THE CROSSING #2

[thecrossingmods]

THE CROSSING #2

It's that time again.

For more detail on the particulars of the event, be sure to refer to our info and planning post!

always keep moving

— CLOUDS ON THE HORIZON

The Desert is sprawling. If you've ever gotten turned around in the rolling dunes, it may have once felt endless. But in the weeks and days before the descent of The Crossing, something appears on the horizon: first a dark smudge of storm clouds, not unlike the others that have rolled through before, then growing — wider, darker, and more threatening.

You feel it, too. For some of you the feeling is new; for others it's a reminder of a trial you've been through before. It's a weight in your body, a solidity of your self, a vulnerability to whatever is approaching.

The storm overtakes the oasis. As the first drops of rain begin to fall, The Ferryman speaks in your mind.

It's time. Those who are prepared to pay the toll are instructed to gather on the bank of The River. As for the rest of you... we hope you have a plan.

taking refuge

— THE RIVER OF MUD

The storm hits hard and fast. Even as you gather around The Ferryman, the rain grows from spitting droplets to a desert monsoon. The Ferryman's protection only goes so far: even if you're promised safety from danger, you'll still have to cope with the cold, the wind, and the water.

As before, The Lantern's Light grows dark. As before, The Ferryman gathers memories one by one, consolidated into a mote of light in their palm that becomes the new center point for the growing temporary bubble of safety. But this time— what it was too dark to notice in the Cavern before— you realize that The Ferryman themselves is changing, too. Their form fades as the light in their hands grows, becoming as fuzzy and insubstantial as mist... not unlike the wraiths, outside of The Crossing.

The sparkling white salt flat before you begins to melt and grow murky, exposing the sticky, grasping mud beneath. The Ferryman glides out over the roiling muck of The River, and so do you, your steps as light as if there were still a crust of salt to separate you from the mud before.

You must keep moving, though. Linger too long, and you'll start to sink... and the mud might not let go, this time.

— A HAVEN FROM THE WANTS AND ILLS OF LIFE

The journey is arduous, and the storm is unrelenting. The Ferryman, unfamiliar as they might be in this form, leads confidently through the blur of lightning, wind, and rain. As before, the mote of light created from your memories follows in their footsteps, illuminating the path to follow along the wide expanse of The River.

Even with The Ferryman's protection, it is exhausting work. It's as mentally taxing as it is physically draining. As such, when the path forward begins to shudder and shift, it may come as a reprieve. The wall of wind and rain finally breaks, the Desert around you replaced by... somewhere else. A place you may recognize, or may not.

Whatever stress or fear you may have been feeling from your journey wanes, replaced by feelings of calm, peace, or joy. If the place you are in is unfamiliar, the feelings are muted, as if they don't quite belong to you... but surely this is better than returning to the monsoon? Perhaps you can rest a while. Play a game, recover in shelter, or take a meditative walk through a maze. What's a few minutes, anyway? Time hardly means anything anymore.

Just don't forget: if you linger too long in any one place, the mud of The River will start to suck you down. It's best to stay alert— and to keep an eye on those traveling with you, as well.

storm chasers

— SWEPT AWAY

The Desert isn't designed to weather a storm like this one. Beyond the pounding rain and cracking lightning, those of you who have decided to travel without The Ferryman must also navigate the environment itself. Flash floods sweep through lower-lying places in the dunes, where the sand isn't able to absorb water quickly enough. Creatures that may have been docile before are now panicked, and might impede your progress, or even lash out themselves.

And, of course, there are the wraiths.

They're easier to spot this time around, across the rolling dunes. It's easier to make out just how much they've changed as well: the claws, the teeth, the exaggerated proportions... and the unmistakable pain and fury in every movement, in every shriek and wail.

You are vulnerable to any and all injury during this time, whether from the wraiths, the wildlife, or the elements. As long as you follow your gut, you'll know where to go — but we hope you have a strategy, all the same.

— AN EYE IN THE STORM

At least in the Cavern, you had cover. Nooks and crannies, branching tunnels, rocky outcroppings... But out here, beneath the wide-open sky of the Desert, there's very little in terms of shelter. The odd plateau, or cave entrance, or inexplicable feature might grant you some reprieve, but there's always more sand to cross in-between.

On occasion, however, you may spot a strange sort of wraith watching you at a distance. Some of you may even recognize it: an eerie, dissembling creature that some have dubbed the Smart Wraith. Its form, like the others, has solidified into something grotesque and painful, as if its body has been plucked like clay by a particularly spiteful child. Unlike the others, though, it does not attack, or even approach. It simply watches, as it always have.

If you have the presence of mind to notice, however, you may find that there are occasional reprieves from wraith attacks, especially across longer stretches of dunes. They're brief, but often crucially timed (such as when someone is significantly injured, or when a flood has just rolled through), and always correspond to a moment when The Wraith can be found watching from some far-flung vantage point.

It's odd, certainly. But do you have the luxury of looking a gift horse in the mouth?

stormbreak

— CLEARING SKIES

Eventually, the storm calms. Your body lightens. The atmosphere realigns.

The Crossing ends.

The thick, sucking mud of The River has become shallow and waterlogged. It's easy to wade through now, if a touch... unpleasant. Fibrous plants and reeds line the sloped banks, inexplicably dotted with bright orange flowers. Light is low, though the sky has cleared, as if wherever you are now lingers in perpetual dusk.

If you were traveling with The Ferryman, the mirages that dogged your journey finally fade and stay gone. If you were traveling on your own, any wounds you sustained heal rapidly on their own. As before, the healing is natural, but on fast-forward, and thus may not always resolve perfectly.

For both groups, memories bleed away from you - perhaps literally, perhaps not. Anything you found in the Desert, unless given to you by The Ferryman, is gone from your pockets.

When you look again, The Ferryman appears just the same as they were before The Crossing began. Let's take a break, they say. It's been a long journey.

It certainly has.

---

Image credits: 1, 2 + OMORI'S STORY, and stock imagery unless otherwise noted

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Comments

QUESTIONS?

[thecrossingmods]

answers!!

[blindluck]

When the Ferryman transforms, Nagito will ask them if they looked like that during the cavern Crossing as well. Can they answer like that? (That's all he's going to ask when there are other things going on, I don't need a thread haha)

[spaghettimonster]

Is it all items from the Ferryman stick around?

Specifically wondering whether secondhand things, like Makoto-face stickers or pages from a positivity notebook, also do so.

[fantail]

During the break, what happens if Sakuya tries to head a little ways back along the River to look for dropped/hiatused characters? What's the land and weather look like? he'll be too tired to go very far.

Sunny | OMORI | OTA

[solitarynote]

Clouds on the Horizon

[As the roiling darkness of the clouds seem to grow closer and closer, Sunny is more apt to stay inside of the small hut he shares with Mari. Somewhere inside, he’s grateful for the fact that Papyrus had persuaded him to come back to the Oasis before all of this started to occur.

Even if Sunny knew that this wasn’t the end of the world - that he was already dead - it sure looked like that kind of scenario.

Plus… he didn’t like bad weather. Rain was acceptable when it was gentle, but the way the clouds roiled in like an angry observer, threatening to break down the walls of the makeshift hut…

It took a lot for him to make his way back to where the Ferryman stood, even with that incessant tug in his chest. Even though it told him it was time to move on, the teen only did so because he knew that being near the Ferryman was safer than not.]

The River of Mud

[Sunny only briefly hesitates when he gives up his memory. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but Neighbor’s Room had been a part of his safety and dreams for the past four years… it was hard to let go…

And yet, he still did. His voice small as he looks up into the gentle gaze of the Ferryman.]

