TDM #2 - Down in the Underground

[pumpkinhollow]

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette Issue #3

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette

8/5/23 | TDM #2: "Down in the Underground"
Content Warnings: [Article 2] claustrophobia, caves, drowned corpse
[Article 4] Various violence by monster

We're glad you're here!

WELCOME TO PUMPKIN HOLLOW!

By Yorick Aberdeen

JACK'S MARINA - Reports from the Pumpkin Hollow Port Authority indicate that arrivals by otherworldly newcomers to Marrow Isle are continuing at a steady rate. The first batch of new arrivals, which had been the very first travelers to Pumpkin Hollow in at least five years’ time, began in early June of this year and have already proven to be an incredible boon to both our economy and our overall quality of life. We now have a new farm on the island for the first time in years, as well as clever new members of the constabulary, a few helpful craftspeople, and even our own brand new local musical act. Not only that, but the prestigious Ms. Dahlia Leeds has taken a personal assistant, which this reporter is pleased to announce has gotten him out of a number of mundane tasks. (No offense is meant to Ms. Leeds, of course--- the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette certainly harbors no ill will toward its most consistent donor!)

According to interviews with a number of these newcomers, they appear to all come from realms far beyond our own, to the point where they have homelands with unfamiliar names and have never heard of the Emerald Isles at all. Those willing to share more details report that they each met with a strange woman in a bland-looking office building who offered them a chance at a new life, then found themselves on the ferry here. None of them seem to know anything further, as far as the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette is aware. Curious circumstances indeed.

That said, we are beyond pleased to welcome even more new neighbors to our fair town. Any newcomers should feel welcome to come to Town Hall if they are in any need of assistance. Mayor Poe and any member of Town Council would all be more than happy to lend a hand.

Additionally, the Temple of Sacred Roots will be holding a small gathering on temple grounds to welcome any wayward souls who could use a bit of help adjusting. Reverend Degas Clayton would also like to remind everyone that he is always available to offer guidance after any of his Sunday sermons unless otherwise stated. He has expressed an interest in personally welcoming as many new residents as he is able.

Hopefully things will continue to look up for Pumpkin Hollow as more arrivals land upon our docks. This will be of particular importance as we draw ever closer to Autumn. October in particular promises to be an especially difficult time, as usual. The Pumpkin Hollow Gazette will report further on our paranormal forecast as the season of spirits draws near. We hope to keep local casualties to a minimum this year after last year’s record high.

In any case, best of luck to our new residents, and welcome again!

NOTORIOUS 'RIVER WALKER' SPOTTED AFTER LONG ABSENCE; EXTREME CAUTION ADVISED

By Yorick Aberdeen

The Paring River Bridge in Lockwood Forest.

LOCKWOOD FOREST (Paring River) - Woodland travelers beware! And not just for all of the usual reasons, either. This past weekend, local shepherd Joseph Peterson reported to the local constabulary that he had an encounter with a creature that had been presumed to have moved on from our fair isle. Peterson, 37, allegedly came across the beast colloquially known as the “River Walker” while crossing the Paring River bridge near the entrance of Lockwood Forest, where he was grabbed and knocked out. Once he regained consciousness, Peterson then reported being lost in an underground cave system whilst being pursued by the monster for an unknown amount of time estimated between six and twelve hours.

The River Walker, a spider-like creature with the face of a human corpse, is so named because it appears to exclusively use the Paring River as its hunting ground. The creature is apparently completely unique to Marrow Isle, as the Pumpkin Hollow Historical Society was unable to uncover folklore or recorded sightings of anything matching the River Walker’s description in any of the texts they have access to. However, through collecting data from resurrected residents who were its victims, the Town Hall Safety Board was able to glean information about this menace that should help citizens avoid yet another timely demise.

Firstly, all residents traveling in the Lockwood Forest should steer clear of the Paring River if possible. While it is true that the Paring River cuts directly through the forest near the entrance and arcs through the majority of the woodlands, and also that the main path through the woods which goes over the Paring River bridge is the only way through to Crane’s RIdge or any of the hunting areas, the river should still be avoided whenever residents are able. This will minimize potential contact.

Secondly, be aware of your surroundings when near the river. Data indicates that the creature will make a soft chittering sound before reaching up to grab a victim. Many prior victims also report the surrounding area seeming “too still” when the creature was in the area. If you experience any of these phenomena, it would be wise to run--- though most reports suggest that outrunning the River Walker aboveground is impossible. But still, it is important to do your best.

And lastly, should you be taken below ground with this monstrous creature, it will transport you to tight underground caves where you will be forced to crawl, squeeze, and climb for your life. All the while it will follow you, taunting and toying with you. Utilize these long, grueling hours to your advantage! Studies have shown that the River Walker struggles to attack groups of two or more effectively, so while you are being tortured, search for a traveling companion!

If you do encounter the River Walker, please report the sighting to the Town Council or the Historical Society regardless of whether or not you die. Those killed by the River Walker are encouraged to stop by the Oak & Iron for a copy of the Safety Board’s Advice Pamphlet for the Recently Deceased after resurrecting. And remember, quitters are tastier prey, so don’t give in to despair! Even if you are caught and killed, you can at least say you persisted out of spite.

BLUE ISLAND CRAB HATCHING SEASON BEGINS AS SUMMER HEAT PERSISTS

By Yorick Aberdeen

A little sketch by yours truly.

TAWNY BEACH - If you’re out on the beach enjoying the last month of warm sea water, be mindful where you step! Earlier this spring, the local Blue Island Crab population had their mating season. Males of the species came up on the shore with clusters of tiny but durable eggs bundled up in their claws and buried them in the sand, and they’ve been warmed by the summer sun all season. As we enter the last month of summer the new crabs are finally ready to emerge from their birthplaces and begin their lives.

It is worth noting, however, that newborn Blue Island Crabs tend not to go directly back to the sea. In fact, it is common for them to spend the first few weeks of their lives searching for food and nesting materials such as seashells, driftwood, broken pottery, or small pieces of metal roughly the size of the average piece of valuable jewelry. They are also very adept climbers and are capable of scaling stairs and countertops with relative ease. Additionally, they seem to be able to communicate well with others of their species and are capable of collaborating. Many townsfolk have even gone so far as to describe their behavior as “scheming.” Blue Island Crabs are also notorious for not being very picky about what they eat. All this is to say, expect to have your food, personal items, and practically anything that is not tied down stolen by small blue crabs.

An unfortunate side effect of the hex has been that the beloved and highly anticipated Cucumber Festival, which normally takes place in early June, had to be canceled due to a lack of cucumbers. This has earned the ire of a great many residents who have cited the festival as “their last source of a modicum of joy on this goddess-forsaken island”, among other more colorful statements.

