Deer Country Network

( CW: Johnny Lawrence under the cut. )

[Lexi's on her couch, Mewnos and Nosferatmew snoozing on the couch with her]

Okay, this is probably the dumbest question ever, but what stupid things do you miss from home?

Personally, I miss 'Doomsday Preppers' the most. I usually don't like reality TV, but that show is funny as hell. All of those people buying out Costco and building bunkers and assembling arsenals of guns which would make Neo go 'yeah, I think you have enough,' 'cause they thought the government or aliens or Captain Trips or the Illuminati were out to get them.

This one lady was coating eggs in mineral oil 'cause she said that would make the eggs stay fresh for a year. And she had literally dozens of cartons of eggs all covered with mineral oil. This other one accidentally shot his own thumb off while showing his little kids how to handle guns safely. That was hilarious.

Also, Dorothea left me a kitten last month. A normal kitten, not a batcat. I'm kind of not sure what to name her, but I know I'd like to stick to the whole insert shitty movie here plus 'mew.' I first though of going with The Mewm, but that kind of rhymes with womb and no. [she sits and thinks a moment, a crease forming between her eyes] Maybe 'Mewdemic?" Do you think that would work?

[ erwin is seated in a chair at what appears to be a kitchen table as there's a china cabinet behind him on one side and a countertop on the other. he smiles mildly before speaking. ]

I have a query based on the circumstances many people have been going through this month. The changes, to be precise.

I've noted that many people indicate that the afflictions reverted after a short period of time. Naturally, most are relieved by their return to normalcy.

However, I feel like I must ask: is there an upper limit for how long someone remains with their particular alterations.

Has anyone retained their changes indefinitely? Is there a way to lengthen the timeline, if not?

[ he lifts a hand. the right one, to be precise, and flexes his fingers. it's a normal human arm. nothing special about it. ]

Personally, I'm quite invested in keeping mine as-is.

Right, so, I've apparently come in the last few months when the creatures who everyone thinks are in charge are all getting sick and now there are suddenly children and teenagers everywhere.

How worried do I need to be? Is this "a day ending in y" sort of deal or a "make peace with your existence cause it's ending" sort of deal?

Oh, and I guess zombies are a thing here too.

I would like to pose several questions regarding bloodstone gems.

Robby has had some luck in gathering information from Nevermind when discussing blood pollution and attempts to balance it. The pthumerian stated isolating specific abilities from the bloodtypes into gems could be an avenue. Darkblood comes to mind, the reality bending abilities used to warp the pollution or corruption directly from the environment.

I've done some initial testing with little success, hence this post. Does anyone have experience with making bloodgems they can share?

Are there bloodgem jewelers in the Trench you can recommend? Any information found in the Archives that can be useful?

For that matter anyone interested in the research is welcome to help or get involved, I am hardly an expert in blood magic itself, in truth. Donations of blood are welcome as well as we continue to look into this.

[ooc; here is the ooc plotting post for this player plot!]

( major spoilers for Nona the Ninth )

I understand that our blood carries power in this place it didn't have before.

Is there a way to know what it does without risking spilling it out in the open?
I'd rather not have any unpleasant surprises.

[. . .]

I only want my blood tested for "magic". Nothing else.
I'm not willing to be strapped into any equipment, either.

Thanks in advance.

So for those not in the know, our house burned down last month.

[ What a way to open a post, right. And yet Ange manages to say it with something very close to a pokerface. Those who know her well may see something at its edges though. An annoyance that starts to bleed more and more into the girl's tone as she speaks on. ]

And not in the 'dumb accident' sense. No, it's because apparently it's socially acceptable in this place to come to someone's house and set it on fire, before bringing your friends inside to start murdering its inhabitants. [ Okay, yes. At this point it's not thiny veiled annoyance anymore. This is obvious annoyance that she doesn't bother to hide. ] And before anyone asks me if I'm alright— I'm fine. Totally fine. I mean, I half-turned into a beast back there, but it's clearly cool. It's fine.

[ It's clearly not fine. The sarcasm is thick.

Though Ange seems to realise that's not why she was supposed to make this message, and manages to snap herself out of passive-aggressive-ville for just long enough to sigh and sound a little bit more neutral as she speaks on. ]

Anyway, we want to rebuild the house, but that's obviously something we need help with. None of us are exactly architects.. I think. I've learned to not question weird Remnant hobbies. [ You never know what those Remnant people are capable of. ] Not to mention we'd need help with the actual physical rebuilding itself too.

