deercountry | now your tearin through the pages and the ink

now your tearin through the pages and the ink

DECEMBER 2022 EVENT

Due to the cyclical nature of Trench, LAST YEARS EVENT PROMPTS are also open to players. Please be sure to mark if you are using this years prompts or last years prompts to avoid confusion for players.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Animal paw print in the snow. ]
[Image Two: A close up of a hissing cat's mouth. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Hands underneath cracking ice. ]
[Image Two: A dark, snowy river bed in the woods at night under the moon and clouds. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A woman lying in the snow, her face covered by her hair. ]
[Image Two: Bloody handprints in the snow. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

FIGHT OR FLIGHT

WHEN: December
WHERE: Throughout Trench, particularly near the woods.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Paranoia, fear, violence, possible murder, reality questioning

Dorothea seems to be off. She's more skittish than usual, even to those she may have formed even the slightest of connections to. Her own patrons will notice that she still acts like a cornered animal whenever someone gets too close. Her hair might puff up, she shrinks back from touch, and she's quick to bite if she feels she has to defend herself. People can put two and two together pretty easily: whatever illness that has made the Tower so odd has spread out to others.

The fear she's feeling will slowly start to spread out through the month. Those who have Dorothea as their patron Pthumerian will start to feel the impacts earlier than others, but soon it's going out into the general Sleeper population. It starts off with a tiny voice in the back of the mind, one that alerts danger, even if there isn't anything immediately threatening in the area. It's quiet at first, but becomes louder and louder, until the fear becomes overwhelming.

People will start to respond to it with their natural instincts of fight, flight, or freeze. Some people might try to blend into the background and keep away from strong social settings. Others might start to lash out, fighting with anyone who crosses their path because they could be the threat. People can even go so far as to try to kill those they're close to simply because they don't trust them to be safe.

But that rational side might still try to break through. The constant tug of war can leave people questioning what's real, where the danger really is coming from, or if there was any danger to begin with. It's hard to get the answers or to calm down enough to look for concrete proof when the heart is racing as fast as it is, clouding the mind from being able to handle reason.

If a Sleeper fights their natural instinct and tries to trust others, the effects seem to lessen, but they never fully go away. The small underlying feeling of fear will be there throughout the month, no matter how hard someone tries to fight it.

Note: Not everyone will be hit by this curse. You may opt-out by simply having your character not be effected. For those who are already dealing by paranoia or distrust from their blood impacts, the effects will be that much stronger and more difficult to fight, and more likely to escalate to violence.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

COLD AS ICE

WHEN: December
WHERE: ???
CONTENT WARNINGS: Possible drowning, being trapped under ice, claustrophobia

It feels like a dream, but the world around is so solid and real, it's hard to tell if that's true. Everything is pitch black at first and the Sleeper stuck in this new place will feel a heavy weight on their chest. What's most noticeable right off the bat is how cold it is. Colder than it was back in Trench, an almost stabbing pain all over the skin, and it wouldn't be over the top to worry about frost bite. The pressure that's pushing onto the Sleeper's chest will become more noticeable all around them, like there's some sort of vice grip on their entire body.

A beam of moonlight breaks through the darkness and it's then that they are able to tell where they are: under water. Trapped under the ice of a large lake, one where shore seems completely out of reach. Swimming to the top will make it clear that while the ice has cracks on the very surface of it, they're superficial, and it may feel difficult to break through. Trying to use powers to break through the ice will make it clear very quickly that powers don' work in this water.

Is this it? Is that the end? Continuing to swim to try and find a hole may feel pointless, but those who choose to will eventually find that they run into another Sleeper or two. It's hard to communicate underwater, likely, especially when it seems like the omnis don't work to project thoughts to one another the way they usually do. But if the Sleepers can figure out how to communicate, they might find that coordinating their movements to push up against the ice will start to make a loud, rumbling noise fill the water.

The ice is starting to crack. It just takes team work.

Fighting one another or resisting will bring about the very obvious feeling of drowning. Even those who can breathe under water will find that they are unable to in these moments. The only option to get out is to work as a team. So long as they cooperate, Sleepers can break a hole through the ice, escaping the frozen water.