But there is good news! Hatching season and the subsequent early life of the crabs, all told, will not last more than a few weeks before the crabs mature enough to return to the sea with the rest of their kind. And of course those lucky enough to catch some will report that they make for a fine meal. There is no finer party dish than a Blue Island crab boil!

INCREASED PINE DEVIL SIGHTINGS SPELL BAD NEWS FOR LOCAL PEDESTRIANS

By Yorick Aberdeen

A painting of the Pine Devil provided by Mayor Poe

ISLAND-WIDE - In more concerning news, reports have been coming in from all over the island that there have been an uptick in sightings of the Pumpkin Hollow Howler. Otherwise known as the Pine Devil, this extremely dangerous man-eating beast has been a staple of Marrow Isle’s rotating cast of horrors for at least the past 15 years. Much like the aforementioned River Walker, the Pine Devil has a tendency to come and go and sightings fluctuate with some regularity. It seems that as we draw closer to prime haunting season we will be faced with increased appearances from the island’s least-favorite celebrity.

Here’s what we know:

The Howler’s primary motivation is to eat and he prefers larger prey. This includes pigs, cattle, deer, and humans. He has no known den and is apparently nomadic. No one has ever been able to locate the Pumpkin Hollow Howler when he is not actively hunting. At full height, he stands a whopping eight feet tall on unguligrade legs. He has clawed hands and large fangs which are its primary method of attacking and is capable of flight, and his eyes glow blue in the dark. He is a strong, fast creature who has no qualms about coming into town if necessary. Surviving encounters with the beast is notably rare.

If you have any encounters with the Pumpkin Hollow Howler, report to Town Hall or the constable’s station at your earliest convenience to make an incident report. The constabulary is taking reports 24 hours a day, so please make your report either immediately after the incident or upon resurrection. May your lanterns stay lit, and be safe out there!

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Captured by the River Walker? Click here…

Perhaps you didn’t read the paper. Perhaps you didn’t take the warnings seriously. Or maybe you simply had no other choice. Whatever the case may be, the Paring River Bridge lies before you, and the world around you is unnaturally still. The sounds of chirping birds, burrowing mammals, and chittering insects have all died and left the air uncannily silent.

You attempt to hurry across, hoping to make it before anything unsavory catches your scent. But the moment you place your foot upon the stone pavers of the bridge, it is already too late. Behind you, you can hear the scuttling of much too large insectoid legs and a soft rattling sound, almost like the sound of a woodpecker drilling into a tree but somehow… wetter.

Instinctively, you turn to look behind you. A bulbous, lumpy abdomen drags the ground, and from it extends a set of eight black legs, chunky and irregular, as if they were wooden stakes hewn into rough points with a careless knife. Long, spindly fingers extend from thin arms on either side of an emaciated torso covered in shiny black insect carapace. And on top, the face of a human woman who looked as though she’d been drowned, bloated and rotting. White eyes, matted brown hair, and a wicked smile framed by patchy blue lips.

You black out before you even have the chance to scream.

When you awaken, your head is pounding as if you’ve just woken from a bender. You are on a dirty, irregular stone floor. The beginnings of stalagmites jab into your back. In the distance, you can hear dripping water and the shifting of something moving. It is dark, but light enough to see by, allowing you to see plainly that the ceiling above you is significantly too low for you to stand.

Then, you hear a laugh, hoarse and cruel. “Rise and shine, little morsel. Oh, how I do love to play with my food…”

That’s your cue to get moving.

For the next several long, grueling hours, you crawl your way through this tight and unrelenting fortress of stone on hands and knees as rocks cut into your hands. In caves that are tall enough to stand, you have to walk sideways to proceed or even hold your breath in order to make it, and all the tunnels look more or less the same. The River Walker’s raspy voice echoes off the walls, making its location imperceptible… but it’s close.

You need to find a traveling companion. And soon.

Interested in encountering the Pine Devil? Click here...

The Pine Devil is a mod-run NPC and we can only handle a certain number of encounters at once. For this TDM we will be favoring new characters on a first-come, first-served basis. However, you may still handwave or summarize the encounter by rolling a D20 with 15+ to survive and 18+ to walk away unscathed, and write out the aftermath. You do not need a mod’s permission to do this!

You also do not need to fill out a Death Certificate if you're not fully apped in, but can if you want to. Your character will resurrect as normal either way!

Comments

QUESTIONS/FEEDBACK

[pumpkinhollow]

It goes here!

NOTE: You do not have to be playing a new character to post a toplevel in the TDM. However, new characters and new players should be prioritized.

Gerard Keay | The Magnus Archives | OTA

[skeletonkeay]

-Help I'm Alive-

Existence has been a bit strange for Gerard for the past few years, but honestly, this takes the cake.

When he woke after the end of his painful existence as a page in a book, he found himself in an ugly, boring office. Sat across from him was a woman that he was almost certain was Gertrude Robinson for a moment, appearing younger as part of some kind of weird afterlife. But ultimately she was not. Too kind, he thought. And she had a very strange proposition for him.

Gerard considered his options. Take his chances on permanent death now that he was released from the book... or a brand new life in another world that was finally all his own.

Well, maybe he could stick around for a little while more.

At first it was a bit grating that this island he ended up on was full of spookies. Because of course it was. He'd relocated to an entirely new reality and it was still fucking spooky. But after some consideration, he wasn't sure he really could do a fully normal life, so he begrudgingly accepted the mild comfort of familiarity. The outfit would need some doctoring though.

Once the knees of his new trousers had been sufficiently distressed and the sleeves of his linen shirt ripped off just below the elbow and left to fray, Gerard tucked his hands into his pockets and strode off from the tavern to get the lay of the land.


-Feelin' Crabby-

The first thing Gerard did was cut into his stipend to buy himself a pack of cigarettes and a utilitarian old-fashioned lighter with a bitterly comical inscription on the side. The second thing he did was go to the beach. Kicking off his shoes and rolling up his pants legs, he stood in the sand with the waves up just above his ankles and took a long, slow drag.

This moment of quiet, liberated peace was interrupted by the feeling of shuffling near his leg, though. It took a moment to realize it wasn't just the wind tugging at his clothes, and by the time he noticed, some fucking mollusk or something had pulled up, climbed his pants leg and pickpocketed him.

"Hey!" he barked, trying to grab the thing, but it was too late and the crab dropped to the ground as if dead before springing back to life and scuttling off with his new lighter.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Gerard groaned, jogging after it. He could probably use some help.


