The Crossing Mods (
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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
no subject
The rumble of thunder followed by that brilliant yet terrifying flash has him almost ducking, like he’s afraid it will come for him this time.]
…!
[He just barely remembers to pick up his feet, almost a hop, in order to keep the mud at bay. The longer he does that though, the more he can feel his energy fading and…]
G-going… [The teen makes as much haste as he can, the mud pulling at his legs, pooling into the crevices in his shoes with a cold squishing. He doesn’t have to be told twice to get moving, especially now that Frieda is free.]
Haven Intermission!
But just as the dread grips her, just as she imagines Mari and Kel's faces if she fails them and loses their Sunny in this black storm, the thick rain parts like a veil, and they both step into... a magical place. Her eyes are wide as she looks around, awestruck. Everything is colourful, bright and friendly - even the giant cat creature emanates a sense of friendliness. There's gentle music playing, too, and Frieda stands still, trying to compute where they are.]
This is...
[But she can't find a suitable word. It's like a scene from a dream.]
Intermission! \o/
It would be better for him alone to let go.
Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.
As the rain suddenly stopped, like someone had hit the pause button on an overactive car wash, the mud beneath his feet gave way to a starkly familiar, if cat-shaped hole-filled flooring.
In fact, when Sunny takes the room in, there is almost an instant calming effect.]
Oh… [Even if he has no idea why, he’s in Headspace. As himself. A look at his clothing, the same and decidedly not monotone (even though his skin is paler due to the storm’s chill), confirms that.]
no subject
After a moment, she tentatively approaches the tree that seems to be growing right out of the floor (holding up her wet dress and robe bunched up at knee height in a futile attempt to not drip muddy water all over the place, leaving her sole sandal behind) - though halfway there, she gets distracted by what looks like a small shrine near it, just a framed picture flanked by burning candles. Stepping up to it, she recognises Mari, and she's all but speechless.]
This can't be a painting..!
[It's incredibly life-like!]
no subject
But since this place came right from his dreams, crafted into a safe haven… it’s like a homecoming, in a way. (And a nice one at that. He would honestly feel worse if they had showed up at his house in Faraway Town instead.)]
It’s… a tree… [He explains, placing one hand against the bark. Yet, to someone who isn’t used to Headspace, there is a strange quality to it, like the tree exists but isn’t real (which wouldn’t be inaccurate). To call it a painting wouldn’t be the worst analogy.]
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[With care, she picks up the framed picture of Mari that drew her attention away from the tree, holding it in both hands.]
This is Mari...
[Well, that much is obvious - but if an image of Mari is enshrined here, then this must be Sunny's safe space. She doesn't know what she imagined his word to be like, but... this wasn't it!]
...
Is this your home, Sunny?
Me totally missing the picture part last time and Sunny just being like ‘a tree’ is on brand XD
Sunny makes his way over towards Frieda, seeing how she carefully holds the portrait.
A picture of someone special…
He stares at it, a mixture of feelings beneath the surface. And then turns back to the room.]
Not… my actual… room…
[Is what he says in response. Sure, it was where he (mentally) had spent the past four years, but…
Where exactly was ‘home’? It wasn’t back in Faraway - as much as he had memories and friends there, he would have been leaving soon. And the city definitely wasn’t it, as much as his mother wished it would become such.
Headspace… was maybe the closest thing he had? But it didn’t quite feel like ‘home’ either. It was more… an escape. A pleasant place where things couldn’t go wrong.
He knew that. (And Sunny might be spacing out a bit thinking through all of this.)]
I thought it checked out since she veered off the tree track at the last moment! 🤭
Is it a dream, then?
[That was her first impression, and it remains the best way in which she can make sense of it.]
It’s perfect <3
As she turns to face him, he nods - hesitant, embarrassed, shy.]
It’s… safe… [He says by way of explanation, as if that wouldn’t be obvious. They all had to give up someplace that was a safe haven.] No… monsters… or… scary things… here.
[So she was free to relax, dry off, and take a rest, if wanted. Nothing really to eat (the toaster was empty) except for a sole bean on a plate.]
♡
Who's this?
no subject
Then, his gaze follows where Frieda is pointing… straight up to the yellow cat.]
The Favorite.
[The name might seem strange - though introducing it as Big Yellow Cat might have sounded even more on point - but… that’s what the coral had said.
The last and favorite, the Big Yellow Cat.]