Crawling through the hole in the ice will bring them out of a manhole in a random street of Trench. The lake will be gone and the water too. Those who don't crawl out fast enough behind their teammates will find that the hole disappears entirely and they're forced to start all over.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

NOW YOU SEE ME

WHEN: December
WHERE: Trenchwood
CONTENT WARNINGS: Murder, demons, supernatural, violence, abuse, other awful fairy tale themes

There's one thing that's always nice about the holiday seasons lining up across so many worlds: people get to share the stories of their homelands with one another. Traditions are passed down, legendary figures are explained. People will find that they're even more compelled to share stories from their home, whether it's about a winter holiday they deeply enjoy, or even fairy tales that they were told as children. Th urge to share will feel completely natural, even if it's just to one person rather than a whole group.

But there's always a catch in Trench. As stories are shared, the figures that they're focused on will start to manifest throughout the city as actual, real beings. Santa Claus, shoemaking elves, Snow Queens... Anything is up for grabs, but they won't be exactly like the figures that people spoke of. Their eyes will glow a deep red and their skin will be covered in bleeding wounds, dripping red paths across the snow. These strange versions of these legendary beings will haunt the streets of Trench, attacking anyone they see who doesn't look like them.

It will become clear that there's violent demons about as Trenchies (or even Sleepers) start to show up dead in the snow. Their deaths never seem to be gentle, but instead a clear product of a frenzied blood lust. People may have been brutally stabbed, or ripped to pieces and scattered. Even if the characters in a Sleeper's story were good people, even heroes, their Trench counterparts only want to destroy.

Killing these demons at least seems to be extremely easy. Luring them in with a blood sacrifice is probably the simplest, but people can try to find them and corner them throughout the city as well. Destroy their eyes and the demons will vanish. This can be done by attacking the face directly or by cutting off the head and destroying it. This information is not readily available however, so it will have to be done by trial and error until Sleepers can start to share the information with one another as the month goes on.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What?

[ Robby's been stuck staring at Johnny since the reveal--I’ve died four times out since I got here. What follows it, the way his dad keeps going on and believes what he says. It might as well be white noise in his ears, and it feels like it to Robby, something draining from his body.

He wants to believe he didn't hear him right. He wants some other words or meaning to kick in, but there isn't. Nothing is. He's not saying this is a shitty joke. ]

What are you talking about? [ There was a conversation before over the network-- he didn't want to understand it. He refuses to acknowledge it now (he didn't think about it, shut up) as he continues to stare at his dad. Waiting for something else. Something more.

The looks in his eyes becoming more agitated but desperate the longer he sits there. ]

[Johnny completely misses any of the shock and confusion from his revelation.]

I’m saying screwing shit up with you is way scarier than any sort of death I’ve had to deal with here.

Whether it’s getting choked the fuck out, eaten by a giant sea monster, or take out by kids and their cheap magic tricks.

... You mean it.

[ He's slow again, when the acknowledgement sets in, when the take-back doesn't come. The realisation of a fact he can't quite wrap his head around, but it's severe. Who his father is, what he believes.

Robby gets up from his seat, a hand set on the table to help him onto his foot. His omen has backed away from the doorway, body lowered, watching, as Robby watches his dad in his disbelief. ]

You think-- you think any of that is something to be proud of? Fine with? You think I want a dad who's not scared of dying or what's out there? Who looks at how this place works and thinks it's some cheap bullshit magic trick?

[ There's a redness reaching around his eyes, a flush to his face that's more tanned than red. ]

I nearly died this month when someone took a knife and decided they were gonna open me up. [ He stabs a forefinger against his dad's chest, lowers to down to his stomach. A trembling to his hand, a wetness in his throat. ] I nearly died when I saw a beast and flipped the fuck out, and I couldn't do anything but kill it. And I nearly did that-- because another beast nearly killed someone I cared about, and I watched people I cared about die, and people I didn't care about die too!

[ His voice is raising, red and raw, tears now falling down his face. But if he ever looks away, it's always brief, always returning to Johnny's face. ]

And you tell me you don't care about dying? Because you got to be stubborn?

[ He swallows, a pause, before his shoulders lift. Voice hollow. ]

You should have left me out there. You should have just left me.