-Bridge Over Troubled Water-

If Gerard had seen the warnings he would obviously have been much more careful. He wasn't daft. But unfortunately he was making his way into the forest before even realizing there was a newspaper to read. He barely flinched at the sight of the horrible corpse-spider---nothing he hadn't dealt with before. But when it lunged at him and knocked him unconscious, and he woke up in a tight, cramped cave, a pang of fear came over him.

This probably wasn't actually anything to do with the Buried, or any of the other "fear gods" from his own world. But he'd be damned if it didn't feel like it has he twisted and squeezed to fit through these tight, horrible tunnels. And Too Close I Cannot Breathe was by far one of his least favorite entities. His muscles ached from the strain and cramps and his hands and knees and elbows all bled from the scrapes. Guess he didn't need to put holes in the pants himself after all...

Thinking himself thoroughly alone, Gerard keened softly from pain and distress. He really did not want to die again already...


-Baby, I'm Howlin' For You-
[ Rolled an 18 for the Pumpkin Hollow Howler, using it to help someone out! ]

At the end of what had proven to be a very long day, Gerard wanted nothing more than to drag his ass back to the Oak & Iron and pass the hell out in bed. Unfortunately, this stupid island and it's tricks had other ideas.

As he was shuffling home, battered and bruised, he spotted someone being followed through the darkening streets by something hairy and massive that almost looked like some kind of... gargoyle or something. He really, really did not want to get involved. But whoever that was, he couldn't just let them get jumped by whatever cryptid this was when he had the expertise to help.

Thinking fast, he looked around and found a decently sized rock to throw. "Hey!" he called out to the other person. "Look alive!"

Feelin' crabby!

[woocas]

Lucas is on the hunt for more cursed treasure. This time he's armed with a long stick and a box, hoping to avoid its curse this way. So far the sandy beach seems relatively picked clean, but that's not going to stop him from looking in every nook and cranny.

"Huh?" Hearing someone yell, Lucas looks up and catches sight of a man running up the beach and a crab scuttling at full speed with something in its claws. Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together on this one.

"Don't worry, I got it!" Lucas declares with confidence and takes a dive at the crab with his box, intent on slapping the wooden container over the tiny thief!

Instead he ends up belly flopping onto the beach as the crab side-steps at the last moment and scuttles across his prone form to keep going!

Baby, I'm Howlin' For You

[lordoftheozarks]

Look alive? Erik actually snorts a laugh at that. What irony. He's less amused, however, when he notices this person brandishing a rock. See, he is not unaware he is being followed; not much is capable of sneaking up on him without his hearing it. He's been deliberately trailing this devil creature for the last twenty minutes, trying to lure it to a place where he can fight it privately. Now that's about to be ruined.

"You don't need to intervene. I'm quite all right on my own."

(ooc: lol, he rolled a 9 so... no, no he can't, apparently.)

Feelin' Crabby

[backalleyurchin]

[ Considering that Spyke had arrived to an office with a human-looking woman within, he shouldn't have been shocked to have been dropped on an island of the extinct (formerly extinct? He didn't keep up with the scholarly discoveries) critters, yet here he was.

Conversations, niceties, diplomacy, more niceties, on and on for what felt like an eternity. A key to a little room in a pub, where he'd apparently be fed and housed. It would have been lovely if he wasn't still hung up on the fact that he was dead, humans were everywhere, and this was not his cozy little usual. Maybe he'd gotten too comfortable.

What he needed now, more than anything, though, was a break.

Old habit drew him to the smell of salt on the air, and he milled along the beach, rolling over the situation a few times in his thorny head. It'd left him preoccupied enough that he didn't catch sight of the man chasing after the crab - rather, his eyes darted down to the scuttling and glint of shine from the lighter before anything else.

With an opportunistic lunge, he shot a hand down, snaring the little crustacean in fingers that were considerably too long, lifting it up to have a better look at it. It was only then that he finally caught sight of it's pursuer, and the look on the man's face put the puzzle pieces together. ]

'Ey, mate. [ A nod of acknowledgement, and he pried the lighter from the crab's claws, holding it aloft. This guy seemed to have an energy that he could finally gel with - tension held in his shoulders with the other humans was quickly dropped. ] Little bugger snatch this off you?

Bridge Over Troubled Water

[apocryphalarchivist]

(OOC note: pls don't mind my unmatchy format!! :'D)

[ Gerry's sound of pain just about gave Jon, who'd been only one shallow tunnel's turn away, a heart attack.

He hadn't been careful enough when stumbling across the river, that much was certain. He'd had too many things on his mind, wasn't paying attention to where he was going, dwelling just a bit too hard, and the damn creature that had gotten the jump on him just before he had time to react.

And now, here he was. A splitting ache in his head, a fleeting awareness that there was a way out of the tunnel, but difficulty finding it. He'd lost his glasses somewhere along the way, but couldn't be bothered to try to find them. He had to get out.

He and someone else, apparently.

The sound was too human to have come from the monster. (Unless that was what it wanted him to think?) It was close. (How close, really? These caves echoed seemingly infinitely.) Was it almost... familiar? (Again, what if that was all an elaborate trap?)

Unable to help but chance it, though, and pressing his hands forward around the cave's branching bend, he spoke, quiet, tentative, and clearly doing his best not to let fear seep into his voice. (He'd be damned if he'd feed the Entities if he could help it.) ]

Hello? Who's there?

Degas Clayton || NPC || OTA

[preacher_in_reticence]

The Temple Guardian vs. Crabs

As if turnips and the brutoks hadn't made for an eventful summer, one could easily find the preacher at the Temple grounds in a vain attempt at battling back the blue crab horde. He'd battened down the hatches as usual so at the very least the most valuable items aren't scuttling out the front door, but the best the poor man can do is chase after the shelled thieves with a broom!

"Like clockwork every year, and yet..." He mutters, sending a crab hurtling back out onto the street with a flick of the broom. The man leans on the handle, rubbing the back of his neck where it aches from looking down constantly. After rolling his shoulder the preacher casts a look down the street and notices someone making their approach.

"Good afternoon, mind your feet if you're coming in would you?"


After Hours: Taking Shelter or Seeking Shelter

The hour is late, far too late to be wandering the dark and empty streets of Pumpkin Hollow. Normally by now he would have been well settled at home, windows and doors locked tight and the Temple closed and dark.

The past few weeks he'd tarried longer and longer, cutting his evening walks close to the deadline and whatever horror might be waiting in the dark. This night he misses the mark. The sun has already set and the Temple still has its lanterns lit. Perhaps he steps out to consider running home, or perhaps it's a knocking at the Temple door, but whatever the case it's clear that the preacher is in should anyone need shelter after hours.