He keeps watch. [A full sentence, that, though if he’s simply repeating something he heard or without his characteristic fragmented speech has yet to be seen.
Indeed, if Frieda watches closely, as they walk through the room, the cat’s eyes seem to follow Sunny no matter where he is. Totally normal.]
no subject
Her glance wanders from the big yellow cat to the tree, so out of place in this indoor location, then towards the TV. She approaches it and watches the looping scene, fascinated.]
What's this? Who are these people?
[If it's a live-action movie, it'll baffle her equally much as the photo of Mari.]
no subject
It was strange - talking about something that meant so much to him yet also having someone being able to see it. The latter normally wasn’t possible.]
It’s a… television. [At her, presumably, questioning look, he continues. (And it is live action!)] The screen- [He points to the square that has the moving images.] -plays cartoons and movies. Stuff to watch… this one… they’re looking… for a friend…
[As soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunny’s heart skips a beat. Wait, wasn’t that was what he was supposed to be doing? Looking for Basil-
He shakes his head.]
no subject
What are their names?
[Not knowing anything about TVs besides what he just said, she assumes that every story it shows is meaningful.]
LOL not me having to deep dive because I actually haven’t seen this movie
His mind liked to wander, even before it became a necessity.
Because of this, it takes a moment of staring, watching the children walk on the railroad tracks, for him to recall.]
Gordie… Chris… Teddy… and… Fern? [The last one he’s unsure of. It sounded right in his head, but wrong once said. Oops.]
Oh no... but now we know!!
Will they ever find their friend?
CW: brief mention of movie child death (Now we know! ^^)
And yet, as he stared at the television, watching the four children walk down a mundane path…
Sunny frowned. Feeling like something was dragging him down, almost.]
I… don’t know… [The boy was dead. The four children didn’t know that, still searching with curiosity and vigor in an unfriendly world.
And Sunny had to wonder… if Omori and his friend of friends (if him and their close knit group) would ever find Basil.
That… was what he was supposed to be doing, right? Except Mari hadn’t reminded him, because there was no picnic blanket here. And that thought had him glancing around, worry in his gaze, as if searching for one-
This place should be safe. But… it wasn’t safe. The lone tentacle sprouting from one of the holes in the floor waves, as though trying to get his attention.
Sunny ignores it. She was cast out. There were more important things.]
no subject
Let's go upstairs, shall we?
no subject
He tugs on Frieda’s sleeve, shaking his head.]
N-no… up… is out… [Out into the storm or out into the rest of Headspace, he isn’t sure. Maybe she would like to go on an adventure, but Sunny is afraid if the answer is the latter. What did it mean if they all ended up in Headspace for real…?]
no subject
Who's that present for?
Me making things up, here we go~
He walks over to it, staring, and then turns back to Frieda.]
Mine. And yours. [Is that true? Who knows. There isn’t a tag stating who the gift is for. And, in spite of the plurality of his answer, there is only one gift.
If Frieda insists he should open it, he shakes his head.] Yours. [Insisting. He looks like he might want to pick the box up, but pouts.] Too heavy. [And yet - if Frieda picks up the present, it’s light. Opening it presents an equally strange sight: the box is empty.]
♡
I'm sorry, Sunny, it's empty. See?
[She puts box and ribbon back on the counter, then inspects the thing next to it - a stylised face. Is it a plush toy, a pillow..?]
I’m awful but…
white and blank strands mix together in the bottom
The teen places the lid back on the box, heart hammering, before turning to answer Frieda’s inquiry.]
It’s… Sweetheart… [Back home, there were a bunch of movies on her, and Sunny’s overactive imagination had coupled with his shipper brain to make a made up crossover in Headspace with her and Captain Spaceboy…
Why that was a good idea, he wasn’t sure anymore… but Sweetheart had way more cameos in his dreams so far. He’s somewhat pouting at the thought.]
RIP Sunny... he keeps going through it!
Sweetheart? Is she a person from a story, too?
As Frieda likes to think often, Sunny’s always going through it XD ><‘
[She also, oddly enough, reminded him of Miss. Candice, the candy store owner, though whether the resemblance is intended or not is something he’s never figured out.]
Hobbeez… had… toys and DVDs. [The place that Kel’s safe haven was? That place.
Then, maybe the most unhinged though.] She’s a… donut.
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Don’t worry Frieda, I was shocked by that revelation too XD
Anybody would be!
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(Wanting to wrap here or with yours?)