[This... Hadn't quite gone the way Johnny had hoped it would. But... He feels the roughness in Robby's voice at his core. And... He knows this isn't the point of the whole thing but he makes a correction.]

It wasn't about being stubborn- At least three out of four of them weren't. I was standing up for what I believed in- for people that I believe in. Yeah. It didn't work out in the moment. But each of those moments I knew exactly who I was and what I was doing this for.

Just like when I came to try and help you.

I'm not saying that I'm not afraid of dying. I'm saying you saying shit like I should have just left you to die cuts way deeper than anything else I've been through here.

This place hasn't got shit on me. But you do.

[ This is what his dad cares about. This is what he fixates on, and it drains Robby--he can't even be angry in the face of it. If anything, he's scared, and it's almost like a confirmation for him. Why hasn't his dad ever thought about where they are, how dangerous this place is?

Because his dad is suicidal. And he doesn't know what to do about that. It makes it hard to breathe, and when Robby swallows, he does so against something hard in his throat. His mouth feels parch, his jaw painful.

He takes a step back, wrapping an arm around his waist, letting it hug there loosely. ]

But I don't want a dad who thinks like that because-- you care about that more than anything I just said. That's all you care about. And I don't want a dad like that to save me.

[ He's rambling some, his voice softer, and he knocks his leg against the back of his chair. He looks down at the table once before he looks back at Johnny, and slowly shakes his head. ]

I can't.

[There's a pause. And Johnny well... He doesn't know what to say about that at first.

It feels like the door is getting shut in his face and he doesn't really know what to do if it happens again. But... That's the whole point isn't it? Robby just said it flat and clear to him.]

Robby-

I-

[He fumbles on the words and hangs his head.]

If that's not something you can live with. Then I can try to change it.

That's all I can promise to do though.

And I don't know if that's enough though.

But it's all I got.

[ He doesn't believe him.

It's hard to, given his conviction just a moment ago, and he's sure his dad is just saying words. Does he even know how to change? Does he even get why he has a problem with this?

Robby wonders humourlessly if this is what being a coward feels like, when all he'd like to do is bury his head somewhere and never come up for air. It's sort of like when he was on the run, and the world always felt like it was closing in on him.

Even if he's just standing dumbfounded in his and Tory's kitchen, failing to know what to say. Sniffling, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. ]

I won't believe it 'til I see it, [ is all he can muster, even if it's not really something that can be seen, not the way he's described. But at the same time, it's all he can offer: a tentative acceptance, if one tips their head and squints hard enough. ]

[And... Johnny can feel that lack of belief throughout the room. He feels the wind kick out of his sails and he slumps a little further into the chair.

It's getting a little harder for him to see straight and focus.]

All I'm asking here is for a chance to prove it.

I've been trying, Robby.

What do you want from me? Prove it, show it-- [ He can't decide if to look at his dad or the table; neither feel right, and his throat hurts worse than his leg right now as he tries to keep back the upset that's pushing against his adam's apple, trying to get out. ]

You just told me you died-- four times. And I'm supposed to-- what? You were proud about it, dad. [ It's difficult, it turns out, to keep his eyes on his dad after all. If he doesn't want to start crying, and he wants to pretend he can keep his rapidly declining cool. But Robby does, because he doesn't know how else to express himself. With his throat close to choking, voice brought to a harsh whisper. ] You're not scared of this place? I'm terrified. And you saying you're not-- That doesn't make me-- I can't--

[ He puts the back of his hand to his mouth, pressing teeth and biting down on the sob that wants to escape. The rooms feels dizzying, and he can't handle this, he can't; but he tries again, straining as it comes out: ]

I don't want you to die, dad.

[ Please. ]

[Johnny stays quiet. He feels like his words aren't exactly getting across here. But it's those last strained words that come out that do help him get it a little more.]

Robby- I won't. That's it. If you don't want it. I won't.

[There's a huff he looks up at the ceiling. Mind hazy from this talk. It's hard for him to say exactly what he means.]

I'm not saying that dying or that other shit doesn't hurt. I'm not trying to say I'm proud of it or want you to be proud of it.

It's just shit that I've stared down and can take if I had to.