Please… take care of it…

[Sunny isn’t sure where their memories go once given up. He just remembered the strange and empty relief he felt once he had passed through the cavern and… hopefully it will be the same this time.

As they start their journey across the river of mud, Sunny has no trouble wanting to keep moving. He wants to get out of the storm, maybe noticing someone lingering too long as the mud grasps at their feet and… he doesn’t want that to happen. He’s scared of being left behind this time. It was hard enough finding his way back in the cavern, but here? The storm would make it almost impossible.

He does keep an eye out for those struggling and will do what he can to help, whether assisting in trying to get them unstuck or sending a worried glance their way.

As their trek continues, however, Sunny grows more and more pale - the lack of substantial sunlight in the past four years had already taken its toll, but he’s almost on par with their ghostly neighbors themselves. He shivers every so often, though doesn’t complain, clothing plastered to drenched skin and he’s (once again) grateful that Nagito had the brilliant idea to have him ask for a backpack.

At least the documents within (along with his new sunhat and notebook - complete with his Makoto sticker) would be safe inside…]

Haven: Neighbor’s Room

[One of the safe haven stops along their journey appears more jarringly than the other, more natural memories. One moment, their group is being assaulted with the elements, and the next they find themselves in Neighbor’s Room.

A cheerful tune plays in the background, low and comforting, and there is an overall sense of childhood nostalgia and safety. Bright colors bleed into the previously dismal atmosphere - the room and floor a florescent purple, a sunflower-colored counter along the back wall. A Giant Yellow Cat watches lazily from the edge of the upper wall and ceiling, and the wall clock’s arms spin in a never-ending time. The only way out of the room is via a neon rainbow staircase, each step lighting up like the keys on a child’s piano. If approached, the snake nearby politely slithers in your way. ”Sssstay a while. It’s time to play with your friendssssss.”

There are a few activities that can tide over your time here: a set of playing cards sits in the middle of the floor, a TV is nestled in one corner (it eternally plays the same scene of four children walking on a railroad track), a cat-shaped hole punched through the ground near the staircase (if you look close enough… is that space? The sky beyond is a bright blue-purple, mundane objects such as the outline of a potted plant or a bed float by). There isn’t much in the way of food here: a single bean on a plate and a sometimes-working toaster on the back cabinet, nestled close to a picture of someone familiar to their party: Sunny’s sister, Mari.

The aforementioned teen seems much more relaxed here than any of the other stops so far. He’s willing to play cards with anyone who wants to, or maybe you see him looking with confusion at the sole bean, or… he takes a small nap beneath the tree at the corner of the room.

When he tries to approach the steps, the snake says much the same, except with an addition: ”OMORI, it isn’t time to leave yet. Sssstay.” He pouts at that.

When it comes time to leave, however… Sunny doesn’t want to. He’s shaking his head, watching as some of their party is let out, one by one, up the rainbow staircase. A slight frown tilts the corners of his mouth down, and he seems unaware of the mud slowly seeping through the floorboards.]

Clearing Skies

[One way or another, Sunny does leave Neighbor’s Room behind. He’s somewhat sullen the rest of the trip, silent (more so than usual) and he keeps glancing behind them as they continue on, almost like he could catch glimpses of the familiar room through the storm.

That isn’t possible. The mud swallows all, including their safe memory.

As the storm breaks and the River once again forms into a soft current, Sunny can be found observing the bright orange flowers.

When he finally finds a dry-ish spot to sit down in, pulling out his notebook, the perpetual light of dusk doesn’t seem to bother him. Sure, it’s harder to draw, and maybe that might be what is impeding his progress but…

If you approach to check on him, Sunny’s pencil has only made the outline sketches of a room, its interior blank and devoid of color.

He seems distressed. What… what did the room look like…?]

neighbor's room

[blindluck]

[Nagito feels like he's walked into a cartoon. It's disorienting enough that it takes a few moments for him even to catch the mood of this place. It's a feeling he isn't very familiar with, though--or one that he hasn't felt since he was really very young. Even before he's entirely given up his chosen childhood memory it feels foreign to him.

Nagito spends time here looking around, testing out the television, looking at the photograph of Mari, and generally approaching this as if he were hunting down clues in an investigation. Sometimes, he watches Sunny, gears turning in his mind. Nagito lingers around the edges of the space, as he often does.

But now people are leaving, and his shoes are a little slippery from encroaching mud. He pushes off of the wall and sidles up to Sunny.] It's time to keep moving, Sunny-kun.

the river of mud

[witnessvelama]

[Celehar hasn't fallen behind, this time - he might look like some sort of animal dragged out of the river, with the rainwater plastering his pale hair against his face and head, but the weight of the sodden water soaking into his clothes is an inconvenience, not the full, heavy weight that settled over him the first crossing, as those voices started to call out.

Bowed against the winds, he nevertheless sees Sunny's attention lifting to scan the little crowd of their group as they walk over the morass of mud - and sees, too, when the young man starts going elf-pale. He catches the shiver and angles his steps, to slip in next to the young man, reaching out to rest a hand on Sunny's shoulder in silent momentary support.]

Clearing Skies

[spaghettimonster]

[It takes a little while, after they reach the reeds and flowers, before the skeleton approaches Sunny. Partly because he needs to settle down after all the wind and rain trying to push them out of the Ferryman's radius. And partly... Well, partly because he had noticed that change in demeanor, and he'd rationalized to himself that quiet, sullen humans need their space.

Eventually, though, the rationalization no longer holds up. Once he treks through the mud and fibrous greenery to join the teen, he peers through the dim light with a practiced squint, trying to make sense of the art. With a tilt of his head, the few strokes seem to make the shape of a room...]

Hmmm... Not sketching the flowers? I suppose they're not going anywhere, while we did see a lot of places on that walk...

clearing skies, because let's just do Every Thread

[blindluck]

[Nagito sits down carefully next to Sunny, peering at his notebook. He points to the upper right corner of the room.] The staircase was here. It was multicolored, like a rainbow. There was a tree there. [Nagito points to the upper left corner.] And a table here. [He points again.] There was a plate on the table with one bean on it...?

[He knows that's what it was, but he doesn't understand why it was.]

Haven: Neighbor’s Room

[knockingatthedoor]

[Kel feels sick to his stomach- the way the place looks like their old treehouse but also is different enough not to be it makes him feel like he stepped into some kind of uncanny valley treehouse and no matter wht, Kel cannot figure out WHY for Sunny would pick 'this' over their treasured place.

He didn't stop in Hobbeez, no point in being sad and lingering over something that soon is no longer going to mean anything to him, but this? He's taking every bit in, he's trying to understand. The picture of Mari makes him stop, that's for sure, but it's not the only thing that gives Kel reasons to think.

The Cat. It's the messy, half broken down orange cat of the playground, isn't it? The way that snake (very weird bit, to be honest) speaks to Sunny and calls him Omori- like the piano? It's all so confusing. Even the cards on the floor are prepared for four players even if it's just them. The tree? Why the heck is that weird tree INSIDE the house instead of out? Not to mention the bright colors are giving him a headache.

They still need to go on, move further, he's just taking his own duty to remember for Sunny very seriously as he takes in every small detail he can. At least it'll not be the worst, considering it's both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.]

Hey, Omoriboy... [He finally comments, approaching his friend. Part of him does wonder how he'll react to the name] It's very funny to play games here, but I think it's time to go.

