by a massive river, or maybe a River) that make halfway decent handholds and footholds for anyone hoping to climb their way down instead.
Just don't change your mind too much. If you turn back, you may find that the path behind has become impassable or now leads somewhere else entirely. You don't ever see it happening, but it's almost as if the cliffs are rearranging themselves whenever your back is turned.
shelter from the storm
— THE OASIS
The Oasis, as well as the rest of the surrounding Desert, is bustling with life. (Or do plants and animals have a Journey they need to complete, too?) It's a green, if not lush, patch surrounding a small lake of fresh water, partially shielded by the arms of the cliffs from the winds blowing across the dunes.
There are creatures besides you making their homes here: from small, skittering mammals to circling scavengers. If you look closely, though, you'll find it's a bit of a mishmash, as if an ecosystem appeared rather than developed... and, depending on where you're from, some of it might even be recognizable to you.
Those of you that came from the Cavern might appreciate the return of natural light, though you might be disappointed to discover that day and night don't always arrive at the cadences you might expect them to... In fact, they don't seem to follow any recognizable or even trackable pattern at all. Some noon suns stretch on forever; some sunsets speed run straight into dry, cold night.
If that were all the unpredictability the Desert had to offer, it might be tolerable enough... but the weather proves to be just as erratic. One day is clear and bright, with wide-open skies; the next brings dust clouds and lightning storms rolling in from the dunes. (And when today might be half as long as yesterday, those swings add up.)
Luckily for all of you, there have evidently been others here before you, just like in the Cavern. There is a collection of shelters lining the Oasis, no more than huts designed to keep everyone within as cool as possible. There's less space than there was in the Subterranean City, but that means some things are easier to find... The huts are decorated just like the city was before it, as if in layers with the odd familiar trinket from your home stashed in a drawer or under a mattress.
shifting sands
— THE DUNES
The Ferryman is holding vigil at The River, as they always are. They have positioned themselves (and their Lantern) so that their Light casts over the Oasis— but that aura can only cast so far.
The Lantern's Light might not be quite so obvious here as it was down in the Cavern, drowned out as it is by the desert sun, but you can still feel when you approach the edge of its protection, the way the sense of comfort and safety wanes. Beyond it are the rolling dunes of the Desert, where wraiths gather in great numbers.
Those who have been paying close attention will recognize that these are not the same wraiths you encountered in the Cavern. Or, at least, none of the wraiths you encountered in the Cavern are represented here.
These wraiths are not the violent, wailing beasts encountered by some during The Crossing. They are just the same as the wraiths originally found in the Cavern: silent, insubstantial, and always watching. The ones who have found the Oasis prowl the edge of the boundary; the others wander the dunes as if lost. Or, perhaps, searching.
If you, yourself, wander the dunes, you'll find them at best difficult to navigate— or, at worst, impossible. You may be swallowed by a sand storm, or lose sight of your landmarks when descending into a valley between the dunes. You might find yourself somewhere you never expected to be... Or, you might just need to send a message out to the others for help finding your way home.
If your journey is starting here, you begin as all others have, and all others will: in The River.
You awake in the dark and the damp, with pressure all around you. In this case, however, it isn't water that surrounds you— but earth. Specifically, it is mud made from the sand of the desert and the standing water of the sparkling white salt flat that The River has become, and it behaves like quicksand. It has you here, and it doesn't want to let go.
You aren't in any direct danger; you may or may not notice that you don't need to breathe down here (or at all). But that may be difficult to appreciate in the moment: immediately on waking, you are seized by what was perhaps your last memory— or, at least, the somatic feeling of it. Panic, terror, pain; or (depending on the circumstances) maybe peace, or relief. It is the moment of your death as told by your body's visceral, emotional response, and it won't stop until you pull yourself out of the mud.
You are close to the surface. Even a bit of lucky thrashing might be enough for you to break through the sludge, and crack the shell of salt above. But The River will not release you easily; it will continue to suck you back down until you are able to fully pry yourself free— or someone else is able to lend you a hand.
— BEYOND THE RIVER ( EXISTING CHARACTERS ONLY )
If you arrived here from the Cavern, you'll find that the cave you came from opens up onto a rocky cliff face, not unlike the one you may have found yourself settled in before The Crossing. From here you can see the sprawl of the Desert ahead of you: the Oasis tucked against the base of the cliffs, the endless dunes, and the wide, white expanse of The River — though it hardly looks like one now.
There is no city to be found among these cliffs, though. They are steep and rocky, with dry, loose sand making finding and keeping traction difficult. There is a narrow, winding path to the Oasis below, but it will take time to hike, and the sun is already hot and oppressive above you.
Theoretically, there's a more direct route... if you're feeling bold. The cliffs are covered in jutting striations (as if, say, carved by a massive river, or maybe a River) that make halfway decent handholds and footholds for anyone hoping to climb their way down instead.