But- Robby.

Nothing scares me. Hurts me. Like seeing you hurt. Or angry. And it's worse because I know I'm the one doing it to you. And that there's years of shit that I probably wont be able to make up for.

All I'm saying is that I want you to find a way to be happy here. And I want to be a part of your life if I can-

If that's too much. That's okay.

If all I can do is not die- Then I'm going to make damn sure that I live with everything I've got here.

But I can't keep letting things go on the way they have been. Because that's just not working here.

[ Robby hobbles from where he is and over to the kitchen counters, placing a hand on the island that first pokes out. It turns his back to Johnny, but it's what he wants as he hears him go on, as his shoulders hunch as he just feels--a fucking mess. He's stuck in Hell, and he can't get out, but he can get over to the far counter, a shaky, wet sigh as he plants his hands firmly on the countertop.

This wasn't what he planned for today, but he guesses this is where he is: finding out about his dad dying, and unable to properly give a shit because of everything else his dad wants them to focus on.

He doesn't speak immediately. He can't. Instead, Robby lets his head hang and tells himself he's refusing to breathe and focus and all that shit right now, but it's almost automatic. Doesn't stop it from being difficult, with a throat that's aching and the upset in every part of him, and Robby digs his fingers into the hard surface under them, enough to turn them white.

Eventually: ]

What are you going to do. To change.

[ It's a note faking at being flat, held shakily together. ]

[Johnny falters at the question. It was hard enough having this conversation at all- He was terrified. Worried that he was going to lose any chance at having a relationship with his son. But... He understood why Robby wouldn't want that with him anyways. It played against his own insecurities and just left him reeling at what to do. What to say.

He also wasn't exactly someone to plan ahead. So being asked that left him struggling to for ideas.

Eventually he settles on just being honest.]

I don't know... Not yet.

But I've got an idea where I have to get to. So I'll figure something out.

[ The answer isn't surprising, but it doesn't stir anything in Robby like annoyance. He's still reeling through the entire set of emotions he's been struck with, the contrast between them only amplifying them, twisting everything in his head; a nagging in him to just escape from this situation, or a wish that he'd never made a fuss in the first place, never found out.

Maybe this is normal, and he just doesn't know it, yet. Maybe you just die that much and it starts to dull, just like the rest of the world does. There's nothing comforting in the thought, though. ]

Okay. [ It's an easy acknowledgement to get out, and Robby considers leaving it there. This whole thing feels like shit, and he's still regulating his breathing, just to try and bring himself down. ]

Dad?

[ But there's something else that nags at him, even if he's working to formulate the question even now. ]

[Okay.

He can live with okay. It was better than any of the other alternatives he had been thinking up in his head. It starts to dawn on him just how much he had piled up on Robby's shoulders with this. Most of this had happened to him before Robby or Daniel arrived. He had already had to live with the consequences of his actions. He hadn't really considered how they might continue to affect the other people around him.

And then there's more and he doesn't quite know how to react. He's more afraid of leaving the seat than anything else and he looks over to where Robby's standing against the counter.]

Yeah?

[ Breathe, he repeats to himself, knuckles scraping against the kitchen counter as he builds himself up for this. Hoping it won't be a rambling mess, hoping it'll get somewhere. ]

I know... I know there's a chance we can die out there, and, you know-- [ He doesn't want to say it, feeling his throat begin to tighten. But Robby pauses, waits, and, ] --We can come back. And this place, it's nothing-- nothing like back home.

But I would rather have our relationship be at its worse than thinking about-- you out there, talking about it like you do. Telling me what's happened like it's nothing. 'Cause the world out there, you being safe, or our relationship -- it's not that different, you know? To me. I mean-

[ He takes a breath, pauses again. He doesn't want to get into comparatives, to lose his real point getting carried away. Looking up at the cupboards, closing his eyes briefly. He hits his knuckles down. ]

I've never wanted you dead. I'll never want you dead.

[Johnny slowly rises up from the chair. He takes a few cautious steps toward his son.]

Then I wont talk like that- Ever.

I didn't mean to scare you or make you freak about how this place can be.

I just... I wanted you to know how much I do want to make things right. Or as right as they can be between us.