The River of Mud

[urtitan]

[Frieda, too, is shivering, her simple dress and robe thoroughly drenched, and she regrets not having asked the Ferryman for protective outerwear - but of course, the desert's usual dry heat disincentivised all of them from that. Now, she has nothing to offer to Sunny.]

Are you alright, Sunny? If you'd like me to carry your backpack for a while, let me know.

[If he gets tired, she won't be able to carry him this time - their combined weight would make moving through the mud all the harder.]

Haven: Neighbor's Room

[perfecttune]

[One moment they were in their backyard- having a picnic, enjoying the warm sunny breeze... they next she was in somewhere unfamiliar... Or... maybe it was familiar in a way? The layout, along with the placement of certain items, and was that her picture over there?

Aww... this must be Sunny's...

It would be almost ironic if this wasn't their treehouse, given what matched up with her memory. It just wasn't normally this... colorful.

Seeing her brother interact with the objects made her smile. She carefully walked over to him, picking up a card.]

Mind if I join?

[blindluck]

A; Clouds on the Horizon [closed to Yashiro, plus Hanako if he wants to interrupt]

[Nagito watches as everyone separates themselves out. Those going with the Ferryman, those going it alone--the groups are roughly what he expected. (Makoto still missing.) He hadn't been sure which way Yashiro and Hanako were going to go, though; apparently Shepard and Dankovsky hadn't been able to convince Yashiro to change her mind.

Which is fine, theoretically. Even if she looks very small next to everyone else. Everyone should be allowed to choose their own path. Ferryman or alone, either route confronts adversity, and Nagito believes you should do that.

But, he finally reasons to himself, ignoring the confused unease of his feelings in favor of more comprehensible logic, not without knowing what she's getting into.]

Yashiro-san! [Nagito smiles at her cheerfully.] This is your first Crossing, so I wanted to make sure of something--tell me how you think it will go, so I can clear up any misconceptions.

B; The River of Mud, A Ferryman of Mist
[Nagito has zipped up his hoodie and put the hood up. It makes him look a little eerie in the shifting light of the storm; bright smudges of white and dark shadows press close together on his face, and the uneven edge of the bottom hem catches the wind in uneven ways. But Nagito himself seems calm enough. Calm and willing to chatter.]

So, Ferryman-san really is a spirit! It wasn't as if I doubted it, but this sort of visual confirmation is really interesting, don't you think?

C; The River of Distraction
[Nagito is usually more talkative than this. Even during the last Crossing, while his talking had been increasingly manic, he'd only stopped talking right before he'd snapped entirely. But he doesn't look manic right now, for anyone who might be worrying about that--he simply looks distracted. Looking out into the horizon in all directions, squinting through the rain, taking advantage of any shift in the light to pause briefly to really look around.

He lingers too long, sometimes, and his shoes slide in the mud, coming up only with a gross schlorp sound. Sometimes he doesn't even notice until the mud is threatening his socks, simply standing there with his arms wrapped around himself.]

It's--not as if Naegi-sama can't walk through a storm. [He reasons, quiet. He's been looking for Makoto this entire time.]

D; A Haven from the Wants and Ills of Life
[Nagito stumbles up short when the wind dies abruptly, his muddy boots thumping down hard on tatami mats. It's stupid, given the circumstances, but guilt about having his shoes on inside strikes him before anything else does.

But then he recognizes where he is. He's cleaned this room himself hundreds of times, replaced the mats as necessary, made sure every decoration was in its place. This was part of his house, after all. He stands very still, looking at the low table and the pile of books. All things he read years and years ago, of course. The house feels so calm. Soothing and safe, like someone is just out of sight taking care of things in his place.]

Ah, I forgot it ever felt like this here.

E; Clearing Skies...?
[The storm has broken. Nagito wades silently through the reeds--impressively so, picking his steps so he disturbs as little as possible. He's slowed to a crawl now that things are over, but that shouldn't matter when everyone will need to rest regardless. He slides through the reeds like a ghost.]

He should be up ahead, somewhere...

[Again, it's not the Crossing that preoccupies him but Makoto's disappearance. He's banking on Shepard's example. Makoto will be in their new location, whatever it might be exactly.]

[blindluck]

[Don't reply to this comment; this is for if I need to add more prompts later!]

[hasapoint]

waiting in the rain
[Any apprehension on Need's part is masked behind focus and bright-eyed interest, even eagerness. No sense in flinching away from this, and - she reminds herself - she does want to see what happens next. She's brought out a green-and-tan cloak with a winglike pattern and pulled it close around her body, though the light fabric tries to whip this way and that in the wind. She walks restlessly about, looking into the faces of the people showing up at the River's edge.]

Try to stay close. It's going to be hard to tell if anyone's lagging.

[or, if she thinks they're not going to Cross with the group:]

Well. Good luck. 'Least it's not a sandstorm, eh?

the gryphons' lair
[This place is in the middle of a ruin. Buildings made of some dark stonelike material were leveled and their pieces scattered and half-melted in places by some terrible force, a long time ago. The ruins extend to mingle with old forest and swamp some ways from here, but here the dark pavement is still mostly intact and so the only living plants are weeds and grass. Some industrious and quite large souls have hauled stone and wood and living vine to make a simple, massive house, with a rough rawhide 'door' pinned open. There are three rooms, each quite substantial, whose 'furniture' is stone blocks set up like a few low tables or benches, and nests about the size of a king bed, made from sweet-smelling woven grass. There are also feathers, buff and banded in brown and bronze, ranging from bits of fluff to hand-sized contour feathers to a few primaries up to four feet long, scattered about outside or incorporated in the grass inside.

As for how it feels, the ways Need experienced the world as a sword are strange. She relied on the senses and emotions of the people around her, often several people at the same time. In this memory there were seven living adults present but thankfully for legibility an onlooker not used to that kind of perception will only be able to pick up on two 'tracks'. Mostly one. Need's emotions are hard to follow in comparison to the brighter, stronger impressions of someone else. Some people might only get her side - a distant relief and a sense of temporary reprieve, annoyance, a swell of warmth and care for something young and small and very brave.

Others pick up on some echo of total, full-bodied exhaustion, to the point where it might be a good idea to sit or lean on something. Then, the touch of Need's mind - old enough to be different and distant, all but alien, but cynical and calculating and very strong, carefully controlled to cause no pain as it grips and slides like a sharp knife into mind and memories. Then the remote cynicism dissolves, like a sigh, like honey in tea, into... an ache. Compassion, and then more than compassion, a feeling of concern and care and love, truly, despite everything. Being gathered unto her and enveloped in her wings, sheltered like a child for several long moments as strength and vigor return.

Need lets out a long breath.]
...He's a good boy.

after the rain
[Need wades through the watery mud, making a headcount and looking about at the changed scenery. She's tired, but not as much as after the last Crossing, it's not painful to keep going. At some point she might pause and pull off her coif - her hairline is starting to recede - to wring it out, squeeze some of the rainwater out of her gray hair, and tie it back. She raises her eyebrows at anyone she catches looking.]
So you made it. Congratulations.

wildcard
[Something else? She'll try to ride herd again and find stragglers, but it's harder to find them in this weather.]

the gryphons' lair

[blindluck]

[This Crossing is very interesting, moreso than the last one. He can focus a lot more clearly this time, even if Makoto's absence weighs heavily in the back of his mind. Forest, swamp, and ruins--it's a little like he walked into a fantasy novel. There's the tug of two emotional tracks here; Nagito can nudge them aside, at first. He got some practice in earlier helping the Ferryman. Nagito reaches to pick up one of the four-feet wings. He's about to ask around to see whose memory this is and ask about the creature when the emotional atmosphere here stops him.