((OOC: Wildcards also welcome, but if you would like a personal starter please DM this journal or reach out on discord @ daranon!)

After Hours

[lordoftheozarks]

Well, this is a surprise. Vampire that he is, Erik is more accustomed to late nights, but he's been walking these streets after hours for weeks now and this is the first he's seen the lights still on in the Temple this late. What is the good preacher doing still out?

Erik strolls up and knocks upon the door. When Degas comes to answer, he will find Erik there in the dark with no lantern of his own.

"Good evening. Would you care for some company at this late hour?"

Crabcakes for dinner?

[therichremember]

"Git! Git off, you!"

Jean hasn't the advantage of a broom like Degas, but he is kicking at the crabs and stomping the ground as he makes his way toward the temple. Relatively freshly arrived, his experiences with religious organizations in his original world has made him gravitate in this direction for help settling.

(Said experiences involved pretending to be interested in initiating in different gods' priesthoods, in order to have a good disguise on the fly anytime he needed one. It was taught to him, as a boy, that the Twelve Gods glanced aside at such activities from initiates of the Thirteenth, the Crooked Warden. But he wasn't certain, yet, if the goddesses of this new world would be so forgiving. Still, still! Priests are priests.)

After Hours

[somebodychildofanyone]

River skipped the sermon, but did take note of it. There's...

Private matters to discuss. The lights at the temple being on seem like a decent enough sign, sending the elf out with a lamp. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and pinned, revealing her scarred sigils.

Where the light touches them, they glow like coals.

River knocks firmly on the door and waits, her expression the picture of politeness.

After Hours

[graveling]

The fact of the matter is, it's always best to know where the sacred spaces in a settlement are, for Angel. It's sort of a Thing, for him, given his unique physiology. Erm, do you still call it physiology when you're already a corpse? Hard to say. Regardless, Degas steps out and will almost immediately note a newcomer, unwisely out alone before dark, examining the church with a look of mild confusion and uncertainty on his face.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus | The Locked Tomb

[sugarlips]

(ooc: Please mind my warnings and opt-out post! I am willing to dance around triggering subjects for as long as I can but Harrow's canon is a minefield.)

Harried Harrow

It's a small, tightly wound young woman who steps off the ferry. She grinds her teeth as Yorick prattles along his introduction, cutting him off with clipped questions. Where is the inn, is there a map available, who (else) is in charge, and where can she buy some decent clothes, to begin with. She is disappointed but not surprised to learn that there is no necromantic family in charge here. Whatever hauntings this place seems to have are of a completely different nature.

At least it has thanergy to speak of. It isn't rich, like home or like the Mithraeum, but it isn't a void like space, or a crawling, shivering thalergy like the planets Mercymorn took her to. She can sense Death here, and it puts her at ease as she is finally given a stipend and left to her own devices.

Of course the first order of business is to purchase some proper clothes- trousers, a long skirt, long sleeves, and a cloak, all in the darkest colors available, as well as a veil. Her wiry, underfed frame isn't the easiest to fit but as long as her clothes don't literally fall off of her, it's good enough. Her skin is a sickly pale color, as though she's never seen true sunlight in her life, and in contrast her eyes are an inky black, nearly blending with her pupils. Her hair has that awkward look of someone who shore it close and then let it grow longer than they meant to, but she covers that with a hood as soon as possible.

Next, she can be found wherever a nerd might purchase a journal and writing utensils. Though the notebooks on offer immediately arrest her. She runs her fingertips over the pages, an awed look that she can't contain but is at least softened by her veil on her face.

"This is... real paper." She whispers it to herself, stirring her veil.

Knowledge is Power

Once she's done having a whole moment over Literal Actual Paper, What The Fuck, Harrow sets about her first order of business. Snooping. She intends to walk a full perimeter of the town, and then the island itself, to make a map.

Said map is being sketched with mathematical to-scale precision in the notebook she purchased. If there was a ready-made one available, she compares it to her own creation with a clicking, seemingly disapproving tongue.

Maybe someone should stop her before she just goes out into the wilderness to continue her cartography.

An Unfortunate encounter (A bitch rolled a 6 so)

Too bad for Harrow, whoever managed to waylay her didn't keep it up forever, and she managed to scurry away into the woods to continue her investigation. Of course she isn't done by the time the sun goes down, and yes she does know about the Howler, she read the paper already thanks very much, she simply doesn't care.

She is alert to her surroundings at the least, listening through the din of wildlife (which is fucking weird, by the way) for any approaching sounds or changes. It is the quieting of such sounds she notices first, being used to overstimulation of a very different kind, she is sensitive to the lessening. Then she hears a soft but heavy step. Another.

She turns, intending to make sure there is a barrier of anything between herself and the approaching, something to slow it down as she reaches for her necromancy, starts to form theorums in her mind and settle them into her own bones. She also reaches into the ground around her, looking for any scraps or remnants of bones nearby. Human preferred, that she could use. She slows her breathing and does not speak, waiting for an opening.

Unfortunate Encounter

[pumpkinhollow]

The form behind her is at first shrouded in boughs of pine. The only things visible were the hulking stature of the creature's silhouette and the icey blue pinpricks of glowing eyes peeking through the long, fragrant needles. A snort. The sickly, coppery scent of a predator's breath. Then came the creaking of branches beneath large feet.

For just a moment, the shape of its leathery wings could be seen amid the shadows. Just long enough for the membranes to catch, swallow, and spit back two wings full of air to launch the beast forward. Claws and teeth first, it lunged with a deep, lowing roar, somewhere between a cow and a bear.

Jean Tannen | Gentleman Bastards Series

[therichremember]

1. And the first shall be first [Oak & Iron Inn]
Jean has an expectation of all cities being the same, on some level. There will be rich people dripping in finery, and poor people scrimping for coin in the gutter. But when it's explained to him that there is universal basic income (a concept that no one in his world would ever have conceived of), he's utterly flabbergasted. And so, for the first few days of his time here, he does what any sane man alone, bereft of his platonic life partner and uprooted from his home might.

He goes on a bender. Mostly staying within the inn itself, he drinks his way through many mugs of the cheapest swill he can get his hands on. Surely he's not the first one around to have this reaction!

Now, pickled properly, Jean's leash on his temper slips somewhat--anyone who brushes against him or laughs loudly may get a glare, like he's weighing his chances against them in a fistfight.

"Fuck off, or I'll make you fuck off."

[Feel free to fight him, to witness him in the aftermath of a fight with some generic NPC, or to find him stumbling and closed to passing out at the end of a night.]


2. And the last shall be last [River Walker prompt]
Eventually, though, Jean takes to leaving the inn, wandering to try to find his bearings. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to take the warnings, and ends up alone near the Paring River, with the expected consequence: an attack, an awakening in the tunnels.

