Deer Country Network

[Diarmuid feels something is wrong, when he wakes up.

It's not long before he knows what, exactly. He sits on the ground beside his old death statue, reads his worn bible, prays and sings his psalms, and realizes with great clarity just what it is that strains his thoughts so deeply: the ocean. The ocean calls to him, and every day after he feels himself more and more drawn to the shores of Trench. He knows what must happen, what will occur regardless of his attempts to turn away from it.

He does take a day to himself in his cabin, sitting on his bed and crying softly. It's not that he's afraid, or that he wishes to fight tooth and nail against the feeling; he just... knows that he will have to say goodbye, at least for now. He knows he will not see his friends for some time. It's a normal thing, to weep for a homesickness you've yet to feel.

But once he's had that moment to grieve the idea of leaving everyone behind, he feels at ease.

He visits each of his friends throughout the following days, knocking at their doors with different gifts — gifts from his own cabin, or perhaps a meal for them to share, placed in a basket that hangs off his arm. He needs this, this one last meal with them, a chance to explain intimately what shall be happening soon.

A return to the sea.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

A terribly calm, routine Diarmuid is at your doors.

Once he empties his cabin of all things he can give away, he collects the relic from under his bed and places it in a satchel. And then he visits the cliffside, far from Trench, where the ocean waves dash against the rocks below. It's here that he quietly pulls the god-blessed rock from his bag and studies its rough surface — and then, whispering a soft prayer under his breath, he drops it into the waters below.

It is time.

As he sits on the beach, he addresses any who may not have been visited in a peaceful, easy way.]

[Video; UN: Diarmuid]

... When I was very, very little, I remember the ocean being the only thing left to guide me; it helped walk me to the shores of Kilmannán, where I found my brothers — Brother Ciáran and Rua, and Cathal... and the Mute, my friend. And there, I lived a happy, healthy life along Ireland's shore. The beach was my place to play and think and mourn and pray, and so I cannot imagine a better place to go.

... I can feel it. The ocean, it's calling me back. It's asking me to return, to become a creature within its depths again. I had considered trying to fight the feeling, but after the last few days... I am at peace. It feels right, and I know in my heart that I cannot ignore it any longer.

[Softly sighing, he pulls back his robe from his arm, revealing the scarred skin to be shiny, not like human skin anymore. Shaped human, sure, but glossy and purple in hue, the texture so much like that of the very squid he had been when rising from the shores some months ago.]

I do not know how long I will be gone away, but I know I must go nonetheless; I will not last the day. I can feel this... and I have found peace in that. However... I still wanted to say goodbye proper. I've visited many of you, but if I hadn't gotten the chance... if time had been too short for a proper farewell, I wanted to say it now: farewell. For now.

You may find me on the beach, if you're close at hand. I've nothing left to offer as a goodbye present I'm afraid, other than my words and company.

[He smiles down at the feed, expression easy and gentle.]

Thank you so much for helping me up. Teaching me how to become better and wiser and made of stronger things. And for the gifts through the years, and the stitches you've sewn to fix me, and the nicknames you've offered. For helping me reach adulthood. For holding my hands in return. For everything.

I wish you well, Trench — you and all of my loved ones living throughout you. Please take care. And... do not wander too far from the shores.

Is aoibhinn liom tú, a cairde.

(OOC: Please feel free to use this entry to do action prompts BEFORE his final broadcast; if you are CR he's had some threads with or is close to, he will be visiting you to give you the news directly, as well as a meal and a gift from his home that he hopes you'll care for. Thank you guys so much for taking such good care of Diarmuid the last three years. ♥)

( Content Warnings: discussion of death, trauma/ptsd, past torture, psychosis, mental health crisis )

[The video opens up on Lance in the arena at The Gate breathing heavily, there's a bleeding bullet wound through his left shoulder and a bruise forming on one cheek. It's clear, he didn't start this video by the angle that it's being filmed at and how he's bent over with his hands on his knees. Those who have discovered Omens can double as phones may figure out that is how this is being filmed. On some level Lance wants to share this moment and his omen answered his subconscious mental command.

In the corner of the screen there is a black smoke floating in the air, dissipating but forming what looks like a... middle finger? Lance then leans down and picks up Reaper's mask off what remains of his corpse and looks at it. Then he speaks to Reaper's remains, his voice sounding rough and in a weird sort of shock.]

For two years I thought I deserved what you did to me, that it was my fault. You tortured me... for hours. [He takes in a shuddering breath holding the mask tight and shaking.] Then you suffocated me to death with your body's smoke and you've haunted my dreams ever since... But Moira- Moira told me it wasn't my fault, that... the nightmare took over my mind and made me hurt her. You knew it too, but you did that to me anyway. Funny how it took killing you for me to realize maybe she was right and you were wrong.

[He practically snarls the last part and then turns to face his omen and sees it's broadcasting something to someone. Now that he's snapped out of the shock of it all, he grins triumphantly at the "camera", the bloodsport high returning and he's devolving into a bit of a hysterical meltdown.] You hear that?! I, Lance, Paladin of Voltron, actually killed Reaper! The big, bad, scary smoke man in the stupid mask who killed me and Chloe is dead. And I conquered his ass! ME!

[He holds up the mask he took off Reaper's body like it's a both proof and a trophy.] I'm keeping this to remind myself I don't have to be afraid anymore. You guys should all totally try out killing your demons, it's great!

( ooc: lance is replying to all responses after he's had time to come back to a little bit more mental stability/coherency. )