The Crossing Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecrossinglogs2025-04-19 09:44 am
thecrossingmods) wrote in thecrossinglogs2025-04-19 09:44 am
THE CROSSING #2
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!
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
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 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
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
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
Clearing Skies
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...
CW: brief flashback to a fight
The Headspace that he just gave a piece away…
Sunny is having a hard time rationalizing it, now that the edges of his memory are growing fuzzy, the room they had visited fading to a blank monochrome.
It bothers him more than the first Crossing. That one he had wanted to forget… whatever it had been. But this… he had given it willingly and was now just feeling the hollow echo of where a space had previously been.]
N-no… [No flowers. Not for now, at least. Flowers reminded him of-
A dark room. Fear cramping his lungs. The flash of the moonlight on shears-
It was better not to think of flowers, to leave their home to someone else.
It also hadn’t occurred to Sunny that he could draw the other places that they had seen, the ones he could remember. His eye widens briefly.]
This one… first… [He says that, but seems lost as his pencil returns to the page.]
Press F to have feelings about flowers
But Sunny does keep quiet generally, in the way that leaves others holding the bulk of the conversational contributions - or else let silences linger on. So he nods slowly, watching that pencil hover about indecisively, and observes:]
A specific one of those spaces, then...
[And with that hesitation... There's conclusions he could draw, if he thinks about it. He's been trying not to think about how much harder it is to remember the specifics of his own room. So what's the most likely answer?]
If there's any help I can offer, please don't hesitate to let me know! I may not have photographic memory for just walking around... but I think I remember something about all those places.
FFffffffffff XD
Papyrus seemed to catch on quickly though, even with Sunny’s lack of words, and the offer makes the teen’s eye widen slightly in surprise.
He… was willing to help…?]
…m-my… space… [Able to squeeze the words out, even if they cause a small streak of embarrassment - really, if he hadn’t known that he had given the space up, if would have been mortifying to find he could no longer remember what the room looked like.
His expression is almost hopeful as he looks up at the skeleton.]
no subject
[It's somewhere between an apology if his offers were pressing, and braggary for having been on the money, without any acknowledgement of how emotional anybody might be about needing the external reminders. He wouldn't want anyone poking his own feelings about it, after all!]
Yours was... the colorful hangout space, wasn't it? I remember a giant yellow cat, watching over the wall...
[Really, it was the dominating surprise feature. The indoor tree with red leaves was a little surprising, maybe, but not all that surprising for anyone who'd visited or at least heard of some of the sights of the old Ruins. But that cat had been large and watchful.]
no subject
There was something about his bony features and easygoing nature that made the teen feel like he was never really pressured… which was nice.]
T-that one… [At least Sunny thought so. He couldn’t call up the image in his mind, but the word color had seemed to grasp at his subconscious. He quickly set to sketching the Cat - or at least, he assumed what the cat looked like. Large and yellow? - then glanced up unsurely at Papyrus.]
…like… this…?
no subject
It might have been even larger.
[Seriously, that had been the detail to stand out the most to him - very few monsters were that large, and those that were had needed special help in actually reaching the surface.]
And yet, surprisingly smooth. Not the fluffiest cat I've ever seen...
[Of course, that's... probably not the only detail that Sunny will want to fill in. What else does he recall well enough to describe, or maybe try to draw himself...?]
no subject
That really was a giant cat… and it didn’t have fur? Was it a fur-less cat? Sunny’s eyebrows drew together in thought.
Oh well. It would have to be good enough.
He looked up at the skeleton curiously.]
What… else…?
[He really is glad people (or bones in this case) are supplying the mental image.]
no subject
I also noted some surprising foliage! Not unheard of, but... I haven't seen many indoor trees. Much less ones with red leaves.
Over... here, in the corner.
[He leans in to point - the corner to the left of the cat, if facing it.]
no subject
Sunny shouldn’t be surprised that his mind was a strange place (he was somewhat used to it), but the more words that came out of the skeleton the further he started to question his interior design choices…]
There are… fake ones… [Well, in the really expensive-looking restaurants and stuff that didn’t purchase real trees. They almost looked real and Sunny saw them in a magazine for the city once… but they did exist.
If that wasn’t a dream either.
…still, he sketched out the approximation of what he thought the tree might look like under his bony guide’s overseeing.]
no subject
[That's his first assumption for what these fake interior trees might be like, anyway - some sort of sculpture situation. Probably mixed materials, not something as straightforward as carved rock.]
I'm afraid I didn't taste-test it, so... I don't know if it was the real thing.
[Tones of genuine regret to his voice, there. He's quite certain that tasting things from one's environment is right up there in exploration and puzzle-solving 102! Just after the introduction to puzzle concepts, period. How else would one get all the flavor text?
But the spaces of the memories were small enough that... Well, he hadn't been expecting puzzles from anyone else's spaces, so he didn't check for any! Not when nearly everyone else is humans.
At the very least, he can strain his recollection and offer correcting details to the shape of the tree and its the leaves...]
no subject
He nodded. Such an agreeable sentiment. To taste one’s environment… at least when he slept. Still…]
…sand here… [Well, back at the Oasis.] … was not… brown sugar…
[It had been disappointing. If this had been a part of his dreams, surely it would taste as sweet as the Orange Oasis, wouldn’t it?]
no subject
[He can't take credit for tasting his environment back in the desert, for all that the wind did helpfully bring some to his mouth more than once. Not to mention that initial dip and retrieval from the River, with all that particularly not-sugar mud.]
It was at best sugarless sugar. Are you saying that's a reason why the tree wouldn't have been edible...?
[For all he asks, he doesn't wait for a response or even properly watch Sunny's face for an expression, busy musing aloud to himself:]
I suppose a tree grown in sugar soil would be sweeter. But would it be better to taste...? Salads aren't usually a sweet snack.