The problem is, Jean is not a small man. He's built like a tank (though he hides behind his glasses and pretends to be built like a clerk or a merchant back home more often than allowing his role as the bruiser to show), so the tunnels are a tight squeeze. Even with the breath of the River Walker echoing around them, other escapees may also hear his voice as he swears under his breath, trying to wriggle his way through the narrow passages.

"Crooked Warden, remember your follower, even in this strange and unforgiving world. Perelandro, Lord of the Overlooked, I am literally crawling in the dirt. Show your mercy upon me and let me survive this day..."


3. Cast your eyes to heaven [About town]
In the aftermath of that harrowing escape, Jean begins to spend more time in the heart of town, trying to get a proper understanding of the people around him; he's never had to function alone before for very long, and even if he hasn't met any Right People here, it will be best to find someone else to work alongside.

Whether you encounter him inquiring about businesses hiring or scrimping together a very meager meal (having blown his sign-on on drinking those early days), here's your chance to properly make Jean's acquaintance.


4. You'll get a knife in the back [Wildcard]
[I am entirely up to be wildcarded--jump on me in any way you please.]

I'll have a #1 Knuckle Sandwich Combo please

[skeletonkeay]

Having a more reasonably paced go at his own ale, paired with a cigarette whose smoke may have been the catalyst for the confrontation, Gerard raises an eyebrow and scoffs.

"Make me? How? I don't even think you could make your way to bed in the state you're in. Had a few too many, haven't you?"

Neil West || NPC, OTA

[itsjustabaddream]

- Beach Day -

It's a fine afternoon in late summer. It would be a lovely day at the beach, if not for all of the scuttling, scheming, thieving crabs. However, some people appear to be taking it in stride.

One such person is Dr. Neil West. He lounges, the legs of his reclining wood-and-canvas beach chair burrowing into the sand along with his feet. He appears to be sunning himself, face covered by a straw boater hat with a blue band across the center to match his swim suit. He might appear to be asleep, he didn't occasionally snack on a plate of crackers and some kind of dip in a bowl balanced on his lap. The crabs seem to be avoiding him--- probably due to the thick scent of seafood coming from his bowl.

As he lifts his hat to take another bite, he spies a fellow beachgoer and waves. "Hello there!" he calls. "Fancy some crab dip?"

[witheredpeonies]

"Is that how one intimidates these beasties? Remind them they're delicious and that they don't want to be next?"

She approaches, daintily sitting herself down beside the beach chair, hands folded in her lap properly.

"That's a creative approach to the situation."

Lord Erik Osborne | OC | Current PH Player, OTA!

[lordoftheozarks]

Seafood Makes Him Crabby, OTA
Erik has been hesitant to spend on trinkets or baubles, preferring to save his cash for now (easy, when he doesn't need to eat regular food) so the crabs currently breaking into his humble quarters have nothing of value to filch. That doesn't make him any more forgiving about the breach of privacy.

"Out you vile crustaceans or I'll sell you to a fishmonger!" Behold, a thousand-plus-year-old vampire chasing a bunch of crabs out of his house with a broom.

Closed For Lucas [cw: blood drinking/violence potentially]
Lucas is late for his appointment. That's unusual, but a little tardiness can be forgiven if it's rare. However, as the hour stretches on, he starts to get concerned about his favorite meal ticket. This really isn't like Lucas. Don't tell him the Medium fell off another building? Sigh. He should go look for the human, just in case.

He starts at the enforcer's office and asks around there, but the best lead he gets is that Lucas may have been headed in the direction of the woods. Time to follow his nose. He speeds off to the treeline, scenting the air for Lucas's, fortunately familiar, smell. It takes him to a bridge, and then it...abruptly changes. There's something fowl joining it, a rancid rotting smell. Dammit. Something else is trying to steal his lunch! He's not about to allow that.

He speeds off again, following the mingled stenches of Lucas and whatever beast has stolen him until he comes to a tight network of caves. Lovely, Erik despises wet crawl spaces. "You're going to owe me one for this, Lucas," he grumbles as he gets on his hands and knees and crawls down into the tunnel. Good thing he's a rather small and slim man.

Wildcard! OTA
Feel free to toss anything at me without asking, or you can DM me if you want to suggest/ask anything. Erik has tons of info in his journal for more reference.

Seafood!

[hyliasblessing]

On her way into town for groceries, Zelda halted at the sound of a familiar voice, watching for a moment as he shoved the crabs out of his home.

Oh, it's Erik! It's been a while since Zelda has seen him, dreadfully busy and always away on fishing voyages. She makes her way over with a wave.

"I can show you how to make crab bait, if you'd like," she offered. "It might lure them away."

Mo'rtajha Tykha || FFXIV OC || OTA

[prise_de_fer]

By the pricking of my thumbs...

"Oooh! I can't say which is worse! Brutoks or...or whatever you are!" Mo'rtajha stamps her foot, tail and ear fur standing entirely on end as she eyes yet another tiny pinchy foe. Being from the desert she had never laid eyes upon a sea bug like this one before! Most certainly not alive, either. The crab seems unimpressed with her little temper tantrum and clicks its claws at her.

"You should count yourself lucky I don't have the gil for a proper rapier or you'd be long skewered by now!" She continues her scolding, but this time adds a swift kick at the end of it and send the blue crab sailing through the air. "Ugh!!"



Something wicked this way comes. CW: Pine Devil prompt, she rolled a 7 so probably death involved

For the past few weeks Mo'rtajha has been working on a project. Lacking the brass for a proper weapon she instead chose to divert her efforts to a focus that could help her channel aether. And what better focus for a place like Pumpkin Hollow than a lantern? Well, it would make it handier to keep on her person, that's for certain. Clipped to her belt as she walks the village streets, Mort is already feeling better about regainng some power for herself.

At least until she encountered a strange, long shadow on the edge of town. At first the miqo'te thought she imagined it and kept to the cobblestone safety of the village roads but soon her hair's on end. A feeling this huntress knows all too well. The feeling of being watched. Hunted. She plucks up the lantern and clutches it tight to her chest and breaks out into a run towards the heart of town.

"No, no, no, no! Seven hells!" She exclaims before screeching at full volume. The Pine Devil is hot on her tail, literally, and so close she can swear its breath is tickling her back.

"HELP ME!!!"

As always, feel free to hit me up on discord (daranon) or drop me a wildcard prompt if you want!