Just don't change your mind too much. If you turn back, you may find that the path behind has become impassable or now leads somewhere else entirely. You don't ever see it happening, but it's almost as if the cliffs are rearranging themselves whenever your back is turned.
shelter from the storm
The Oasis, as well as the rest of the surrounding Desert, is bustling with life. (Or do plants and animals have a Journey they need to complete, too?) It's a green, if not lush, patch surrounding a small lake of fresh water, partially shielded by the arms of the cliffs from the winds blowing across the dunes.
There are creatures besides you making their homes here: from small, skittering mammals to circling scavengers. If you look closely, though, you'll find it's a bit of a mishmash, as if an ecosystem appeared rather than developed... and, depending on where you're from, some of it might even be recognizable to you.
Those of you that came from the Cavern might appreciate the return of natural light, though you might be disappointed to discover that day and night don't always arrive at the cadences you might expect them to... In fact, they don't seem to follow any recognizable or even trackable pattern at all. Some noon suns stretch on forever; some sunsets speed run straight into dry, cold night.
If that were all the unpredictability the Desert had to offer, it might be tolerable enough... but the weather proves to be just as erratic. One day is clear and bright, with wide-open skies; the next brings dust clouds and lightning storms rolling in from the dunes. (And when today might be half as long as yesterday, those swings add up.)
Luckily for all of you, there have evidently been others here before you, just like in the Cavern. There is a collection of shelters lining the Oasis, no more than huts designed to keep everyone within as cool as possible. There's less space than there was in the Subterranean City, but that means some things are easier to find... The huts are decorated just like the city was before it, as if in layers with the odd familiar trinket from your home stashed in a drawer or under a mattress.
shifting sands
The Ferryman is holding vigil at The River, as they always are. They have positioned themselves (and their Lantern) so that their Light casts over the Oasis— but that aura can only cast so far.
The Lantern's Light might not be quite so obvious here as it was down in the Cavern, drowned out as it is by the desert sun, but you can still feel when you approach the edge of its protection, the way the sense of comfort and safety wanes. Beyond it are the rolling dunes of the Desert, where wraiths gather in great numbers.
Those who have been paying close attention will recognize that these are not the same wraiths you encountered in the Cavern. Or, at least, none of the wraiths you encountered in the Cavern are represented here.
These wraiths are not the violent, wailing beasts encountered by some during The Crossing. They are just the same as the wraiths originally found in the Cavern: silent, insubstantial, and always watching. The ones who have found the Oasis prowl the edge of the boundary; the others wander the dunes as if lost. Or, perhaps, searching.
If you, yourself, wander the dunes, you'll find them at best difficult to navigate— or, at worst, impossible. You may be swallowed by a sand storm, or lose sight of your landmarks when descending into a valley between the dunes. You might find yourself somewhere you never expected to be... Or, you might just need to send a message out to the others for help finding your way home.
no subject
He said it was too bright for him, so I suggested that we ask the Ferryman, for ourselves as well as for thee and Mari.
[She hesitates for a moment. Given how he's taken to addressing her by her given name, she's wondered if he wouldn't prefer her to act in kind, but it's been a struggle for her overcome the sense of respect that's due to a clergyman.]
...
Say, wouldst thou prefer if I called thee by name rather than title?
me vs theethythouing
Ah -
[Somehow, despite the switch to the intimate and informal, the measure of it still takes him by surprise. He's not sure what about it strikes him so, until he realizes that the question itself is as much a struggle - the shift in the two are as much tied, in his mind, the term of address equally as affected in the adoption of different language.]
It would please me if thee wouldst call me Thara.
[Still it's shy and awkward, in the change, his own name sitting strangely in his mouth, with no title or surname to accompany it. The proper invitation of dropping formality, more so than the implication of it in adopting the shift in the first place.]
To speak so to thee is as I wouldst speak to a family member, and to use thine own name is much part of that.
We're in this together now!
Thara, then. It is my honour. I wasn't sure-- I mean, thy title--
[She cuts herself off and gently shakes her head.]
It's not like my title in life still has any bearing here, either.
no subject
He brushes aside the thought. It is his calling - that remains true, even in this.]
I already spoke to thee with less formality than rank requires. If thee were a petitioner, I wouldst speak with the weight of rank. [A formal 'we', in other words, that he's never employed] But there ist nothing to petition for here, and furthermore, I understand that the others must find Elvish strange to the ear.
no subject
...
It can't be easy to be the only elf here. Is there anything we humans could do to make things easier for thee?
[She still isn't sure if Celehar's remarkable primness and propriety arise from his role in society or from the social norms of his race as a whole, and if all of the others are acting is ways that are jarring for him, she'd neither mind adjusting her own behaviour nor gently advocating among the others too - but something tells her that Celehar mightn't even desire such accommodation.]
no subject
Truly, if there is, I would not know it. [He admits it in a quiet rasp, finally looking back to Frieda.] After all, everything about this is passing strange. Ist no stranger than being in a desert. I thank thee, for the thought. From what I have seen, thine own differences seem just as apparent.
no subject
That said, he's entirely right. All of them are from distinctly different places and cultures. Mentally, she sorts them into groups - Katsuki, Makoto, Nagito and Yusuke in one, Kel, Mari and Sunny in another, and everyone else by themselves -, but even that isn't so much an accurate assessment as just an involuntary mental comparison with her world.]
