Deer Country Network

[The video begins with Makoto, who is currently almost glowing with how happy she seems, the expression making her seem much more feminine and softer than usual. The light blush on her cheeks and a smile that almost hid those green eyes.]

Hey guys, I know there have been a lot of things going on lately... And few other of these. But we have an announcement for everyone as well, Usagi and I.

[Makoto took a small step back to allow Usagi to step in and speak, after all she was the one that most of them would know.

Usagi steps forward, smiling brightly, she gives Makoto’s a hand a small squeeze. Usagi wastes no time and waves wildly to the Omni while still holding Makoto’s hand with the other.]

WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!

Yes! Mako-chan and I are getting married!

We’re planning on having the wedding in June so we can both be June brides. And we’re thinking about a traditional ceremony.

We’ve got a cake all ready to go! And the dresses. We’re doing a traditional Western wedding.

We just wanted to make sure that all of her friends knew, and we’ll send out invitations soon. And don’t worry about gifts or anything, having you there will be enough.

That all of our friends knew!

Oh... and one last eensy weensy itsy bitsy tiny little thing. [Usagi is all smiles and then it drops as she becomes very serious.]

If you ruin this for Mako-chan who has wished to be a bride, if you try in any shape or form to make this anything less than the best day for her, I will make you regret existing. [She’s immediately back to smiling brightly.] BUT! I KNOW THAT WON’T HAPPEN!

Isn’t that supposed to be my line? But yeah invitations will be out soon.



(OOC: Makoto is in green and Usagi is in blue. Replies will come from both girls. )

[ Following this broadcast on the network.] ]

Hello, everyone. This is Luna Lovegood.

I've left this open to all, but I'm reaching out those who knew Deerington. I thought this may be the best way to reach out, it's hard to know how many of us are left who came directly from the Dream. Another Sleeper has mentioned that they've been able to contact Ramona in Sleepy Town, something I didn't even know possible. But it has made me wonder about something.

How many of us died in the Dream? And of those, how many of us went through the door and received her gift? The one to transform into a deer?

Ramona's magic that helped us with death and coming back is gone. We don't have our antler tattoos anymore. But maybe we can still become deer, maybe that power is still there in all of us.

I know we all have our own thoughts and opinions on the ones we voted over on their fates. What happened to Ramona Derwin has never sat right with me. I think were wrong to Awaken her. I know it turned out to be what a lot of people chose for her, but... to condemn her to Beasthood? I suppose I could hardly blame her fear of returning to being nothing more than a fictional character, to the uncertainty of existing if she went back. Julia made her real. I wished she'd been Sacrificed.

I wish things could be different. I want to tell her I'm sorry.

Maybe the only way I can tell her is if I'm a deer, but I don't know if it's possible to become it again. My Death Statue is in Sleepy Town, but the danger is too great to go there again. I have to find another way, if I can.

[Local man sits at his kitchen table, arms folded and a coffee mug in front of him. He looks... worried. Concerned. And is clearly preparing for a Speech.]

My name is Shiro.

I'm one of the Sleepers who came here from Deerington, the dream world. I don't actually know how many of you out there are in the same boat anymore, so... with a choice like we've been given, I don't know how many of you remember the last time we had one like it.

[He means the vote that ended the dream.]

That vote ended with Julia Sodder's death.

I want to think it's because a lot of us didn't fully understand the consequences. I want to think it was because a lot of people were hurt, afraid, and thought they were doing the right thing. Or they just wanted to protect the people they knew. Regardless, Julia Sodder died. The people she'd brought into her world to save her... they let her down.

[Deep breaths Shiro, because it really sounds like you were trying to say I let her down, there. He folds his hands, and props his chin up in them.]

You can probably see where I'm going with this.

I'm not saying don't give this Pthumerian your opinion. At this point, inaction is probably the worst idea we've got. These beings - they're a part of this world whether we like it or not. They have been for longer than we can probably realize. [He grimaces.] Aside from one...

[Friggin Mother Mercy/Superior.]

