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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
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[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.]
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Clearing Skies…? (AKA Where doth Makoto, perhaps?)
But the way Nagito was moving, almost on autopilot, concerned him.
It was no surprise, really, when Sunny heard the other’s remark. Makoto. He hadn’t been a part of the Crossing… and with it, a slithering sense of guilt and worry had the teen shivering.]
Makoto will…? [The small question is hopeful and concerned all at once. But Nagito knew Makoto well, better than Sunny did, so maybe the other had just slipped through while he had been preoccupied? Though Sunny felt like he hadn’t seen Makoto for a while now…]
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[His smile fades just a little as he turns his thoughts over again and again.]
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Sunny hadn’t been sure - he can’t keep an eye on everyone, but still…
That makes him feel a little better. Makoto would still be with them… wherever they ended up next.
Still… Sunny was good at reading body language. Nagito’s was automatic, almost tense without being so. He was worried.
Sunny poked the back of Nagito’s jacket with one finger.] OK…?
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[Even though Nagito is probably the only one experiencing actual adversity when it comes to Makoto's vanishing.]
CW: sacrificing someone to the lava in Super Mario Bros, except with lava
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Here’s the dose of fluff after the stress XD
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1/2
2/2
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Clouds on the Horizon
Komaeda-kun! [Yashiro still couldn't quite believe he was worried about her... and shook her head to stop herself from daydreaming. This wasn't the time for that!]
Well... [She couldn't stop herself from glancing over to where Hanako-kun was in the group.] Hopefully pretty well?
[She wasn't exactly inspiring confidence if she thought about it...]
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Yeah... you can still lose memories right?
[Her gaze naturally drifted back towards Hanako-kun and her expression brightened.]
But I won't get hurt cause Hanako-kun will be there!
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The river of Distraction
This reminds him of that movie that made him cry, the one with the Donkey falling into desperation and sinking in the swamps... nope, he's not having that. Not even Hobbeez manifestating itself could distract him from his current goal of keeping others safe.]
Oh...
[Of course it was about Makoto, right? Kel slides his arm under the other man's armpits and pulls him up just a bit.]
Well, isn't hope the strongest of powers? He can walk through a storm and even more, because he'll believe he'll get there and probably arrive before us! Or even find a better place for us to be in! Isn't he that special?
I... come on, buddy. Why don't you focus on the good things, like telling me more about you, him, whatever you want. But let's keep our eyes on the path, shall we?
[Says the one who'd drop everything for Sunny ro Mari...]
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Well, as I've said, he was my underclassman in high school. Just one year beneath me. We were both originally lucky students. That's funny to think about now, since lucky students should barely have any talent at all. But Naegi-sama is the exception. And here, neither of us have any luck at all.
[Which he hadn't mentioned to Kel before, since he's still processing it himself.]
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Right? He sounds like a very competent person! I'm sure he'll be back to us in no time!
[Gotta stay positive! He does nod and nod, there, listening to words that have already been more or less spoken untilt he final part. The one about their talents... or powers. He still didn't quite get it.]
Well, are you sure about that? I mean, how can one even measure luck? And aeven if that's the case, well... you got friends now. Here. Where luck doesn't reach, I'm certain someone else will.
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[He cried. It was embarrassing.]
But Naegi-sama was there, and he certainly hasn't lost his talent for inspiring hope. So it should be fine.
[Maybe.]
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tw: blood, death and suicide talk
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river of mud/ferryman
He dips his head in an acknowledging nod, saying in a quiet undertone - maybe the Ferryman will hear anyway, but to do so seems to be a matter of respect nevertheless.]
I suppose to do the work of a god, one's form is immaterial.
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[Celehar still says it in a murmur, shielding his eyes against the beginning spattering of rain as he watches the indistinct form of the Ferryman.]
Still, if their focus is instead on maintaining the lantern and repelling the wraiths, I would much prefer that to them reassuring us.
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haven
After a moment it become clear to her that this isn't a sign of some kind of immediate attack - she can't rule the prospect out entirely - and she relaxes somewhat, pulls a breath, goes from surveying the space as half-hostile to curious.]
This one's yours, then.
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[He didn't redecorate after his parents died or anything. Nagito walks to the table, picking up a few of the books.] These are mine.
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[When Nagito was happier, she'll assume. Need doesn't remove her curl-toed boots. She sees the point of doing so in general, but not here and now.]
Yeah? Any... [what was the name? The line between her brows deepens as she tries to remember the exact shape, and then she gives up.] - Christian? The author you like.
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Ah, this isn't Christie, but it's my Sherlock Holmes collection. By Arthur Conan Doyle. [It's very thick, being an entire Holmes collection. He puts that down nearest to Need.] Ah, and here's The Murder at the Vicarage. Christie's first Miss Marple book. Ah--the detective of this story. I prefer Christie's other detective, Poirot, but Miss Marple is quite fun as well.
[He's getting excited, little by little, but not in the ways he does when he talks about hope or Makoto. This is something simpler. Normal excitement someone his age might have for their favorite hobbies.]
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D
Is this... your place?
[The question feels so silly, and yet he makes it sound like he hasn't been here in a while.]
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It's really nice...
[There was a clear feeling of warmth and coziness coming from the area. It was comforting.]
Did you spend a lot of time here?
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