Thou art right. Aside from the few who came here from the same place, we all must have lived entirely different lives... but when our means are reduced to what little we find here, it's easy enough to act as a community, isn't it?
[Of course, they hardly have a choice, but she nevertheless finds it heartening how they've been making it work. Their level of communal organisation may be pitifully rudimentary, but they're doing their best.]
Dost thou plan to set up another altar?
no subject
I mean to - yet the proposal seemed to hold little impression for the others, when first I made it. I thought this time to make one only for myself. [In truth it's no burden, in that he's used to a more private shrine.] I invite thee to make use of it, if thou prefer. Otherwise, it seems space for gathering might be made elsewhere. At one of those meetings that gathers that the young so prefer.
no subject
It seems like few here are religious, doesn't it? I have to admit that that includes me, too. Back home, my people worshipped the three Walls as gifts from the heavens that protected us, but...
[She sadly shakes her head. She inherited the knowledge of the truth - that her ancestor, the first King of the Walls, used his powers to turn nearly half the population he took into exile into enormous, 50 meter / 165" tall titans that lined up in circles and hardened into the Walls, then erased the others' memory of it after the act. How could she have worshipped such a scarifice?]
I feel like if my world ever had gods, they must have long forsaken us.
...
In thy service for Ulis, how does he make himself known to thee?
no subject
Thine opinion is not uncommon in my own home, either, I am aware. If all were as devout as we, then there would be no need for Prelacies or orders.
[And speaking of his Calling...]
He has come to me in dreams only once - when I thought myself unworthy of service. I... did not expect it again. I have my Calling. It is enough. I do this work not because it needs recognition, but to right what wrongs I can.
no subject
I want to support thee. So if I can help in any way, don't hesitate to let me know.
[With the construction of the altar, with any rituals he may want to carry out. Ulis may be a foreign god to her, but should Celehar find joy or comfort in not being alone in his worship, she won't shy away from it. Given the absence of gods of her own, it doesn't feel like blasphemy.]
no subject
Strange to receive more gentle, life-affirming touch in death than he has in life. Such is the irony of it, he supposes, but thinking so does not stop him from twitching with surprise every time it happens. Here and now, outside of the high emotion of the Crossing, he nods in some acknowledgement of the contact, fingers moving slightly under her hand but not returning it in the same way. Resettling into something else, now that the contact is not so desperately needed.]
Thine efforts are a kindness, but thou needst not worry that I will be neglected. Nor feel the need to neglect thine own concerns in my favor.
no subject
My own concerns...
[She thoughtfully trails off.]
I feel myself at a loss, I have to admit - as to my place and purpose here. In life, I had my duty, burdensome as it may have been, but here, in death, I feel that I can only drift along the river we follow.
no subject
It strikes close to the heart, to hear his own feelings echoed back at him - Celehar nods, the gesture made more obvious with the hat bobbing along with it.[
In truth, thine concerns are mine own. It is what we are meant to do - give up our attachments. And yet...
[He tilts his head back, to watch the sky overhead. It's beginning to fade, slightly, the angle of the sun growing sharper in a way he would not have expected yet - or has he simply lost track of time, and it is long overdue?]
It ill suits me to be left waiting, either, much as I do not find myself ready to Cross again.
no subject
It seems that all we can do is apply ourselves, both in service of the group and in the exploration of the terrain... but with our fellow souls having adapted to our circumstances quite amiably, that may still leave more time for self-reflection than I necessary desired.
[Her smile turns a tad wry, aware of the inability to shirk what may well be their primary purpose here.]
If thou wouldst spend time with me to either share or divert our thoughts during our stay here, I'd much welcome it.
no subject
[So he says, but he doesn't seem enthusiastic about the prospect. He's not used to being without work to do, and it shows.]
They are better suited to exploration that I, admittedly. Thine own experiences must be much the same, with thine responsibilities.
no subject
While thou art right, I may still venture out. I want to do my part, and sitting idle may be harder on my mind.
[Raised as a noble and condemned to inaction by her duty, she may be unused to strenuous exertion, but if nothing else, she spent much time out in nature and was in good health until the end... and it's not like survival is still a concern, now.]
no subject
It may be there are more tasks the Ferryman might offer, that thou might accomplish - certainly it weighs ill on me, that they work while we sit idly. If thine efforts find such a task, I would ask thee bring it to my attention, and should mine do the same, I will let thee know in turn.
no subject
I shall. Thank thee, my friend.
[For everything - for supporting her, sincerely sympathising with her, encouraging her, standing by her side. Offering a small bow and stepping back to the entrance, she's ready to leave him for the moment - but not without a reminder:]
Should thou require any kind of help, please do call on me.