We should be careful, I think, to do anything that cuts them off from their world. Even if we think it might help the people we care about. Protect them. We could end up doing something we really regret.

[There's a long pause, Shiro debating his next words.]

Like always, I'm open to explaining anything to people who have no idea where I'm coming from. I'm more than happy to talk about what happened in Deerington. The way I see it, maybe that will help us understand this world.

[ It's been months since Jon Sims was on the network, and this time, he's in the frame alone. The alleviation of Corruption couldn't come a moment too soon for this guy, apparently: he still has the haggard, hollowed-out look of a man who hasn't had a real meal in months. There's something profoundly unsettling about his eyes, which are too deep and too green. He never seems to blink. ]

Good afternoon. My name is Jonathan Sims. I am a researcher of what might be called 'the paranormal,' and... a survivor of the place known as Deerington. I've been working with several others to maintain an archive of topics and artifacts relevant to Sleepers, kept beyond the control of the Pthumerian Never Mind.

[ He doesn't even try to mask his distrust: he clearly isn't a fan of the patrons. ]

We are developing a secure location to the north of Trench, though [ impatiently ] I cannot recommend visiting without the use of traveling Lamps. The walk back to town is... not ideal.

More to the point, I am making a request for information. [ This is where he gets cagey, tense in the way of a man hiding something. ] The Archive is now undertaking an effort to create a comprehensive catalogue— a bestiary, I suppose— of recurring threats in Trench. If you have had a particularly upsetting or perilous experience with any being in this city, we would like the written record of your experience. Please submit accounts via text to this network address.

[ It's the second time he's hit the network to ask for personal stories. Those who respond might find themselves writing (or speaking) more freely than they planned to, flashing back to the memory in detail— though in this low-Corruption month, the effect isn't too intense. ]

Thank you.

[The feed opens up to an unnaturally beautiful garden. For those familiar with Ange Ushiromiyra or Beatrice's magic they'll certainly recognize the golden butterflies fluttering about the and resting upon the golden roses. While this area looks nothing like Trench, one of the carnivorous plants can be seen going to snap at one of the butterflies.

Only for Ruby Rose to pop up on the screen and slices the plant in two with a scythe made of scythe made of pure energy that she had not been seen with before. In fact she seemed incredibly energetic for someone who should be dealing with the draining effect on cold bloods this month. She's also dressed surprisingly formal for her usually very goth tendencies. She quickly dusts herself off and looks to whatever is projecting the Feed.]

Sorry about that. Just dealing with a few nasty pests that stumbled in here.

Speaking of which~!

I thought it would be fun to give everyone a little tour of The Golden Land my beautiful wife, The Golden Witch Ange Ushiromiya has created.

[The feed turns shows off the beautiful Garden, along with a gazebo with a table set for a tea party beneath it, a massive hedge maze that contains various doors that poke out from the overgrowth unnaturally. As they pass by a couple of the doors one might hear a few bangs or something that might sound like finger nails raking on the doors. Ruby seems to ignore it until she notices one slowly start to open and she'll step in to slam it shut and lock it with a key before turning back to the camera.]

Oh, just ignore that! Some people get a little rambunctious waiting for dinner, you know?

[Speaking of dinner, the next door in the hedge maze is open, and it leads to an extravagant kitchen. Inside that kitchen, one Xerxes Break is not making dinner. He is sitting cross-legged on the table, forming bits of crust into an intricate top for a terribly pretty pie. He has already made cookies and some wads of frosting shaped like roses that probably have cupcakes underneath, and is having a grand time. He glances up as Ruby steals a cookie.]

There you are. When you've finished whatever you're up to, come see me, would you? I was thinking we ought to come up with a present to make for Miss Ange. [As he speaks, he picks up a fork and casually hurls it off to the side somewhere. There's a thunk, and the angry gurgling of another carnivorous plant that tried to follow Ruby in.] Since she's made us such a lovely new home, we ought to make something really great for her too, don't you think?