By the pricking of my thumbs

[skeletonkeay]

Gerard is leaning against a building, smoking like a delinquent, when he spies this little drama playing out and decides to watch. She seems to be a cat-girl, which is amusing all on its own, but she's also yelling at a crab. He watches with only the slightest hint of a smirk on his face as the crab arcs through the air and lands with a clattering sound.

"Nice shot," he remarks, taking another drag.

Dahlia Leeds || NPC || OTA

[thethirteenthchild]

-Office-

Those that enter Town Hall on that hot and humid day find a slender blonde sitting in the front office, makeup half-melted and hair frizzing terribly, scribbling away at some paperwork.

"I'll be right with you," she mutters, seeming utterly miserable. "Could you shut the door, please? I know it's stuffy in here, but it's the only way to keep the bloody crabs from stealing all our pens."

-Rainy Day-

It's a rainy Saturday on Marrow Isle. The sky has been overcast all day, which is hardly out of the ordinary for the gray and cloud-laden island. But the solemn clouds hanging overhead have grown thicker throughout the day, and without warning, the sky breaks. A downpour drops from above as if dumped from a giant bucket.

Seeing someone on the street (a new resident, perhaps?) Dahlia pops open her umbrella and briskly walks to match pace with the other person. "Hi there," she says, smiling warmly. "Need some help staying dry?"

Office

[needmetodoanyattacking]

Obligingly, the door does click shut, footsteps lightly tapping against the floor...

...and the pen is plucked from her hand. If she tries to snatch for it, a glass of cold water will find its way into her fingers instead, courtesy of one vaguely put out looking Welshman.

"I've the lion's share of the pens in a locked desk drawer." he assures her steadily. "Those forms aren't due back to the Safety Board until the end of the week, and you should either fix or wash your face. I vote for washing it--the heat is miserable, and you hardly need it."

Even Ianto himself has made sacrifices, no sign of tie or even waistcoat, with collar unbuttoned and shirtsleeves rolled up over his forearms.

"So you have precisely one option: come walk with me, cool off and unwind for an hour. The paperwork will keep. That's it, that's your only choice. All attempts to thwart or evade me will result in being dragged bodily into the ocean. Refreshing, but terrible for one's dignity. And, to be frank, you do not want to see me fresh out of the water. I look like a drowned rat. Wouldn't wish that horror on anyone."

Cora Pearce | Original | OTA

[springgirl]

i. Arrival
[It's no small thing to die, or… nearly die. She could've sworn she was supposed to be laying in a hospital bed by now, but that's not right. Everything feels fuzzy and trying to unpack it just makes her feel worse. Cora can't wrap her head around it at first, weighing her options. Take back her life in a different faraway place entirely or move on to the afterlife. Whether it's sheer force of will or something else, she takes the first option. No matter how bad she'd gotten, there is no part of her that just wants to move on. Clinging to some small sliver of hope that something might be waiting for her.

So she boards the ferry, dropping the coins into the toll box and deciding to look ahead. There's an ache in her chest, but she can't pinpoint what it is or where it's coming from. Better to shelve it for now. It’s almost ironic how she’d gone such great lengths to avoid bodies of water only to end up on an island, but there’s not much she can do about it. And she knows it’s childish to complain about anything in a second chance at life. The first thing she does upon arriving is to get out of the linen clothes, picking out a pair of trousers and a blouse. It’s at least more colorful than the white, getting rid of the reminder of her near death.

And then the most natural thing is to find her way to the Oak & Iron with a map, asking for a strong drink. It’s only then that the situation finally weighs on her, getting lost in her own little world as she stares at the map. At first, she doesn’t even register that a cup is set down in front of her.]

...Thanks.

[It's soft, barely audible. When she looks up, the barkeep is gone. Her gaze moves over the rest of her surroundings, finding yet another stranger sitting there.]

Are you new like me? Or have you been here longer?

ii. March of The Crabs

[It’s been a long while since she was last on a beach. Too many memories that were now tainted with sadness, too painful to revisit. Piling into a car after a long beach day and laughing while frantically trying to prevent sand from going everywhere. Part of her wonders if she could give a beach day another shot, seeing as this is supposed to be a new beginning and all. Unfortunately, something else had other plans. Namely, the blue crabs who seem to be in their hatching season.
If she could ever consider tiny little animals her enemy, these crabs were unmistakably a good candidate. Under different circumstances they’d be cute, but they’d made it their personal mission to trail after her looking for anything to nab.]


Go – [Nudging one away from her foot, narrowly avoiding its claws.] Away. I don’t have anything for you to steal, you little jerk. Go somewhere else.

[Now seeming to have a vendetta against her personally, the crab persists with a stubbornness she almost admires. Picking up speed and snapping at her foot. Another two join it, and without really thinking about it she decides this is the closest to war she’ll ever get. She kicks one away with purpose, watching it as it lands in the sand before looking towards the other two.

….This is going to take a while.]


iii. As Above, So Below(River Walker)

[Cora is no stranger to the supernatural – nor is she a stranger to whatever might lurk in icy, dark waters. She'd seen the newspaper and the warnings. Maybe she was confident enough to believe that she could cross the bridge with no trouble. She had – after all – come out of that sort of thing alive before. Not quite unscathed, but that hardly mattered. A bad habit of not feeling fear like she should tends to make her arrogant and reckless. Maybe that lack of fear made her not take this River Walker seriously, adamant that she could handle it if it dared to even look at her.

But she barely gets halfway across the bridge before she catches a glimpse of something. It's gone in a blink of an eye, and before she can make up her mind about what to do… she's knocked out from behind. Everything goes dark. If only she'd had a moment or two to get even a little annoyed. What a coward. And as if no time passed at all, she's rubbing her pounding head in an attempt to soothe the pain.]

“Rise and shine, little morsel. Oh, how I do love to play with my food…”

[Panic seizes Cora before she forces it down, not even dignifying the creepy corpse like creature with a response before moving. This feels eerily familiar. As if no time passed at all and she's just a monster's prey again. Rocks cut into her knees and hands, but she keeps going with purpose. Only thinking about living.

She can't tell how much time passes before she thinks she hears something other than her relentless pursuer.]

Is someone else here?

[ooc: open to anyone, and I'll match prose or brackets. c:]

As Above, So Below

[skeletonkeay]

At the sound of another human voice, not tinged with that air of otherworldly malice characteristic of the River Walker's taunting, Gerard could have wept. He'd been in here for ages by this point, his back aching, hands and knees stinging, and throat dry. He's at the point where he really, really needs some water. For the past few minutes, he's been collapsed in exhaustion (and despair, though he'd never admit as much), but the sound of another person has him rolling over to try and endure more climbing.

"Oh, thank fuck," he nearly sobs out. The person sounds like they're probably just a few caves over. "Where--- where are you?"