Compassion, which he almost doesn't recognize. Love, which he touches he's handling fire. Acceptance of what he is, which--

Nagito wraps his arms around himself, laughing uneasily.] Ah, emotions like these are almost too much. [They're not his, and not for him. They never could be.]

Mari | Omori | OTA

[perfecttune]

Clouds on the Horizon

[While Mari was used to the ever unpredictable weather by now in the desert, she certainly hadn't expected the storm clouds that hung over the Oasis. She certainly didn't blame Sunny- or anyone else for that matter- who chose to stay inside till the Crossing. Once again the familiar weight of being... well I guess one would say whole, vulnerable settled over her like a wet blanket. Surely that meant another Crossing was near?]

You think we'll be ok? I mean... with the Ferryman's protection we shouldn't have to worry about the elements right?

[While she had been basing that solely on the last one where they glided over the water, she wasn't entirely sure. But time waited for no one even when dead so she set about gathering what little supplies she could. Even if they were fated to vanish later on, they could at least use them now...]

The River of Mud

[She, like the others who chose to go with the Ferryman, had all gathered and given up their memory for protection. That in itself wasn't what was strange... as the light that was meant to be their Protection brightened, the Ferryman's appearance changed. Mari supposed she shouldn't have been surprised but she did feel shock when she saw the faded form. After all... the Ferryman wasn't like them...]

Do you suppose... they were once human? [She mumbled, remembering that the Wraiths had once been like them. Perhaps the Ferryman had been too? Alas any other questions would have to wait.

And how wrong she had been. While they were protected from the Wraiths, the elements still plagued them, making their journey that more difficult. Every few steps, Mari had to pull hard to try to remove her feet from the muck. She kept an eye on the others and helped those best she could.

Clearly this wasn't going to be easy...]

A Haven from the Wants and Ills of Life

[One moment they were in the desert, the next and Mari blinked and stopped. The landscape had changed to something extremely familiar to her... and most likely to Sunny as well... Lush green grass and trees surrounded them, the warm sunlight beating down. Scattered about where various logs and tools and ahead a half completed treehouse. She was sure if she looked behind her she would see their house...

Ah... so it's the backyard this time...

[But clearly this was before their treehouse had been completely built or maybe more accurate to say this was the day of? While her friends were clearly not here, she couldn't mistake what was happening. After all... before the treehouse, the backyard had been their playground-and her sanctuary. If things became too much, she would come out and relax under a tree, reading a book or napping in the shade...

And over there should be...

She instinctually glanced over to the second biggest tree, where a red and white checkered blanket was laid out along with her picnic basket... how she missed those days... maybe for just a short while they could rest? Her feet were already carrying her over to the blanket and she sat down- relishing in the peace and quiet.]

Clearing Skies

[It was over...

they had made it through the Crossing and Mari just stood in the water. Sure it was unpleasant but she just took a moment to stand and think. She had been doing something right? Somewhere she classified as safe? But the longer she thought about it, the more confused she became. So she instead began wading towards the shore, trying not to trample any plants in her way and get to dry land. A smile did appear when she saw the familiar orange flowers, although whether they were the same ones that her and Kel had scattered would remain a mystery for now. After helping those who seemed to be struggling or just making sure they were ok, she sat down on the grass.

Rest sounded like a good idea... and before she knew it, her eyes had closed and she was dozing.]

Wildcard

[As always if you would like to interact with Mari in a different way feel free to throw something here! :) I'm always up for more fun and shenanigans!]

A Haven from the Wants and Ills of Life

[blindluck]

[This place is nice. No rain pouring down on them, with sunlight that isn't as harsh as the desert. Nagito peeks at the half finished tree house, though he doesn't attempt to climb the tree and see how much of it might be finished inside. It might not be a very notable location, except he remembers Kel talking about maybe giving up a treehouse memory. Kel said the others would be able to remind him of it. Nagito has been working at the knot of Sunny, Mari, and Kel's situation--especially Sunny and Mari's situation.

Seeing Mari on the picnic blanket, he approaches carefully, keeping a deliberate distance. He remains on the grass.]

Is this your memory, or Kel-kun's? [He knows it's not Sunny's.]

Thara Celehar | Ferryman Group

[witnessvelama]

Clouds on the Horizon

So much for the effectiveness of the sun hats - as the winds and rain begin to sweep in Celehar retrieves it, but is soon forced to pin it against his chest instead, least it be blown away entirely. He does not immediately set off for the Ferryman, and the dry Riverbank - in fact, he turns away from it, setting off towards the remainder of the houses scattered around where the others have taken shelter. He's been conscientious about not entering the ones the others have claimed, since the spaces were delineated.

Not so now. Celehar does the courtesy of knocking, but he does not let it stop him from peeking inside, his braid already letting curls spill around his face. When he finds a familiar face there, he says, in his usual gravelly tone, "It is time."

But to those he knows are intending to make the trip on their own, Celehar's expression takes a turn for the grim, pinching between brows and at the corners of his mouth as he meets their eye. To them, he says after his first pronouncement, "I must beg you to reconsider."

The River of Mud

The storm is a terrible sweeping force when it descends on them. It is not the first time Celehar has weathered this, the first having been a trip out into the desert with Yusuke and Frieda with their fragments of the lantern. Their trip then should have felt more dangerous than this now, since they were hunting out lightning, but here, with the storm they have to walk through already dropping enough rain to plaster their hair to their heads and leave them heavy and half-blind with the water? It is its own kind of danger.

The pelting downpour isn't enough to keep Celehar from seeing the way the Ferryman's form goes insubstantial, hard but not impossible to see when the lantern-light flickers away. His eyes go momentarily wide, and he cuts a glance to the side, checking in a moment of weakness that he is not the only one who has seen it.

Haven: the maze

It's the nature of a maze that one simultaneously walks it, and yet does not move past it. When Celehar first finds his feet carrying him down the familiar dirt-worn path of the Orshaneise corn maze.

It's not an intimidating path, in truth - the path does not branch, merely winds its way through the center. There are no plants there to hide the white bowl at the center. If one wanted, they could walk a straight line to the center, walk past it, even. Ignore the bowl of tokens set at the center - smooth white pebbles in a bowl, in the midst of the ground marked out with a cross in another line of white pebbles.

Celehar does not walk past. He treads the line of the maze, following the divot in the dirt where so many others have also walked. The sky overhead is a clear, vivid blue, and Celehar with his hair frizzed damp by the rain and his dark coat sodden stands out against it like a scarecrow, until he comes around a twist and spots another figure there, standing along the edge. "Would you like to join me?" he asks. His voice is a rasp as always, but some of the eternal tension to his shoulders seems to have eased, somewhat. There's a gentle ease to this place, a quiet that fills the air. No hustle and bustle, no raging storm - nothing to do but walk the curves of the maze, or step over it, to meet him where he stands halfway through.

[ooc: feel free to tag in with material that isn't on these prompts, whether that's a piece of the crossing or post-crossing! Also I'm happy to swap to brackets.]

The Maze

[solitarynote]

Sunny, of course, gets lost in the maze at first. Even though he entered in a line with those traveling after the Ferryman, he still gets momentarily lost.

But… Celehar had mentioned this place before, and with it the path that most people trod. That gave the teen some amount of comfort, and after finding said dirt-worn path, he also finds the elf that had mentioned it.

“This is…?” Sunny looks around before his gaze settles on Celehar, wanting to make sure.