[Quite frankly sitting on tables and throwing cutlery is just normal Break behavior. But those who recognize him may notice that the one red eye he keeps visible has a distinct glow about it, and his ever present omen — who is on the floor nearby, happily chewing up a pumpkin someone has conjured for him — has all of his too many teeth out in a manic doggy grin he cannot quite seem to put away.]

[Ruby bounces on the balls of her feet in excitement.]

That's a great idea! I'll wrap this up quick!

[And quickly begins to float out of the kitchen and into a grand lobby that seems to be just as over grown as everything else. There is a Portrait of her and Ange that eventually stops by and presents with open arms.]

Any who wish to visit this wonderful world created by our Golden Witch, Ange Ushiromiya are welcome to.

But please try not to cause any problems. I'll only politely ask you to leave once.

[And the feed closes with a smile that seems almost a little too sweet as she again grips that large scythe.]

[OOC Purple is Break.

TLDR Ange has made an interdimensional hidey hole centralized There will be a log coming up in the next few days to explore the area and have some fun!]

[The video opens with a shot over a man's shoulder as he reaches for the doorknob. He jumps back as soon as his hand touches it and shudders in revulsion.]

Ugh!

[Glancing over his shoulder, his expression shifts from disgust to surprise, as the camera moves sideways slightly. It's clearly his Omen doing the recording, and until now, he had been entirely unaware of it.]

Wait a second - are you broadcasting this to the whole network? Why?

[There isn't an answer, but Martin seems to understand instinctively, because he heaves a long suffering sigh.]

Fine. Does, uh, anyone know how to stop this whole... sense-switching thing? Tasting everything you touch is... well, it's not great. Do you have any idea the number of things you touch in a day that taste awful? I mean, it doesn't even make sense! It's not all the time either. Sometimes it's totally fine, and others... Well, this whole "Congratulations your fingers think they're a tongue now and suddenly you've licked a doorknob!" thing is getting really old.

Since everyone else is asking questions:

Bonding Pacts: How revealing are the connections? Can you feel everything the other is feeling? Can you keep anything private?

Has anyone had a bad experience with a bond?

Did your bond help with corruption or beasthood?

Did you regret getting one?

[ ...and then another, since he might as well: ]

And unrelated: How many times have you died here? Does it have side effects?

[ By the 15th, this post will have disappeared off the network. ]

Okay

This isn't the most desperate, earth-shattering request out there. I know we have so many better, more important, things to be thinking about right now.

But I need help.




I've never had a marriage anniversary before - I mean technically but that was in Deerington I don't know if that counts?? I don't know how to plan this ...

[And, also, someone is under the monthly warmblood effect of wanting to spoil his significant other beyond measure. Or price, or reason. You'd think he'd have realized this by now, but here we are. He's also rambling. Have you ever seen Shiro flustered? Now you have.]


It has to be a good time. Seriously, I have to knock this out of the park.

What do you DO for this??

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.

[The video started with an opening shot of what looked like a bag of coal. It zoomed in on the tag attached with its blocky lettering and signature...

MERRY CHRISTMAS
-DARTH MAUL

The camera shifted a little as Keith crouched down next to it, and then turned it so that both he and the bag of coal were in the picture.

He smirked.]

Thanks, man. It'll help keep the house warm during the cold weather. Best gift ever.

[And click - he was gone.]

Alright, bitches. It's apparently been a hella long time since I've graced anyone in this timeline with my presence. I tried the whole reaching out one by one thing so as not to shock the system, but that shit got time consuming and my attention span is only so strong.

So, if you remember me, tell me, and maybe fill me in on important life developments. Or like. Just leave me a meme that sums up this shit hole the best.

...

Actually, everyone should leave me one of those. Chop, chop, get to it. Whenever Santa's elves aren't busy trying to eat your fucking face off or whatever.

[ She goes to shut off the feed but flicks it on literally two seconds later. ]

Is there weed in this place, by the way? Asking for a friend.

[Shiro it's like 7am, why are you awake, and why are you running around town.]

Has anyone - has anyone else seen that little girl?

[Oh, that's why.]