Ted Lasso (CRAU) | Ted Lasso | OTA

[theodorelasso]

[ ooc: Soooo this is a CRAU Ted who's a werewolf. Info, permissions, werewolf AU info. This doesn't necessarily make a huge difference in this TDM though. ]

1. Arrival

It's been A Day. Out of all the days, this is definitely one of the Most a day has been in a long while. Ted's not sure he's really processing things at this point. He's just kind of going on autopilot. He's sort of assuming he's just gone absolutely nuts. The alternative is both upsetting and hard to fathom. ...Not that going nuts and hallucinating all this is exactly a positive option either. But at least it feels less potentially permanent.

He doesn't fully remember what happened to him yet. It had been an accident? It's all sort of blurry, and honestly, he's trying to keep it that way for a while. He's not ready to grapple with it.

Autopilot and his customary polite inquisitiveness has guided him through several interactions by now, finally leading him to the tavern. The Oak & Iron. Nice name for a tavern. After everything's sorted, and there's nothing left for him to do, he...

Well, he gets himself a drink. Whiskey, though it's not great. He's not quite ready to face what lies beyond the doors of this building. Not sober, anyway.


2. CRABS!

Ted's not a beach person. He literally grew up in the most land-locked state. But there's a first time for everything, right? He wants to explore.

If he'd read the newspaper, he probably would've avoided exploring this place exactly quite yet. But now he's here, and he sure is curious about all these little fellas scuttlin' around.

Ted doesn't actually have anything to steal, so at least he's good on that front. What's ended up happening instead is he found a particularly inquisitive crab and was... well, basically playing with it.

And then things escalated, and now, well, it's playing tug-of-war and fetch with about two dozen crabs, with a piece of old driftwood. And looking kind of delighted that when he throws the stick, they actually bring it back to him.

(This surely won't backfire, right?)


3. Underground adventures

Gotta keep moving. Dark, wet, slippery, sharp, awful. And terrifying.

Ted's both fast and strong for his age, more than you'd think by looking at him, and he's no stranger to cardio. Though God, he wishes he had less of a belly, squeezing through these places. He's gonna get stuck like Winnie the Pooh, if Winnie The Pooh was produced by Tim Burton and had a grim ending.

He doesn't generally swear, but if he had anyone to swear at, he probably would in this case. At the moment, not wanting to make more sound than is necessary, it's sort of a constant internal monologue comprised mostly of mild Midwestern curses, with a few not so mild ones sprinkled in.

At this points his pants are ripped - they weren't that good to begin with - and his knees have cuts where the blood mingles with the dirt. His shirt isn't quite white anymore. His body aches from effort, he's surely got bruises from his big body bumping up against sharp rocks. All that - it's nothing he can't handle. But he sure wishes he didn't have to.

He's nothing if not determined. He's not a quitter. But he's praying he finds someone else soon.


4. Making friends the normal way

After the underground kidnapping, Ted's tried to keep indoors as much as possible for a while. So he's back where he started - drinking at the tavern.

At least now it's less because of being completely overwhelmed by absolutely everything, and more because, well, it's something he likes to do in the evening. Having some food. Chatting with the bartender. (Furtively wishing they had a pinball machine, and asking if maybe there's a dartboard somewhere?) Enjoying the presence of people, even the ones he doesn't talk to.

Though he talks to most people.

Anyone who seems curious about him, he'll gladly greet with an offered handshake, a bright smile, and an entirely sincere, "Hi there! I'm Ted Lasso, recent arrival. Nice to meetcha!"

Time For Crab

[thethirteenthchild]

Dahlia had been on a walk, trying to get out of the office and get some air, when she spotted a very unique sight--- a Blue Island Crab hatchling, bringing a stick to a person rather than making off with it! She walked down to the beach, watching for a moment with an inquisitive head-tilt.

"You know, I can honestly say I've never seen them do that before," she remarked after a while. "How'd you do that?"

Nightshade Malto | Transformers: EarthSpark | OTA

[strigiformer]

1. New Arrival

Their failure had been a heavy thing to realize, but Nightshade had rallied, as they always did; people still depended on them and, if that odd explanation was true, there was a way clear to returning to help their family and the Cybertronians.

By the time they stepped off the ferry -- and particularly after their meeting with the mayor -- Nightshade's emotions had shifted more towards fascination, curiosity and concern for this strange place they had found themself in. The Oak & Iron wasn't too terribly crowded, and Nightshade had mostly noticed that everyone in the town of Pumpkin Hollow seemed very tired. The tales of monsters and death were equally concerning.

After a bit of getting settled in, Nightshade settled at the bar, not wanting to be rude and not order anything... But not certain of what they could actually drink, so sipping at a glass of water as they looked around. They were certainly more than willing to speak to anyone curious about the seven-foot-tall steampunk-looking "automaton" with the somewhat patchwork green armor, exposed joints, and seemingly-mostly-decorative gears.

2. To the Rescue!

After exploring Pumpkin Hollow, Nightshade decided that it would be a good idea to explore the entirety of Marrow Isle as best they could. They had already heard enough to know that it would be dangerous, especially after dark, but they didn't intend to be out past dark... And besides, if they ran into anyone else in any trouble, they were eager to help who they could.

Which is why anyone who catches a glimpse of the River Walker, or finds themself in danger from the Pine Devil, might be saved at the last moment by a metallic bird -- a rather large robotic owl, it seems, that screeches like an eagle as it divebombs the monster, raking at it with their talons before circling in the air and flinging glowing green, sharp feathers at it.

"Go! I'll keep it busy."

[Any encounter can be skimmed; I rolled a 15 for the Pine Devil, so Nightshade's probably getting a bit scratched/bit up there, but I absolutely wanted them to at least try to help somebody out! For the River Walker, if you still want your character to get dragged below ground by it, maybe Nightshade can lose at a tug-of-war trying to free your character and they can both get pulled under? We can play it by ear!]

3. Young Crabs

The beach is much calmer than some other areas of the island, even filled with crabs as it is. In fact, anyone else on the beach may notice how endeared Nightshade is by the baby crabs -- at least after they transform from being an owl, into their regular robot mode. Their round eyes are, if anything, even wider than usual, and there's a wondering smile on their face.

"Hello... Oh!" A couple of the crabs do try to clamber up onto them to see if they have anything worth snagging, but they're unbothered by that. If they even fully realize what they're trying to do, but from the sound of it, they probably have some idea. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you."

Anyone approaching might get a comment from Nightshade as they do: "There are so many of them!"