(Papyrus) | Undertale

[spaghettimonster]

💀 CLOUDS ON THE HORIZON
[With all the insights of following the river, of looking to the sky for circling birds or making note of the colors of the sand, wandering the desert with a phone in his pocket hasn't seemed much of a problem. It's given the skeleton an outlet for some of his restless energy, for the moments when he wants to grieve and doesn't want to share those emotions with anyone else. He's enjoyed it.

But in recent days he's been keeping the wanderings briefer and nearer to the oasis, given the estimate of the upcoming Crossing, the better to beeline once it becomes clear it's upon them. And for all he's exchanged half-joking, half-stressed comments with No.7 about the sixth sense of the crossing that they'd all be picking up... He laughs and exchanges a look with whoever's nearest.]

Wow, I really feel it. That tug in my ribcage... and those clouds. I didn't know clouds could feel so ominous, or make the air so heavy.

[Is it the air, though? In some ways it feels more like being alive than he's felt this whole time, in a dozen little ways that had slipped his mind after swimming out of the River's mud.]


💀 OVERSHADOWED MEMORIES
[In the weeks - or months? - since being helped from the mud, the skeleton's heard a bit about the tolls, and read much of the network conversation on them. He's hesitated to contribute to it, not sure what to think or say... especially after hearing that the Ferryman wants them to give up their attachments to their lives.

The question of what to give up has given him pause, too. He does still feel attached to his life, maybe because he was cut off from it so abruptly, but mostly... There was so much to do to occupy himself, so many people he could interact with, books he could read, artistical pursuits to follow. He's joked about counting grains of sand, but it really is harder to find new things to care about and invest himself in when there's so few people and so few things to interact with, besides wandering the sands!

So when The Ferryman approaches him for a memory, the skeleton first thinks of the Snowdin Librarby, and his occasional visits there - the stories and histories and instruction guides, the sense of order in their color-based organization, the unaddressed typo of the sign. It's fond memories, but... the light doesn't quite form, the memories lacking the emotion needed to coalesce for this toll.]

Oh, um... I'll think a little longer! Just... give me a minute.

[Maybe the Ferryman agrees to move to the others first while the skeleton collects himself, maybe your character has a chance to check about what the hold-up is. The storm is fast approaching, and they all only have so much time.]


💀 THE RIVER OF MUD
[After offering up the memory of making his battle body, he's freshly reminded of his outfit and the benefits of it. Things like having tall boots when they're walking across the mud, to protect his feet from getting coated. very slightly starting to sink in when he stops too long to look around at the changing scenery or examine one of the strange pockets of space.]

Hey... Who asked for, water, and cold? I just want to say... Please ask for better weather next time.

[He's mostly joking, and not actually blaming the people who'd offered guesses and wishes for their destination. It's not as though skeletons are as bothered by the temperature as other people, lacking skin or muscles to react poorly to the temperatures. But after all the time where sensations were a little more distant than he realized, he's a little more aware of the cold than he's used to being.]


💀 HAVEN: ███████'S BEDROOM
[One of the times that the path shudders and shifts to push the wind and rain to the sides, giving way to Somewhere Else... Well, it's not raining there. Instead, outside the window a wall, there's a dusting of snow falling over a similarly snowy forest and river, with occasional chunks of ice floating downstream. The trees are pine, and the colors are dimly blue in a strange way - unless one looks out and up enough to see solid stone overhead, with a haze that doesn't quite obscure the occasional glowing blue, purple, and pink crystals.

The room itself is overwhelmingly a low-saturation red, with a blue-purple zigzag carpet covering the floor, and then another rug with flame edges in the middle. The old desktop computer on a desk before the window, tower on the floor... The bookshelf, not organized by color or topic - a mix of old children's books and various technical guides to building puzzles (with all the mechanical and electrical skill that goes into them). The table, covered in action figures of varying condition, some of them newer and somewhat sexily designed robots... and mostly pushed aside from their usual positions, as there's cuts of fabric and a pair of oddly basketball-looking shoulder pads sitting there, pinned in position but only partially sewn up.

Beside it the racecar bed, sized more for an adult than a kid, made as neatly as if someone almost never sleeps in it, and not a single food stain to be seen - but more cuts of fabric, and scissors, and a sewing kit atop the pillow. There's no chair in the room, as though its resident is a little too restless to spend much time sitting when he could be standing, or pacing. And, in case visitors hadn't yet guessed whose room this is - there's also a box of bones by one of the doors, and a crossbones flag hung on the opposite corner's wall.]

Oh!! I... I didn't realize... Heh.

[As the relaxation of the reprieve from the Crossing settles in, the skeleton relaxes, turning to take in the familiar sight. The other emotions trickling in, if secondhand for others stepping into this space... Anticipatory excitement, like looking forward to showing off. Hints of surprise, and happiness, and the warm feeling of having help that wasn't entirely expected but very welcome. A general sense of refuge, a place where he doesn't usually feel the need to keep up appearances.]

Nyeh heh heh! I should have realized I would at least get to see this place again. What a relief.


💀 [Network]: CHECKING IN
un: CoolSkeleton95

HELLO EVERYONE ELSE!
I HOPE THIS MESSAGE FINDS YOU NOT OVERWHELMED BY WRAITHS.
HOW ARE YOUR TREKS GOING?


💀 CLEARING SKIES
[The journey was a lot, and focusing on the details of it just adds to the slightly overwhelmed feeling, so he doesn't. Instead he focuses on their new surroundings, taking in the scenery.

The lingering dimness, the muddy shallow waters and the reeds with occasional colorful flowers... He squints upwards, but can't quite make out whether there's crystal-studded stone above or more open sky. It reminds him of Waterfall, in any case.]

I hope we don't find any echo flowers. Or... predict flowers.

[Being orange instead of blue, who knows - maybe they'd have the opposite effect of echo flowers, and announce what people are about to say rather than what someone just said.]

[REDACTED]'s bedroom

[blindluck]

[Nagito is immediately drawn to the bookcase. He starts pulling out books to briefly page through their contents, though he's always careful to put them back where he got them, even if there doesn't appear to be any particular organization method. He's inherently worthless as a person, but he's not an animal. After pulling out his fourth puzzle manual, some of the technical details of which are nigh-incomprehensible to him, he turns to the skeleton, book still in hand.]

Did you build these sorts of things?

Frieda Reiss | Attack on Titan

[urtitan]

1) Always Keep Moving

[When the storm that had grown over the last few days finally rolls over the oasis with its dark grumbling clouds, Frieda takes shelter, despite the growing physicality she can sense in her body and the unrest in her mind. She knows what those sensations mean, but even so, when the Ferryman calls her along with everyone else, she at first can't believe it. They'll 'cross' during the storm?! Can it not wait?

Despite her misgivings, she arrives at the riverbank where everybody is gathering, and once more, she tries to convince those determined to go on their own:]

Please reconsider. This is the largest storm since we arrived here; it'll be dangerous.

[Among those set to go with the Ferryman, she'll invite anyone who looks nervous:]

If you'd like, we can walk together.

[I'll protect you as much as I can.]

2) Taking Refuge

A) The River of Mud

[Despite having tried to steel herself for what's to come, Frieda is unprepared for the weather. Before long, her white clothes and black hair are drenched and sticking to her, and when the Ferryman's lantern goes out, the darkness makes it feel like night is already falling under the heavy black clouds.

Giving up her toll - the memory of a place that gave her solace - and observing her fellow souls doing the same, the change in the Ferryman greatly alarms her. Did this happen the last time too?! The group's concerned inquiries only earn them calm reassurance from their guide, along with an urge to go, and so, the Crossing begins.

Walking on the river, Frieda notices the increasing muddiness with growing concern. So far, they can still walk briskly, but they must stay in motion. Should she notice anyone struggling, she'll lend them a hand.]