She's - dark hair. Not very tall. I - [Please hold, he's turning a corner, still jogging.]

Listen, people who've died can wash up here. We know that. It - it could be her.

[And Shiro is desperate to find out. One way or another. He has to know. What if it is? What if there's a chance. Just in case anyone is confused about what her he's talking about, he goes full silent hill dad calls out to something off-camera.]

Julia!

I have a request.

Well, a lot of requests. Tiny requests, for lots of people. Not necessarily just tiny people, though — tiny, tall, whatever. That is to say...any people can help. If you're a people? And you're a help? I would greatly appreciate that.

[From off screen, a voice that sounds like Tuck can be heard stage-whispering: "Tell them WHY..." ]

—Oh, right.

[Vyng clears his throat and puts on a pair of tiny-rimmed glasses to make himself at least a little dignified, and he continues.]



. . . You see, Sleepers. There is an artifact of...uh, great personal importance to myself. A relic, if you will, that bears the name of my Druidic family.

But a local has taken stewardship over this relic o' mine. They have offered to relinquish this relic into my custody — but! For a price. Namely, this list of assorted items that I'm attaching at the end of my message.

[With a quiet "this one, right here", he literally places a piece of paper over the camera. "Too close?" Vyng pulls the paper back. He holds it there for awhile. If anybody looks, they can make out the following list:]

( DONATIONS NEEDED, PLEASE & THANK YOU )

[From behind the paper, Vyng asks:]

How long do I have to keep holding this?

[. . . ]

Is this good? I think it's good.

[Eventually, though, a digital copy is included at the tail of this message, with a tiny handwritten note at the bottom:]

⅁N⅄Λ - oxox ¡¡ǝɔuɐʌpɐ uı ⅄⊥
ＴＹ 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 ♥
x0xo - 𝓥𝔂𝓷𝓰

[ The feed opens to show two men in the Archives. Martin is tall, and stout, with a friendly if not slightly nervous expression as though he might be a little camera shy. Beside him, Jon Sims looks like an underfed wraith of a man: he's gaunt and exhausted, but at least he holds himself at ease for the first time in months. Those who spend time in the Archives have likely seen him in passing, and it's a shock to see him smiling.

He clears his throat and leans forward to address the camera. The feed speckles into static with the movement, distorting briefly around his eyes. ]

Hello. My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am joined by Martin Blackwood.

Hello! [ Martin lifts a hand to give a small wave to the camera. ]

We were both residents of Deerington, though our memories of the experience are... incomplete.

So we're asking people to come forward with their memories - either Deerington, or Trench, or even at home. Anything weird or supernatural that might help us get a better understanding of what’s happening here - or what might happen, I guess. And how to deal with it? There's a lot to be learned from our own experiences. And - and sometimes it just helps to talk about it?

[ This all sounds well and good, but Jon looks uneasy, frowning down at the sheaf of papers in his hands. He clears his throat and continues, more steadily: ]

Additionally, I have a warning to issue. There have been instances of... unusual books and artifacts being found throughout Trench.

They will probably have a weird effect on you, or the people around you, if you read them, or mess with them or anything. You might even know as soon as you see one that there’s something kind of... off about them?

If you encounter anything which strikes you as [ there's a twist of exasperation at this gross oversimplification: ] cursed, please alert myself or Martin immediately.

We've seen these kinds of things at home before, so we have loads of experience dealing with them. We can help. Just let us know and we'll be right there.

[ Jon looks directly at the camera again, and for a moment visual distortion swallows the feed: there is a shivering bloom of static and an uncanny intensity to his eyes, as though he is truly seeing you, the viewer, from the other side of town. You can make out Martin's nervous smile, and then it clicks off. ]

(( Permissions and info if you'd like to provide a spooky memory! Statements given via the network will not invoke the consequences described. It's safe... for now. ))

[sansa is once again in front of her customary backdrop with the stark sigil embroidered over weirwood branches. she wears a black dress with wolves picked out at the shoulder in shades of charcoal and grey. lady sits next to her on the couch in a matching embroidered collar, but...there is another wolf, bigger and tawnier, looking mournful in a simple braided leather collar. and there is a spaniel, too, wearing a collar of black velvet with 'GUCCI' sewn in pale bloodstone, in sansa's lap, which she pets absently. occasionally the spaniel tilts her head up for more petting if sansa's hand seems to still.]