4. Wildcard

[If you'd like to write a starter or plan out something else, Nightshade can probably be found all town and all over the island over the first day or two of them being here, trying to learn more about this place and get a handle on things! Feel free to HMU for anything~]

New Arrival

[preacher_in_reticence]

Strolling the cobblestone streets of Pumpkin Hollow, along his usual route, Degas greets every villager he passes with a nod. Sometimes he'll stop to hear news or offer words of support, but otherwise he continues onward.

New arrivals had been trickling in, but Degas isn't expecting one of the new faces to be entirely made of metal. After ducking into the tavern Degas easily spies them, sitting at the bar just as anyone else might be. Some of the locals give them wide berth, while the rest give curious glances and whispers. The preacher takes a deep breath and strolls on up to the metal being, first saying his hellos to the bartender before turning to address them proper.

"Good afternoon," The man rumbles amicably. "You're new here to Pumpkin Hollow, are you not? I am Degas Clayton, the...ah. The preacher of the Temple at the heart of the village."

River la Croix | Dungeon Life Quest | OTA

[somebodychildofanyone]

Crab Boil

This has to be the most fucked thing a la Croix - no, River lies, the family has much more fucked things in its history. But on an ontological level this has to take the cake. She's been hired after death to another world at the behest of its local death god, and maybe her sister manages to resurrect her on the original one, maybe not. Either way, her duty is pretty clear. She is Somebody, child of Anyone, and she's been asked to Do Something.

Right now, though, is getting the lay of the land, and these crabs are going to be a problem. The first one that tries to steal her food gets killed, a quick and clean knife cut with an expert hand. After trying to raise it from the dead as a construct, River gets the first shock of her new life: the spell won't take. That's interesting.

This information leads her to the beach, looking for something that doesn't reek of this place's tainted death, and thence to the old, discarded shells of crabs that have molted and the corpses of those that washed up from the waters before they could be fully eaten. A little needle and thread, a few staples, and voila! Her first servants: a small squad of crab zombies, which she quickly sets to hunting down their living cousins.

Find her at any point in this process, or at a beachside campfire making a crab boil. There's entirely too much for one elf, no matter how food insecure she's used to being, but that's okay - a la Croix should be hospitable.

Forge-Fire

The shortage of blacksmiths to service the new arrivals caught River by surprise. Do people just not need weapons with monsters running around the place? She secures a job in one of the smithies as fast as she reasonably can, agreeing to pay a cut of her sales in exchange for the right to use and modify her own forge.

Catch her here preparing her bona fides, stripped down to the lightest shirt she can wear and a heavy apron, muscled arms working the forge with steady intent. There are repeated scars running down her arms, from the shoulder to the wrist, overlapping and identical sigils in some strange, runic language. They're glowing in the light of the forge, reflecting it back.

Or catch her just a little bit later, carving those same sigils into the emptied forge, its coals neatly packed away...

Supply Run

Y'all there's an elf buying a truly absurd amount of corn meal alongside things like chicken bones, loose feathers, and semiprecious gems. That might be weird.

Wildcard

Hit me up on Discord if you have another idea I'm kinda trying to bust these prompts out before my house loses power in this thunderstorm.

Crab~

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik is carrying a few dead crabs of his own out to the beach when he crosses her path. He looks with confusion at her working with needle and thread to... is she sewing dead crabs back together?

"What on earth are you doing with those?"

Angel | OC

[graveling]

Fresh Meat [Arrival]
On some level, that-which-makes-Angel was surprised to be summoned as a whole, after an inconvenient encounter in a dark alley made him dead. There's always been a certain awkwardness of identity there--it knows that his body isn't his. But. But it was the whole of Angel summoned here, and possession is nine-tenths and all. So. Move on smartly, right? Pretend that you're just a guy, right?

In his early days, Angel can be found lurking in all kinds of places. Near the church, in the cemetery and its accompanying mausoleum, at the Oak and Iron (peoplewatching, never drinking). Care to introduce yourself to the guy with the eyes?


Flesh Meet [Pine Devil]
Angel is hardly the first to wander into danger alone, too sure of his own talents, too unafraid of death in any form it takes. It is while he's out near the cemetery that he is beset by the beast, with no weapon immediately to hand.


Not Fish, Nor Flesh, Nor Bone [A Job Hunt]
After recovering from that less than pleasant experience, Angel's come to the conclusion that he needs to find some sort of work for himself. He isn't going to rush into just any job, though. Find him visiting local businesses, inquiring about their needs. He knows the most likely fit for him is some sort of heavy labor--though perhaps there might be some other purpose to set himself to.


Wildcard
You know where to find me if you want to talk.

Eddie Kaspbrak 🎈 IT (miniseries) 🎈 OTA

[batteryacid]

Adjustment Period [Arrival]

Eddie tried to explain what his old job back home used to be, but quickly figured out that there was no applicable parallel to it. When cars are both a recent invention and rare...

Instead, he offered to try his hand at farming. So now he's got a carriage, a horse, and a bunch of supplies loaded into said carriage -- as well as directions to his assigned plot of land. And, well, first things first... gotta make friends with the horse and the chicken, right? As well as other people.

People who, hopefully, won't be off-put by the sight of an anxious, bespectacled blond carrying on a one-sided coversation in a soothing tone to a horse.

It's Always [censored] Spiders

Eddie picked up a copy of the Gazette and skimmed it -- the phrase 'spider-like creature' almost immediately standing out to him. Given his recent past experiences it's understandable.

Eddie makes a sound that's half groan and half laugh, covering his face with the newsprint page as he asks, "Why is it always spiders?"

Even if the River Walker isn't really. Even if 'spider' just what the puny human mind can conceive of what they're seeing. His back still aches from being grabbed, his throat is still just a bit raw from the screaming...

This was supposed to be a clean slate.

Fuckin Spiders!

[skeletonkeay]

"Because people are afraid of 'em."

The voice belonged to a tall, thin man who was stocking the newspapers. He had emerged with the stack from a workshop across the street a few moments before. A printing press and book binding business, apparently. He had long hair, mostly black with dirty blonde roots growing in terribly, and his clothes were tattered in various places which exposed numerous tattoos of eyes.

The man set the heavy stack down with a thud.

"I mean, think about it. Whether the thing's evolved that way or designed by some greater power, if the objective is to seem menacing, then looking like things people are scared of gives it an edge. Spiders, corpses... They're common fears."

[thethirteenthchild]

Dahlia took a long sigh through her nose, then replied softly, "That's true."

It still didn't feel fair, but maybe that was just her own baggage. Either way, she'd failed to connect once again. She had tried to relate to Angel, and now felt othered.

The urge to self deprecate rose, but she stifled it, changing the subject instead. "Pumpkinfest is next month," she remarked. "Has anyone told you about it yet?"