Deer Country Network

Greetings, Trench! This is Stanford Pines speaking. Many of you I met in Deerington, and others I only met after arriving in Trench.

For those of you I haven't met: I worked as a researcher of all things paranormal and anomalous in my home dimension, and after I arrived in Deerington I used my experience in that field to research and catalogue the events, creatures, history, and metaphysical inner workings of Deerington, the Dream, and its residents.

Now, I wasn't the only person gathering this information. Several other individuals compiled their own documents on the same subjects and made them available to all of Deerington. Several of the authors vanished, however, and the distribution of their works depended on other Sleepers already having their own copies to share.

Which brings me to a proposal I have for the entire town.

[ There's the brief sound of shuffling paper before Ford continues. ]

Assuming no such other project is underway I'd like to begin keeping a publicly accessible archive of information gathered by Sleepers, particularly as it pertains to the Sleepers as a whole, as well as the nature and history of this dimension.

So, I'm looking both for individuals willing to contribute their own research, as well as any ideas as to where this archive could be housed. We may be able to requisition our own wing within the School of Mutter's Archaic Archives, but it may be preferable to select a more neutral location, outside of the immediate influence of any of the Patron Pthumerians.

[ Ford pauses for a moment, clears his throat, and continues. ]

Thank you all for hearing me out. And if you ever encounter anything especially weird, please don't hesitate to contact me!

[ on the feed and fixing the device's angle from his lap to hold just a half an arm's length in front of him is a young boy, definitely no more than twelve, with expressive, too-tender doe eyes and a certain amount of calm as he preps to speak. he's also incredibly tiny for the furs draped over his shoulders, now falling into a slant as he brings a hand up to give a little wave. for the most part, he tries for a smile, but the only thing his lips really feel like doing is subtly curving in one direction before he can't bring them to go all the way. the sorry excuse for a smile gets masked by pressing his lips quickly together in an awkward rush. talking to a camera to record these things is always weirder than text, or speaking to people in person. ]

Um, Hi. I'm Falco, and I woke up a few days ago. It's nice to meet everyone. I have a few questions? Not about The Trench, I think I'm all caught up with what's happening. [ at least close to what everyone else seems to know, by asking around, network snooping— it's no wonder that he's spent a few days just to let the information ruminate in his head and settle in. by staring at the ceiling.

either way, he clears his throat! ]

I know some Sleepers might have been in Deerington— but does anyone remember being to other places that aren't your home? Like, different worlds. Specifically South Sister, or California. Or the year 854, if that's familiar? The second thing is . . .

[ falco doesn't say anything and instead, signs: anyone understand? ]

Just curious. [ since if everyone can understand languages . . . ] And, for last. I'm looking for priests that don't use blood for their rituals. For, ah— Exorcism rituals. [ and after an inhale as if he was about to say something more, like an explanation, he shuts up and holds his breath. instead, he starts to scribble something down on spare notebook paper, ] —I can't talk about it if everyone is listening, but if someone can help— [ and then holds up the paper, showing what he's drawn: two "S" marks, put back to back. ] I'll let you know.

[ he supposes that's it, and nods— or more like bows his head. he's beyond polite and respectable as he says: ]

Thank you for watching, and stay safe.

[ the feed comes on by itself. ahiru hasn't realized she's turned it on as she's pouring over these pamphlets intently, talking out loud because that's just how she functions. ]

Okay, so to get food, I need to make money. To make money, I need a job . . . What do they have?

[ she looks over the first pamphlet. ]

Healer! That doesn't sound so bad! Something something . . . "mini . . . ministration . . ." Blood? Eugh, no.

[ she tosses that one aside. ]

Next one . . . Hunter.

[ a beat. she stares at it. it stares back at her as if it knows her secret. she immediately scrunches it up, tossing into the trash can because she's not an animal.

( just a bird. that people may hunt?? duck confit is a thing. ) ]

This one! This'll be the one! Arcane scholars . . . "They either wish to consume all the knowledge they can or share all the knowledge that they can." . . .

[ another beat. she sighs. ]

Well, I'm not smart enough to be one of those. Aaaah! I'm never going to get a job! I'm going to starve! I'll never be able to have bread agaaaaain.

[ doom is clearly at hand. ]