And that wasn't the way to do it.

[And there's a pause, because he knows he hasn't been around here for Robby like he hasn't been there back at home.]

And I should have warned you or told you about how this place could be sooner. I just- I didn't want to fuck things up more.

[ Robby doesn't speak, but there's nothing pointed about the silence; he's listening with his head slightly turned, but not enough to see his dad. He's rocking the knuckle of a forefinger along the surface, idling where he stands, not flinching to the sound of his father standing and moving around.

And briefly, he might understand his dad's fear of him, even if the idea of it is bitter and upsetting to imagine. Aggravating, but he doesn't have room for anger in him right now. He just feels exhausted, strained and worn out, and there's still his pant leg raised up his calf, red around where the bite marks of the trap had been dug in.

But that might as well have happened hours ago, for how it feels. Even the letters that last pissed him off at his dad--they feel like a lifetime ago. ]

[Johnny let's the silence sink in. It doesn't feel as tense, but it's not exactly the most comfortable moment. He looks over his son, eyes lingering on the injury for a little bit.

That's something that needs to get looked at fully, but- Maybe there's something more important to do first. He steps in and awkwardly puts a hand on Robby's shoulder before he presses in a little closer to pull him in for hug.]

I want to be here for you, Robby.

[ He does look fully this time, as the hand comes to rest on his shoulder, a moment where he gets to look at his dad before the arms come around him. Robby doesn't fight it; there's a moment where he struggles in what he wants to do, but he lets himself sink his weight against his dad's body eventually, soaks in it for a moment. ]

Then--talk to me? It's like you always need an excuse. [ That's how it feels. A reason to speak, to jump in. Robby puts an arm around his dad's back anyway, clings onto the fabric of his shirt. ] I don't want to tell you how to be my dad.

[ Aren't some things natural? Can't they be? Even for a guy like him, or a screwed up family like theirs. ]

[Johnny listens and his grip on Robby tightens just a little. It... Was strange but nice to actually be this close with his son- It breaks his heart more to think about how much time they've actually missed together.]

I can do that.

[He keeps it simple at first. He'd rather focus on what he can do over any of the excuses.]

And you shouldn't have to. I'm sorry for that.

I- I don't know nearly as much as I should about being one. And I let that get in my head.

But you shouldn't be suffering because of it.

[ There's a point where shouldn'ts and apologies blur after you hear them enough times, but in this instance, it's nice to be heard. Maybe it's nice to just finally be honest, too, despite the reluctance in himself to say anything in the first place.

Or it could be exhaustion, and resting like this feels easier, with his dad's hold around him. It could be a number of things; but Robby lets himself appreciate it regardless, and not think about anything to do with dying or death. Even if it hovers in his mind like a gnat--he doesn't want it, not right now.

No, there's something far more important to bring up after a brief silence: ]

...why a plumbers' outfit?

[ ...important, because it's not serious at all, it's a dumb kind of incredulous, and it's been the biggest mystery this entire time. ]

[Johnny feels the pressure ease off as he just let's the moment sit. He's never really just had the chance to hold Robby like this. Ever- It's nice. And he hopes it's something he can get used to one day.

Then the question hits- And well he's already explained this one to LaRusso. And it feels more silly than it did originally.]

I thought if I came looking ready for karate. Or looking like anything like me- It would be taken as a challenge or a threat.

It was your thing and LaRusso's. I didn't want to step on that with my brand of stuff.

So I tried to be anything but me.

Turns out it was a pretty dumb idea- But I gave it a shot.

[ ...truthfully, Robby doesn't want to give brownie points for his dad's idea of trying in that regard. There was too much shit before and after the outfit itself, but he doesn't really want to reprimand him on every step. He's not in that kind of mood, and he knows he pulled some shit, too. ]

Just send a text you're coming over next time? Or-- I don't care if you're you or even a sensei. We should be working together -- even if you don't want anything to do with Mister LaRusso, I want the dojos to get along. Your dojo can help people and so can Miyagi-do.

[ He breathes, feeling his own breath bounce back against his face with his father's shoulder right there. ] I just want people to be safe here, dad. I didn't want to chase you out.

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now your tearin through the pages and the ink

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