Hurry! Don't let yourself sink!

B) A Haven from the Wants and Ills of Life

[As the journey through the raging storm continues, Frieda feels miserable. She can sense the icy cold and wetness as if she were still alive, and she desperately wishes for a repose from the exhausting struggle - and just as she thinks that, the thick rainfall opens like a curtain, leading into golden fields of crops.

Stepping into the sunny acres, she feels a recognition that's almost painful in its nostalgia. These are her family's lands in the Walls, recognisable to her in every rock and tree. It's a beautiful late summer day, the sun in the blue sky warming her cold, wet skin. Her voice is choked up as she speaks.]

To end up here... I didn't expect this.

[After all, during the last Crossing, they all only heard the voices from their memories - this feels so real, so whole. She half expects to see the familiar peasant men and women at work - but it seems like she and whichever fellow soul sought shelter alongside her are the only ones here.]

3) Stormbreak

[Eventually, Frieda's body, once again miserably cold after having to leave behind any sheltering memory, stops shivering. Her exhaustion, too, feels less overwhelming, less like she'll collapse from it. As the storm falls behind them and the river's mud becomes covered by water, the knows that once more, she's made it through the Crossing. But have the others?

Taking in the reeds and flowers on the riverbank, her eyes focus on her fellow souls. Is everyone who went with the Ferryman accounted for? What of the others? If nothing else, it's a relief to see the Ferryman's appearance back to what they're all used to. Waiting for any stragglers to arrive (and perhaps even heading back to look for them), Frieda checks on her peers, be they injured or tired or seemingly fine.]

Are you alright?

2B

[blindluck]

[Another outdoor scene. Nagito pulls down his hood, letting the sun dry the hair that's plastered itself to the sides of his face. Of course, he doubts they'll be able to stay long enough for it to complete the job.]

This is your world, then, Frieda-san?

Daniil Dankovsky | Pathologic | OTA

[marblenest]

[ Clouds on the Horizon ]

Dankovsky gathers with the others. He's wearing his snakeskin coat, one which he hasn't worn in months, but will not be leaving behind under any circumstances, and he also has his brand new carpet bag in one hand with his cane in the other.

Very faintly he is trembling in fear. He can see the clouds rolling in. There's something primal inside Dankovsky which is begging him to reconsider.

But no. He isn't one to give into instincts. He must stay rational and calm.

For science, there must be risks.


[ Swept Away ]

The Bachelor does his best to stick to the plan. Stick nearby Urameshi. Let him take the brunt of the attacks. Try to stay safe.

With Frieda's gift it should have been full proof.

Yet with Yashiro there, that small helpless girl, the Bachelor finds himself distracted.

Distracted enough to get sideswiped by a single branch torn asunder in the storm's wake. A scratch across Dankovsky's face. He feels blood trickle into the corner of his mouth.

It barely registers in his mind that he's failed. The adrenaline has overtaken him. He has to keep going. No matter what.


[ Eye in the Storm ]

The brief break is enough to have Dankovsky take a moment to assess who is near him and see if anyone around him is in need of any medical attention.

The small scratch is visible across his cheek, it's shallow, but still an injury. Dankovsky doesn't seem to be taking notice of it, yet.

Once he's made sure everyone is in good health that he can get to, he'll notice the Wraith off in the distance, simply staring. He doesn't have the time to, but he wishes he could make a note in his notebook about the creature. It seems as if there's different sorts of Wraiths to contend with and the Bachelor isn't sure this one will stay friendly.

If you can call staring ominously friendly. Perhaps it's more of a predator, just waiting for them all to become injured enough to pounce.

He puts the thought out of his mind. It won't help him. Not now.


[ Clearing Skies ]

Dankovsky collapses at the end of another hard Crossing, though this time out of exhaustion, and not from heavy injury. For a moment, he thinks he may have actually pulled it off.

But then he remembers. The single scratch on his cheek. The sting. The bit of blood.

Surely the scratch wasn't even deep enough to leave a scar, and it's not as if he can check, but with just a single bit of carelessness, he has failed everyone.

He lets himself fall back into the orange flowers. Dankovsky stares up into the sky. He's not even sure what memory he's been robbed of yet, though time will tell. He realizes he'll have to tell the others he's failed, and oh how they will mock him. It's enough to make him not want to bother getting up and making the rest of the journey.

So the Bachelor lays there, putting one hand over his eyes. Perhaps he'll just sleep here. Let himself be left behind. That would suit him just fine.

Clearing Skies

[blindluck]

Nagito isn't so tired this time--nor does he look like some part of him wants to crawl out of his own skin--so he can approach Dankovsky with his tongue held mostly in check. Mostly, because what he starts with is:

"All your limbs are intact this time."

Which in Nagito's head counts as neutral to positive. There are no obvious injuries on Dankovsky the he can see, at least, but wilting into the flower bed doesn't really make him look victorious.

Cmdr Allynbee Shepard |Mass Effect| OTA

[callsignhornet]

CLOUDS ON THE HORIZON
Commander Allynbee Shepard is a great many things and does her very best to be the person the situation requires.

But right now, in lieu of weapons to check, a chain of command or anything resembling a plan, she waits. Her fingers twitch every now and again, a fidget suppressed and she does a headcount yet again: Dankovsky, Uremeshi, Shirogane, Hanako, Yashiro and herself.

Is she enough? Uremeshi seems fully intent on doing his own thing and considering he's made it through The Crossing before - Allynbee is willing to leave well enough alone. That still leaves four heads and her own neck to keep safe.

Shit.

SWEPT AWAY (cw: arm injury)

Shepard takes the rear when the group moves and does her best to keep folks from becoming stragglers. They can't afford to lag, not with so many eyes, animal and worse, on them.

The rain isn't helping and she uses her irritation to keep herself and anyone moving. The only way out is through - at least, that's what she tells herself as she moves. Step by squelching step. Wait.

Squelching?

She looks at her feet and her gaze follows the flow to its origin point - a rapidly developing, and failing, sandbar. Deserts can't handle water like this and she knows that they're quite literally, racing against time. Or maybe it's just the water.

"GET TO HIGH GROUND!"

All it takes is seconds, but she's hustling anyone who'll listen forward as she points out a dune ahead that buys them a few precious feet of altitude.

Running on sand is hell and wet sand isn't any better but they have to get up before the water gets any higher than her ankles.

Four heads plus her, they'll make it.

Shins.

Three to go.

Calves. Two.

She feels the sand give way to muck under one of her ankles and she pitches to her left. The last person ahead of her clears the waterline.

"Keep going! I'm right behi—"

A surge of water hits her legs so hard her knees buckle. She twists as the water drags her several feet and she can't help the pained shout she makes when it pins her to a large rock. The water rushes over her, leaving her sputtering through the pain. She's battered by water for what feels like an eternity, but she knows better - it's minutes at most.

And just as suddenly, the flood recedes, leaving her wincing as she pushes away from the awkward position the water forced her into.

AN EYE IN THE STORM

The first break post flood, Allynbee can be seen turning her jacket into a makeshift sling, hissing once in pain as she adjusts it. Likely the rotator cuff or something near it. A pain in the ass injury to get.

Once she's as together as she can get herself, she can be found taking some kind of watch, particularly paying attention to the Smart Wraith and not liking one bit that it's paying them such close attention.

CLEARING SKIES

As things settle, Allynbee keeps to herself, working her shoulder to keep from losing any range of motion. She keeps scanning the horizon, as if expecting something to appear. They're allegedly in the clear, but the commander can't relax not until they find shelter or something reasonable to hole up in. Take stock of who was injured, if anyone lost anything important.