Hallo, this is Sansa Stark. I'm very sorry to have to tell you my good friend Richie Tozier has gone back into the ocean––but he has friends there that he missed very much, and I know he'll be glad to see them again.

[she draws a breath.]

It would be well if we could keep the Painted Turtle Clinic running in his honor. Richie had been looking for a Blood Minister to work with for some time, but we'd welcome any sort of healer. Lady Ange is working there now, and she will help you to get settled.

We may need additional wards on Turtle Cove itself, as Smores will be staying with me, and assisting at the Sanctuary as well as the clinic. She's very clever and trained to be of service. If anyone has temporarily lost their sight, she should be glad to come by and guide you.

[now sansa hesitates. various animals nudge her reassuringly.]

If you are a Paleblood who has lost their sight or hearing, it may be that I could teach you a genjutsu technique that might help. You will need to have good chakra control and a pet or animal companion besides your omen. Dogs are said to be best, and hellhounds are very well-suited, but we do have batcats still in need of homes at the Sanctuary, and ravens are good, if you have one that will stay with you. You can find me at the Sanctuary, or ask the lantern imps for the Rookery, and you only have to follow the rocks with turtles to the Painted Turtle Clinic. Thank you.

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.

[The video was brief, kind of like that moment when you activated the camera on your phone and forgot it was in selfie mode. The omni shook and rotated, leaving the viewer with a dizzying array of scenery that was kind of blurry and hard to make out. It was dark, though, like the person broadcasting was in a closed room with no lights on.

As the video shifted, glimpses of a person could be seen. A hand... the fingernails-turned-claws bitten down short as if trying to cover the transformation... a burn scar on the right side of a face... dark, almost black, hair with a purple tint, long-ish, shaggy looking, a thin white streak with a extremely slight violet hue to it near the left temple... pale skin... deep cobalt eyes that looked exhausted with dark tired bruises underneath from lack of sleep...]

Shit-...

[And the video was gone. It was just voice now, Keith's voice, but raspier than usual, worn sounding, loaded with regret and guilt and just... sad.]

I um... [He was hesitant. Unsure.] I wanted to... apologize. [His tone faltered, like he was searching for words, having trouble forming them and getting them out.] I... I did a lot of stuff last month. Just um... Yeah. The Reckoning took care of it.

But... if you still want... you know. Fine. I understand. I won't stop you.

[And then the feed shut off.]

[The video clicks on to show Shiro, sitting at a dining table - in the Mouse House, for anyone who's been there before. He looks... different. Hollowed-out. More exhausted than usual, which is saying something, for him. But the biggest difference? His greying hair has gone completely white. All of it.]

[His hands are curled around a mug, with the omni propped up on something else.]

Hey, feels like long time, no see.

[The smile he goes for falls flat. He reaches down with his left hand, the real hand, to ruffle the fur of his Omen, the lion with her head in his lap.]

First of all... I'm sorry for what happened, recently. [The Beasthood Incident.] I want to thank the people who helped me out. You know who you are, and - I'd rather not get into it more than that, please.

That aside - I've really noticed there aren't a lot of us left from the Dream. From Deerington. That's no one's fault. It's just a little alarming to realize. Maybe it's better forgotten - I don't know. But, I'm offering what I have to anyone who wants to learn.

Either what Deerington was, what happened there, who was involved. Anything I still have.

I don't think it should be forgotten. Not after what was done to get us here. After what people went through to make it possible to wake up here. And who we lost in the process.

[He takes a deep breath, and lifts up the coffee mug for a drink. You know, to get himself centered and everything.]

