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
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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...we'll say the name sounds vaguely familiar. Need tries picking up the collection to test the weight, politely touching the covers rather than the pages. Her hands are still damp.]
You started on the genre early, it looks like. [she hasn't missed that the books he's disregarding seem to be for young readers, guessing from the colorful covers.] So these detectives are... investigators of murders?
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Huh. I think I can imagine that.
[just a trace of humor, poking at herself for being old. Need can't remember her whole afterlife, but she does still have a wealth of experience to draw on.]
Does she have something drawing her to these murders? Surely there can't be that many in a village.
no subject
The amount of murders are usually something you just have to agree to suspend your disbelief about in these kinds of stories. Though sometimes Miss Marple was visiting someone else, or was called in specifically for her skill.
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[also she doesn't want to have to carry a bunch of things around.]
You watch people so closely. Did that start here, with your books?
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[He doesn't say this like it's an unfortunate circumstance, simply a fact of his life.]
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Because of your luck?
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[She'd learned to use her magic to influence luck when she was alive, and refined it considerably after death. It's difficult to work with. Her bearers tend to think she doesn't truck with it at all because they often have to actually put in work themselves, and she's never really felt like explaining that working hard to a good result often is a lucky outcome.]
Doesn't apply so much now, I'd think.
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[Nagito turns one of the small, elementary-school-aged books over in his hands.] It makes me even more useless, but it also makes it safer for me to be around all of you.
[He still feels relief before anything else, when he thinks about it being gone. But he still feels the guilt about being glad as well.]
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[For her part, Need is disgruntled about it. She'd lived her whole life and existed her whole afterlife with psychic powers and has spent literally millennia honing her magic. It's like being down several senses and limbs. Sometimes she catches herself holding still waiting for the true occupant of this body to control it again.
This, along with an absence of familiar spirits, is what has her unable to discount that this whole situation isn't what's 'supposed' to happen.]
Safer, but not 'safe'? [she doesn't want to get into the useless thing again right now.]
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And yet it seems you haven't been pushed away. Forgiving group, huh? [how much did she see, or notice, of Nagito's breakdown? Hard to say. Need had ended up running after Celehar when he fell behind and after that was almost entirely preoccupied. She had been crying but had not understood that that's what was happening.]
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Why do you suppose they're like that? You must have thought of something.
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[These are all great reasons and none of them have to do with any theoretical positive traits Nagito may have.]
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[need is absolutely going to misremember 'Sherlock Holmes' as 'Stockholmes' later. she also notes the abysmal lack of self esteem thing again. it is too much trouble to bring up.]
I think that one-eyed kid will be friends with anyone who persists in talking to him. And you're very persistent.
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Sunny-kun likes being around people, I think. He has Kel-kun and Mari-san, but even if Kel-kun tries very hard even he can't quite follow Sunny-kun everywhere. I was the one who found Sunny-kun here first, and--ah, it's just me taking advantage of him, talking to him so often. It's not his fault.
[--instead he is defending Sunny's character, not that he quite realizes that's what he's doing.]
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[does Sunny like being around people? he's such an anxious creature and Need, blunt as she is, keeps frightening him. Without the ability to monitor minds she's never pushed past that and said anything harsh. She's also, she'll admit to herself, not as patient as she could be and doesn't put in as much effort as she otherwise might.]
I think it's good for him to be around new people who can help him not get so, hm, lost in his own thoughts. You included, as long as you're not having an episode.
[and as long as he's not spreading the ideology of some people being useless, anyway. Need's genuinely not sure if Sunny has enough of an ability to smell bullshit that he won't absorb it, and probably start to feel that he's one of the 'useless'.]
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Well--it isn't so bad to spend time with someone who isn't so loud. [Nagito has spent a lot of time around people with very loud personalities.]
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...you know what, this is getting tiring and the Crossing isn't through yet. Need thinks she can smell damp, feel the mats underfoot start to give more, and looks around one more time.]
Would he have liked any of these books, you think, under better circumstances?
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