Basically, she's zoning out.

Clearing Skies

[urtitan]

[Frieda, having made it through the Crossing unharmed (though she got drenched to the bone and lost her sandals in the clinging, cloying mud), comes over to Allynbee. her white clothing still wet and dirty. At a glance, the Commander seems among those worst-hit in her group, and Frieda worries.]

Shepard, how are you?

[Her eyes scan her body - no blood, as far as she can see. Was it the storm rather than the wraiths? Or was there something else coming for them out in the tempest?]

Hanako | TBHK | OTA

[toilet_bound]

Clouds on the Horizon

It was a strange thing - feeling alive.

Hanako didn’t realize it at first, as the literal pull he felt tugging at him like an insistent Yorishiro occupied most of his attention… but it slowly sunk in.

The weight in his limbs, the way the breeze brushed against him. It had been so long since he had felt like this… and when the first raindrops hit, he held out his hand to catch one.

“Huh…” Hanako… didn’t like it. He felt vulnerable, and while there were things that could still harm him as a ghost, there were decidedly less than if he would have been alive.

The boy couldn’t let this deter him. In fact, when the group gathered and the rain drops turned into a verifiable downpour, Hanako simply smiles.

“It’s just a little rain~!” He’s soaked. He’s smiling. Maybe it truly hasn’t sunk in yet.

Swept Away

Well, at least the intel he had gathered before the Crossing was proving to be true. As Hanako kept most of his attention on Yashiro - on making sure she remained safe - he also found himself observing what he could… which was decidedly difficult with the storm.

Visibility wasn’t the greatest, the terrain kept getting swept away or muddied underfoot, and more than once Hanako himself had almost fallen down an unstable dune.

In fact… the first time it happened, Hanako hadn’t realized. He had been keeping an eye on his assistant - on her footing, on making sure she didn’t slip like her own clumsy self - and so hadn’t been paying attention to his own. When he felt the rock and sand beneath his right foot give way, there wasn’t enough time for him to right himself…

The boy let out a shout of surprise as he felt himself tumble down the soggy dune. He hit… something, his world spinning for a moment, before he stood up. No lingering pain (and yet he hadn’t realized the consequence of such a small thing).

“Ah, I’m alright! Nothing broken, see~?”

The Wraiths added a discordant background to the whole ordeal. The ghostly specters didn’t seem hindered by the storm, which aided in hiding them, and Hanako found himself almost jealous…

Especially as he let out a sneeze.

“Achoo! …it really has been a long time since the rain touched me… I don’t think I missed it…” A slight frown accompanied the shiver. Hopefully the noise didn’t attract any unwelcome guests… or destabilize another part of the already tumultuous desert…

Eye of the Storm

When they had a small reprieve, Hanako found himself sitting alone (even if they had all been more or less reunited in the aftermath of several slip ups and flash floods). Exhaustion as… whatever he was now weighed much heavier than when he had been dead, and while some part of him had expected that, it still was an inward shock.

Feeling the gaze of someone nearby, he plasters a smile to his face. “You should probably get some rest while we can, even if it’s just sitting.”

The boy’s gaze trails to the strange Wraith in the distance, so unlike the others. “It seems our ghostly neighbors are willing to leave us for the time being.” Unless this one attacked too.

Clearing Skies

Hanako couldn’t help it. As soon as the storm receded and they caught back up with the second group, he seemed to (quite dramatically) flop into a bed of the orange flowers lining their path.

He hadn’t taken what might qualify for a nap in fifty years and now… now he simply wanted to do just that.

Did they succeed? Did they fail? Everyone was (more or less) still here, as far as he could tell from a cursory glance, so… the more complex answers could wait for later.

(Or… if you approach him, he will talk.)

Wildcard

(Want to plan something else? Feel free to put a starter or connect with me on the Discord ^^ I left the middle section fairly open for this reason!)

Clearing Skies

[spaghettimonster]

One of the things about dramatic flops is the dramatic smack against the ground that comes of making contact. The bed of flowers muffles it somewhat, but not so much that the sound doesn't get the attention of one of the other group.

It's but a moment before the skeleton wanders over to peer down at Hanako.

"Did one of the flowers... trip you?" Uncertain, but he asks like the possibility isn't entirely out of the question, with an edge of checking that the teen-looking ghost is okay.

With a little more edge of making fun, he adds, "or are you trying to sprout some roots? You might want to be on the mud itself for that."

Kel | OMORI | OTA

[knockingatthedoor]

Clouds on the Horizon

[The moment things start to shift? Kel doesn't even feel like hesitating, not anymore- the teen can be seen climbing on top of one of the shelters and look at the Horizon with a determined look. There's no stopping what's happening to them, there's no way to stay behind during the crossing (He did experience that firsthand, after all) and there are people he has to protect. It's with a small pang of nostalgia he thinks of how Aubrey called him out for trying to play hero during those three days that now feel so distant, he's aware he's just a teen who wants to do his best and he has countless flaws but…

But Mari and Sunny are there. From how he feels they're all he has left.
He has to be the older brother, right?

The ferryman's words come and he does toss his pink super frilly shirt to the side, letting out a hum and grabbing what's left of his tattered orange one.]

Looks like it's time! Don't worry, we got it! No matter if one's going with the Ferryman or not we- we got it!

[He's afraid of the unknown, sad he'll lose the memory of a very dear place, but also… there's no going back.]

Man, who knew dying was going to be such a hassle, huh?

River of Mud

[To absolutely no one's surprise, Kel's attention is mostly on the siblings, yet he still moves to approach any person who mayseem to be struggling. The Ferryman changing? It gets a 'yeah, called it' from him and that's all, but he doesn't stop moving and he can see running in the mud toward others when needed. Someone has a stuck foot? Kel is coming back for them. Someone is slowing down? He attempts to check on the person.

He doesn't know why he feels like he should fill someone else's shoes.
There's a Hero shaped hole in his heart and while he cannot remember his own brother, his soul remembers someone vaguely being there for everyone and no longer being present.

His brain is like 'you know you're just a teen too, right?'. His heart tells him he has to try harder now.]

Hey, how are you holding up?

[A simple question while approaching, offering a friendly smile.]


Haven Time

[Hey, it's Hobbeez! A wonderful (now retro) shop for people who collect comics, videogames and wonderful CDS! you can actually hear some Music in the background, people from Faraway may find it familiar- it's called White Space. A popular catchy tune from one of the many videogames Kel and his friends used to play.

Hard to imagine such a strong theme being the 'main hub and relaxing place' one but it somehow worked in context.

There is an arcade machine that's… functioning? It is for now, so if you want to play Captain Spaceboy you can! It's a cheap and old Space Invader clone but for Farawayans it's pure bliss and super technological marvel- they DO come from the 90s and the super fancy innovative system is a SNES, a SNES Kel could never afford…. There are Pet Rock Ads stapled to one of the shelves, comics to no end (Spaceboy's space trips, Sweetheart's love quest, Rococo's arts and crafts, Sprout Moles Adventures (But that's one is Adults Only due to the very graphic nature of the comic)- there's all someone would want from a comic shop!

Still, Kel doesn't linger.

His gaze moves around and he seems tempted to stay, this place meant 'home' for him in so many ways. He and Sunny used to come there at night, running away from home just to read comics until Morning. Pedro? Pedro was a wonderful man who helped Kel a lot when he felt pushed to the side by his family for whatever reason. He went with all of his friends there, too, and he remembers with fondness Aubrey punching him- what kind of stupid way to be friends, huh? Shit, he misses her. Feelings for Basil are all over the place but he misses her, Cris, Jay- everyone. And they all had been there with him at some point.]