[Except... the mug stopped steaming halfway through his speech. Something heavy slides around inside instead, and impacts Shiro's face with an audible THUD. His head snaps back, which allows the object to go plummeting down to the tabletop.]

[It's a solid brick of frozen coffee.]

[It isn't even melting in the summer weather. Just sitting there. Mocking him. Another slow, deep breath, to keep his eye from twitching.]

... also, if any coldbloods out there want to... help with this... blood ability mess? I'm... listening.

This is general alert to all those in Hamlet Crossing or anyone in the vicinity of Cassandra!

I was just alerted to what looks like an old-fashioned witch burning. You know, with the whole torches and pitch forks and screaming mobs and such. I didn't think that was possible since almost all of us seem to mostly have some kind of magic, but it's happening to a fellow Sleeper!

I know him too: he looks like Vyng, a Sleeper I've met before. I'm staying hidden for the moment so I can try and find out more how I can help, but I won't be for long.

If you want to meet up and help somehow, it will be greatly appreciated! It looks pretty dangerous though, so keep that in mind, and be ready to have to fight out a pretty bloodthirsty bunch.

Also, if you really, really have a problem with fire, you might want to sit this one out. That is all!

[sansa's usual raven tapestry background has been replaced by one of her direwolf sigil framed by weirwood leaves and branches. a matching version is emblazoned on the front of her charcoal dress, the branches wrapping around her leaves and over her shoulders, where they are joined by raven feathers interspersed with silver scale mail pieces and sweeping around her neckline, cut just low enough that the dark bloodstone buckle of her needle necklace rests against her skin. lady wears a matching collar at her side sewn with little weirwood leaves and chips of amethyst and pale bloodstone, joined by tiny black feather pieces at the back. her hair is braided back and gathered into her usual half-ponytail; her expression is solemn, a little wistful and sad. for once her white raven omen rests on her shoulder, her hounds in the courtyard sleeping peacefully among the mushrooms.

sufficient time has passed to prove that people are no longer possessed by whatever made them so difficult in july (some of them even came by to apologize for an incident involving vi and a basement). she has already told some of her friends that she means to reveal her name when it's safe enough, and that certainly seems to be the case this first week of august.]

Hallo, most of you know me as Alayne Stone, but I'm afraid that's not my name. I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell, the rightful Lady Protector and Warden of the North in the Seven Kingdoms. My enemies in that realm murdered my Lord Father when he was Hand of the King and seized the Iron Throne. They have taken everything from me–my home, my family, my wolf, my name. They held me hostage while my brother and mother waged war in order to avenge him and rescue me. They will hold me hostage no longer.

I had been hiding as Alayne Stone for over a year before I came here. The Queen Regent thought I helped to kill her son, the cruel and unlawful king who murdered my father in the first place, and she has had a bounty placed on my head. Know then that I am innocent of that crime, and my blood on your hands will drive you to madness even as I crawl out of the sea, and you will not see even one of the golden dragons she promises.

[sansa pauses and glances down at her lap, briefly and sorrowfully, and then back up at the omni camera.]

I never wanted to deceive any of you. [...this is probably not true, depending on who's watching.] I can only beg your forgiveness, and offer in exchange what protection I am able. The words of House Stark are "Winter is Coming;" they serve as a reminder that trouble will find us as certain as autumn turns to winter. I've found that is as true here as anywhere, even if they call it the season of bone. I have done my best to fortify the Sanctuary and my home against all danger, be it corruption or starvation or the cold, and I will always offer guest right to any who seek it at the Rookery. And I will continue to aid the city of Trench to the best of my ability, whether or not any of you choose to forgive my deception. It is my duty as a Stark of Winterfell, and I will uphold it no matter where I happen to be. I would swear it on the Doorway, if it would give any of you any comfort.

[she means it. she smiles, wistful again.]

Thank you for listening to me. I shouldn't expect anybody here to care about the politics of my realm, and I won't burden you with them any longer. If any of you have need of any clothes or what bloodstone I can make, you can find me here at the Rookery, or at the Sanctuary often enough. I am very sorry that I lied to all of you.