We could use help from a lot of people, so if anyone would be willing to help, that'd be great.

ok so
I know we're all on edge here (understatement of the fucking YEAR I know) so I'm just gonna come right out and say this
if you need to stay somewhere safe for a while come to Turtle Cove, just follow the painted turtles whenever and stay as long as you need
consider the clinic safe ground
if anybody starts a fight I'm gonna throw them out on their ass, if you want to start some shit because of this whole shitstorm, take it outside the premises
also you have to laugh at my jokes bc my ego is fragile under high stress doncha know

[It's not, but he's got to lighten the mood somewhat on this otherwise serious post.]

btw if you see a big-ass direwolf patrolling the grounds give her a big juicy steak she deserves it

Is this thing on?

[ The camera opens on a man, but there is something horribly inhuman about his eyes: they are black from edge to edge, the iris burning with a ring of white light. He is flanked by two skeletons which stand at attention, each with a speck of glowing red in their shadowed eye sockets. ]

Been a while since I had to do this. Hey, hello, kia ora. You face the King Undying, the Necrolord Prime.

( cw: mild body horror (corruption); religious themes; topics of mass death, violent imperialism, human sacrifice likely )

[ A familiar song starts up, and the video opens to reveal a lone young woman, dancing in an abandoned warehouse. The cots on the floor only add to the ambiance. ]

Hey, what’s up, Trench? [ The dancing continues. ] This is a callout post for John Gaius. You might know him? Shit sense of humor, black eyes, calls himself Teacher. He fucked over the ocean, recently. Hard to miss.

( cw: mentions of child death, extinction events, gaslighting, abuse, locked tomb spoilers )

[CW: wide-scale destruction, arguably domestic terrorism, but no people are shown being hurt]

[At first one might be forgiven for thinking someone has started broadcasting a vintage sci-fi film. It's not in black and white but it feels like it should be. People run, panicked, through the streets of a small town. Smoke billows from multiple flaming buildings. Rubble litters the ground, signs have been pulled up and bent like pipe cleaners, and above it all wheels a great winged shape that occasionally belches more flames from a maw brimming with fangs.

It's a pterodactyl. Its eyes are glowing red and big as car tires, its back is lined with spikes, and if you look close enough you can see the seams on its neck where the metal plating fits together to allow it a truly terrifying range of motion. It's a mechanical marvel and it's the best indicator that this isn't a vintage movie, because it is at once both too sleek and moving in a way that is too lifelike to be an old animatronic or stop motion monster. It is very, very real. It swoops in low and snatches up a car in its clawed feet, spiraling upward again before launching it through the window of a laundromat.

Fiddleford watches all this from the roof of an adjacent building, one that is notably not on fire. He seems remarkably unbothered by all the destruction going on and is making no move to run in the opposite direction. He also looks like complete shit, but what else is new? His hair is messy, he looks like he hasn't shaved in days, there are dark circles under his eyes. That's standard Fiddleford. What's a little nonstandard is the almost-manic expression on his face and the box he's holding in his hands. It looks like what you'd use to control a model airplane, only chunkier and obviously home-made. It's covered in switches and dials and blinking lights and buttons. He flips one of them and the Homicidal Pterodactyltron lets out an ear-splitting scream that sounds like metal tearing. He wheels it around again, turns on the flames, and draws a scorched line up the street behind a few stragglers who are still scrambling to get out of this part of town.

The memory flickers. The fire was red a second ago and now it's blue and then the whole thing sort of stutters like a skipping VHS tape and then it's over and there's Fiddleford, looking just about as shit now as he did then, only a lot less feral and a lot more sheepish.]

... I swear on my life there's a proper explanation for this. It just, ah, it looks real bad without context.

[Which... you know, that's true. But it's also very 'cool motive, still wanton destruction' and he knows that, deep down, which is the problem.]

[The video starts off dark. There's some shuffling sounds, like someone dragging clothing on hangers across a metal rack. Then, a pair of eyes, one bright gold and the other white look into the feed, wide and startled. The camera blurs out, but the tiniest, panicked voice can be made out.]

Alcaid! I said textIsaidtext!

[It cuts and then a moment later a text post is attached.]

Ignore that, thanks.


I just want to give a quick heads up, especially to anyone who saw my uncle's post about my other uncle leaving: He's back.

Sort of.

He's thirty years younger and doesn't have any memories of this place so, try not to be too alarmed if you see him. If you could also avoid bringing up Bill (If you know who I mean) to him, that would be great.



It makes me wonder... how many of us from the Dream are still here? It seems like a lot of us have gone back to the ocean. I went through the doors because I didn't have a place in my own story anymore, hoping this would be the place where I fit. Maybe that was just wishful thinking and we don't fit anywhere anymore.

Anyway, that's all.

Does anyone know an easy way to negate the toxicity and acidic properties of vileblood? It doesn't matter if it also negates its magical abilities, it no longer being actively harmful to get into close contact with is enough.

And I mean fully, like you could drink it without any ill effects. Being able to just touch it with your bare hands isn't enough.