Well, this is nice….

[But he's not there to stop, no matter how his feet fight to stop him as he moves toward the exit. He has to stay focused on his task, he has to fight any feeling of nostalgia and desire to keep this place for himself, he-]

If you want to play something or read a comic we can wait a couple of minutes, though?

[He's a distaster.]

Clearing Skies

[He's doing… well. He reaches for the Flowers with a smile on his face, feeling warmth inside his chest and placing one between his own hair. Orange is the best color, he will Forever stand by that.

Kel stops just to wonder what he has lost now that the storm is clearing and their path is complete, but if there is anything negative in his chest it doesn't show as he smiles brightly to whoever may be nearby.]

See? We did it! Flawless! Honestly, so much easier than I expected. How… did it go for you?

HOBBEEZ (let’s be miserable together XD)

[solitarynote]

[Sunny should have expected Hobbeez. Kel had mentioned that he was giving the memory up but… it was still a surprise when they entered this haven.

When the familiar music playing from the jukebox in the corner replaced the torrential downpour of rain, when his clothes dripped on the flooring (sorry, Pedro), when he looks over the shop…

It’s like he’s back in Faraway. It’s the weirdest sense of Deja vu, maybe even moreso than the time Kel brought him back here after four years… and it has him searching for a calendar to see the date, just to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep and jumped back in time (thank Papyrus for that particular thought).

Otherwise, while Kel is busy being detached from the entire scenario, he might stumble upon Sunny sitting in the corner, catching up on rereading as many Captain Spaceboy comics as he can…]

[fantail]

Clearing skies a.
[Sakuya's plan for the storm hinged on being able to fly, and this did keep him clear of most of the dangers on the ground, but the winds were capricious and flung him around like a kite, wrenching at his wings, sending him plunging downwards, once bodily flinging a feral hawk into him. He's lucky he never quite got hit by lightning, and he knows it.

On the other side, he's the worse for wear. Not entirely soaked, though the preen oil worked into his feathers hasn't been able to repel everything. Much of his white plumage is tinged grayish by murky water, or rusty by water contaminated with blood. On his cere, the fleshy base of his beak that protects his nostrils, there's an ugly sunken scabbed-over wound. It seems to have bled a lot. Some of his tailfeathers appear to be broken or dented and his red ascot is off, too.

He can be found perched on a large stone on the riverbank, preening his wings with his beak. Without the chance to properly bathe this isn't getting them back to bright white, it's spreading and thinning the traces of blood around, but at least he can put them back into form. Properly maintained flight feathers are essential if he's actually going to do this. He pauses if observed, possibly contorted into a strange position to straighten a feather out.]

Have you nothing better to do than stare?

Clearing skies b.

[Trained homing pigeons are born athletes. Twenty percent of their mass is breast muscle. They can fly faster than cheetahs run, faster than highway speeds, and some can maintain this pace for over a day without rest. Their homing instincts keep them from getting lost.

Sakuya's not a trained homing pigeon. The size and larger legs and heads of Carneades-altered pigeons means none of them fly with the speed, agility, and endurance of their feral ancestors, and Sakuya in particular is a fantail, with twice as many tailfeathers as other pigeons. Those create drag. Plus he hadn't kept up a consistent exercise routine in the last few months before he died, and he's sore and weary from having flown through the storm.

All the same, he's healthy and some of that ancestral heritage shows through. As he said he would, Sakuya flies back along the River, sometimes landing on large stones or trees briefly to rest. He finds no stragglers, and the land looks no different. When had the landscape transitioned to this from the salt flat? He can't remember. Surely though, he has to look and be sure. There must be something he's missing.

Somehow he ends up back here, and wings wearily to a clumsy landing on dry ground. There he sways, inner eyelids half closed and wings drooping, trying valiantly not to look utterly spent.]

I regret... to report... failure.

a

[blindluck]

[Nagito has been resting, mostly--he approached a few people, but he's tired and distracted with his own concerns. So it's not exactly that he's staring so much as he's pointed in Sakuya's direction when the bird speaks. Nagito's blank expression changes to an apologetic smile immediately.]

Not at the moment, sorry!

Yashiro | Toilet Bound Hanako-kun | OTA

[daikonheroine]

Clouds on the Horizon

In the weeks leading up to the Crossing, Yashiro had tried to not feel anxious. Everything would be fine... after all, Hanako-kun was with her, and the others who weren't crossing with the Ferryman would be there too... Sure some had tried their best to dissuade her from trying to cross on her own, but she wasn't willing to give up any of her memories either. How the others could be ok and willing to do that was beyond her...

As she looked at the storm approaching though she shivered, very glad that once again she wasn't cursed to turn into a fish when wet...

Swept Away: The Suncats

The more she sludged through the weather, the more exhausted she became. Each mini flood sent her into a panic and she tried her best not to get separated from the others... but one moment she was with them and the next she had run to who knew where...

A sound of frightened mewling made her pause in her panic though. Casting about for source of the noise, Yashiro froze. For as wet as she was, sitting near a small outcropping was a tiny Suncat, also drenched from the rain. It was by itself... and she couldn't help but creep closer, causing the creature to hiss at her.

"I-it's ok... I'm not going to hurt you..."

Maybe if she was slow and looking less menacing it would allow her to go near it? Slow and steadily she crept towards the animal, trying not to wince everytime it hissed and spat at her.

Now or nothing I suppose... She wasn't going to leave the poor creature here after all.. so she bolted forward and grabbed it quickly, hugging the cat to her chest and stumbling away from the edge.

"There we go... haaa... that wasn't so hard- ouch!" She couldn't stop herself from letting out a cry when the tiny cat's claws scratched her on the arm. She hadn't been careful enough apparently... She frowned, glancing down at the mark but luckily she still held the Suncat...

"Now... let's get out of here shall we?" She smiled, glancing about and figuring she would try to find the others, making soft calming noises as she continued onward.

An Eye in the Storm

Yashiro sat down, sighing heavily and shivered once more. She missed the sun already... Sneezing she rubbed at her arms, the tiny cat placed just out of reach so the small creature could rest. She tried her best to stay awake, after all they should take shifts right?

Her gaze was drawn to the strange Wraith that had been following them though. Freida and the others had told her that it wasn't dangerous... and so far it hadn't done anything but watch... which made her wonder why? She couldn't find the answer though and she wasn't going to go ask it anytime soon.

Clearing Skies

Yashiro wasn't sure when they had caught up to the group that had traveled with the Ferryman, and her tired mind wasn't going to help matters. She stumbled through the water to the edge of the clearing, taking note of the change in scenery the tiniest bit. They weren't in the Desert anymore...

Sinking down to sit on her knees, she sighed- completely spent. But her mind wouldn't quite let her sleep, so she sat there, contemplating what they had gone through. Had the price been worth it?

Clearing Skies (/slams in here to give these two a nice moment!)

[toilet_bound]

Yashiro sinks to her knees, and there is the briefest moment of something akin to panic that strikes through Hanako before he realizes…

She’s probably exhausted.

Humans were so frail after all, and while his assistant had experience with the supernatural, the verifiable hike they just went on was much more physical than her school gym drills.

(It was a lot more than Hanako was used to, having been able to just float through great distances for the past few decades, but he won’t admit that.)

So he plasters a bright smile on his face, leaning over the girl and patting her on the head.

“There, there~ You did well, Yashiro!”

He has yet to realize that she had gotten hurt.