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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
The Maze
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.
no subject
"An Orshaneise maze, yes. They leave tokens at the center. I had thought to walk that far."
no subject
The elf looked to be ‘in his element,’ if the teen could put words to it.
That was good. It helped relax Sunny too - the fact that Celehar wouldn’t be this laid-back, in a sense, if this was a dangerous place reassured him.
(Not that they could have dangerous places here, when their toll had been worded as such but… Sunny always worried. He was used to his dreams becoming nightmares on a whim.)
“Tokens…?” His question is almost curious, and if Celehar makes to walk, Sunny will follow. He’d rather not be left alone in the maze again.
no subject
"Simple stones," Celehar says. "... I am afraid I did not bring any others with me, but pilgrimages often keep some kind of token, for the pilgrim to keep in remembrance."
He rests a hand over the inner pocket of his coat, where the simple stone had rested alongside the other token he'd found, the remembrance of a murdered girl.
"I do not think we can take them with us, here."
no subject
This place was calm and quiet. He liked it here. So, at least for a while, the teen feels that own unspoken pressure lifting from his body.
“Stones…” He remembers talking with Celehar in the Cavern, about the fact that they could leave what they wished at the altar. Sunny didn’t have anything then, and that hadn’t changed now. But, maybe…
His gaze scans the ground. Might he find something as they walk?
no subject
But up ahead, there's little sign of any altar at the center of the maze - only a little bowl at the center, with its own heap of pale stones scattered there, meant for the taking, not for the leaving.
Celehar, unconscious of Sunny's thoughts, simply tips his head upwards, looking towards the vast blue of the sky overhead. "Tis strange," he says, "how familiar it was in the desert, and yet knowing this is a memory, the sky feels more familiar here."
no subject
Plus… there was something about it being an important act. Something special. Like when they had talked about the alter in the Cavern.
So Sunny simply listened, taking in the calm quiet. He perks up at Celehar’s words, needing to take a bout of silence to figure out how he wanted to word it.
“It’s… yours… the sky… from your… memory…” Maybe that was why it felt special. Nostalgic, even.
no subject
But there is this, too - that this place is one he has known.
"Have you found it yet?" he asks of Sunny. "The memory of your own."
no subject
It wasn’t like he had made a habit of looking out the window in the past four years, but it just seemed like there were little tells: an extra constellation here, a few stars missing there, whole chunks of sky that were unfamiliar.
Still, he was used to things being off. That was his daily life (and dreams), so the sensation hadn’t been too odd.
And he believed Celehar. The elf had stood out and looked over the desert often. That had been 2/3s of the time Sunny had found him.
“N-no…” he shook his head at the question. They hadn’t ventured through his space yet… Headspace… that would surely be a weird feeling, right? To have so many strangers in a place that was supposed to hold four.
no subject
Though, another thought occurs to him - he glances down at the young man. "Unless you would rather see the place alone," he offers. "There may be comfort in knowing that it will be remembered, but... some are safe because of their secrecy. I wouldst not begrudge the desire to face it alone."
He doesn't think it's wise to walk the storm alone, but without the voices around them the difficulty is physical, and Sunny did, after all, manage to carry on well enough when they walked it together before.
no subject
It had been months since Sunny could slip into a dream, since the colorful array of Neighbor’s Room and the watchful eyes of the Big Yellow Cat had followed him.
He shakes his head, realizing.
“No… it’s been… a while… and I want… everyone to see…” Maybe. He still isn’t sure how Kel or Mari would react. Actually, how anyone here would react. Maybe they would truly think Sunny has a screw loose and if that’s the case… he can’t necessarily deny it.
no subject
Easier to lift his head and look forward here than in the driving rain, though Celehar only briefly scans the horizon, before returning his attention primarily to walking the curves of the maze as they creep ever closer to the center. But, given that Sunny does seem at least agreeable about the idea, Celehar picks up the pace, slightly, lifting his feet to handle the softening ground.
The maze is much different with people, he is coming to realize - this must be more like what it is at the height of season, with elves and goblins traveling it abreast of one another. They would be unable to see the path ahead - but so too is that true of them, here.
no subject
Sunny enjoys this maze though - it’s not like the stalks are too tall to see (not like in Outer Space) and with Celehar here, he knows he won’t get lost.
“Come… often…?” Here, he’s asking, as they continue along one of the pathways.
no subject
"My work does - did - not often leave me time to wander."
no subject
Is the one thing that Sunny gets out of that. Really, there was no reason for Celehar to feel embarrassed - Sunny’s own safe haven was from a dream, not reality (which probably said loads more than he wanted to admit).
no subject
He can't help, in that moment, sounding particularly solemn, but he clears his throat. "Before Amalo I might say my Prelacy was busier, but I preferred the work of helping petitioners I did there. Despite how it ended."
Ah, but this place is making him nostalgic, isn't it? Sunny's silence works rather like the deliberate attempts he's made before at encouraging others to speak.