...I would also like to issue a formal apology to Ozpin and his school for my... tantrum about his... habits. I'm largely putting that in the body of this post so that nobody will call me a hypocrite.

Greetings, Trench!

[ Ford offers the feed a friendly wave. Behind him, a considerable pule of beans sits on his workshop table. ]

Those of you that have been here for some time might remember a coffee bean duplication project I started a couple of months ago. At the time the results were rather underwhelming, and the beans I managed to produce had approximately a third of the efficacy of normal beans.

It's taken some tinkering, but I believe I've finally perfected the process! I'm looking for volunteers to help confirm that this batch is indeed true to life. You can stop by my workshop to retrieve a bag like last time, though the Prosperitea House cafe has also requested a batch if you'd prefer a single serving.

Help yourself, and please be sure to tell me how it tastes!

EDIT six hours later

[ The feed clicks back on and this time Ford looks a little frazzled, but also a little excited. ]

Hello again! If you retrieved some coffee beans from me earlier and you haven't already used them, I strongly suggest that you do not use them and instead return them to me immediately.

[ And now excitement wins out as he adds: ]

However, if you have tried them since then I'd appreciate it if you could inform me of what happened when you did!

( OOC )
This is the IC companion post to the player plot I'm running! Click here for more details.

[Hey, look who has a face again! And he looks like he's actually slept recently.]

Uh. Hi. If you don't know me, I'm Kyle. This is like, extremely awkward feeling, but I'm gonna do this anyway.

It's Passover season. You wanna come for Seder? You can come to my place in Gaze. It's uh, behind an empty storefront called Bi the Garage, just take the stairs up to the second floor. Open invite to anybody, just like... don't show up and try to kill anyone 'cause I absolutely will kick your ass. And if I die, my boyfriend will destroy you so like, don't even bother.

Obviously the menu might be uh, a little different? Because we live in the fucking mushroom kingdom and stuff. Also I'm not orthodox so don't expect this to be like... hardcore. But I'm gonna do my best. Show up on Friday I guess anytime since it's ALL after sundown now, so... yeah. If you show up early I'll put you to work, though.

So. Yeah. Use this space to introduce yourselves to each other and stuff, I'm not your mom.

Chag Pesach Sameach.


[eta OOC: feel free to mingle below, and if you want to thread anything you can use Kyle's house of course. I'm going to be handwaving due to illness.]

So. Little Trenchlets. I've been here for awhile- [She has been here four days]- and it's hard to keep track of all these people I keep hearing about. So many rumors flying about and it's all so fucking juicy.

So, I'm alone, horny for context, and ready to show mine if you show me yours.

I heard there was a huge party thrown at a house in gaze. A bunch of teens drinking, doing drugs, and kissing with tongues that they just don't know how to use, and providing uninteresting details about alien worms. Completely trashed the place.

Even worse, I heard they robbed the man who let them into his house. Thankfully, he'd warded the objects so if you see a shifty-looking kid or two with their hand blown off, now you know why! There's a moral lesson in there... probably.

Now it's your turn. You don't even have to sign your name. I'm that thirsty for the D(eets).

((Feel free to have your character post "anonymously" about rumors they may have heard about events or themselves in the trench or rumors they want to make up! I highly encourage threadjacking and silliness. Of course, keep it IC, civil, and consider asking permission from others if you think you should.))

A quick question.

I see we're dealing with some sort of unending night scenario. The pirates and the squid thing are easy enough, but I've got to know:

Is this a Vampire kind of darkness or a Werewolf kind of darkness? I can figure the rest out accordingly if someone has an answer.

Also the convenience stores here suck. The tea is weak, I can't find a decent sandwich, and all of the rival shops are out of a proper cleaner to get the salt stains off my glasses.

Anyone feel like sharing any tips?

- V

Stanley's gone back to the sea. I don't think he'll be returning any time soon.

The Murder Hut will be closed until further notice. If you pre-purchased tickets you can take a raincheck, but there's no refunds.

[ It's kind of a joke, see, because if Stan comes back and finds out his family gave money away he'll be so offended he'll probably walk right back into the ocean. ]

If you had any other unfinished business with him, let me know. I'll do what I can to settle it.

[The video switches on, and the woman in view may well be unique, what with the vibrant purple face painting - or...or is it tattoos? There are feathers in her air and while her eyes are clear, anybody with instincts will have a bit of a moment with them - and that eager, lopsided smile.]

Well, well, well. Talking through a rock, whatever will they think of next.

[She's been working to gain knowledge of this place, but it's time to dangle things in the water and see what happens next.]

So, gentle souls and not, tell me of this place. For I am newly arrived. Another in the litany of lost souls, it seems.

[By her standards, this is practically pleasant.]

Tell me - has anyone even seen a Pthumerian?


[OOC: If you'd rather have already met her, or meet in person, she arrived Here]