יְהוּדִית ● "Ravine" (
whip_poor_will) wrote in
hadriel_logs2018-09-02 04:13 pm
Entry tags:
long and weary my road has been. [OPEN]
Who: Ravine and You.
What: Worn-out reaper needs a nap. Decides to rearrange your stuff and sleep patterns instead.
Where: All over the Murder Islands.
When: Throughout September.
Warnings: Breaking and entering with a chance of friendship, frustration, or rain. Will update accordingly.
As usual, please check out Ravine's permissions post for ideas if you'd like anything specific.
I. Home Invasion;
Between Atem and Carlisle, she's come out of sealing soul wounds in worse conditions. Ravine, however, could think of far less important things to break off a piece of her own 'self' to, regardless of the opinions the recipients may have on the matter.
All things considered, she should have known better. She had learned better. Amelioration from Psychopomps was never intended to be used the way Ravine has in these past few months, and now her spirit is paying a high price for it... Not simply by her weary state, but visions of a future -- any future -- becomes quickly distorted and incoherent more than ever before. The echoes of thoughts are garbled sometimes, like a terrible cellular signal.
Suffice to say, she isn't going to be telling anyone's fortunes anytime soon.
Rather than lingering in the loneliest corners of the city as is her typical habit, she finds herself compelled to rest more often. Reapers don't sleep, but what she needs is something very close to it.
So much so that one is very likely to find her sprawled face-town on top of the bed of a total stranger, or couch surfing -- her long, gangly legs hanging comically over the edge in a most awkward position. For Ravine, what should be uncomfortable is just another state of being.
Other times, she gets bored, 'waking up' to find herself restless and agitated in ways only the dead could understand. She calms herself by meticulous moving some things around. Some is so subtle that the owners may not even notice the feng shui in their home. It's annoying at best, and alarming at worst for anyone unfortunate enough to find a towering death spirit either couch surfing or moving furniture around.
In other words, she's basically that asshole ghost haunting your place by stealing your stuff and putting it somewhere else. Have fun with that.
II. Sleepwalking;
For those unlucky enough to not notice the sleeping reaper in their home, they're more likely to find out in a less appealing way.
Whether you're having a pleasant dream or reliving your most terrible nightmare, Ravine's soul is pulled towards the most adjacent minds. Sometimes she plays spectator. Other times, she can be caught clearly invading the subconscious of another.
If she were still human, it would have been much worse. She could have easily trapped a person inside their own head without ever even intending for it to happen. Fortunately, her own unmended state does not lead to such extremes, but it is distressing for those who are unaware and unprepared for the intrusion.
After all, she is missing pieces of her soul. You don't just give those away without there being consequences. Most of the times it's madness, and sometimes...
Well, she's still here, for better or for worse. Depends on how embarrassing or traumatic your dream may be.
Don't worry, it'll pass.
What: Worn-out reaper needs a nap. Decides to rearrange your stuff and sleep patterns instead.
Where: All over the Murder Islands.
When: Throughout September.
Warnings: Breaking and entering with a chance of friendship, frustration, or rain. Will update accordingly.
As usual, please check out Ravine's permissions post for ideas if you'd like anything specific.
I. Home Invasion;
Between Atem and Carlisle, she's come out of sealing soul wounds in worse conditions. Ravine, however, could think of far less important things to break off a piece of her own 'self' to, regardless of the opinions the recipients may have on the matter.
All things considered, she should have known better. She had learned better. Amelioration from Psychopomps was never intended to be used the way Ravine has in these past few months, and now her spirit is paying a high price for it... Not simply by her weary state, but visions of a future -- any future -- becomes quickly distorted and incoherent more than ever before. The echoes of thoughts are garbled sometimes, like a terrible cellular signal.
Suffice to say, she isn't going to be telling anyone's fortunes anytime soon.
Rather than lingering in the loneliest corners of the city as is her typical habit, she finds herself compelled to rest more often. Reapers don't sleep, but what she needs is something very close to it.
So much so that one is very likely to find her sprawled face-town on top of the bed of a total stranger, or couch surfing -- her long, gangly legs hanging comically over the edge in a most awkward position. For Ravine, what should be uncomfortable is just another state of being.
Other times, she gets bored, 'waking up' to find herself restless and agitated in ways only the dead could understand. She calms herself by meticulous moving some things around. Some is so subtle that the owners may not even notice the feng shui in their home. It's annoying at best, and alarming at worst for anyone unfortunate enough to find a towering death spirit either couch surfing or moving furniture around.
In other words, she's basically that asshole ghost haunting your place by stealing your stuff and putting it somewhere else. Have fun with that.
II. Sleepwalking;
For those unlucky enough to not notice the sleeping reaper in their home, they're more likely to find out in a less appealing way.
Whether you're having a pleasant dream or reliving your most terrible nightmare, Ravine's soul is pulled towards the most adjacent minds. Sometimes she plays spectator. Other times, she can be caught clearly invading the subconscious of another.
If she were still human, it would have been much worse. She could have easily trapped a person inside their own head without ever even intending for it to happen. Fortunately, her own unmended state does not lead to such extremes, but it is distressing for those who are unaware and unprepared for the intrusion.
After all, she is missing pieces of her soul. You don't just give those away without there being consequences. Most of the times it's madness, and sometimes...
Well, she's still here, for better or for worse. Depends on how embarrassing or traumatic your dream may be.
Don't worry, it'll pass.

1st
But this is of course different, the dream ripples and shakes, attempting to get a hold of the new presence there, trying to find a meeting point between logic and absurd. He knows her, he missed her, but she does not belong here. The surroundings enclose around her, menacingly, it might not be her imagination.
"You lost your way." A child's voice addresses her, and the representation of Atem's consciousness as a little kid — yes, that kid — looks at her from above. He might look like in his tender years of being Pharaoh at first glance, but here, inside his mind he cannot hide the years he's been around, the look in his eyes weight every one of them.
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"Excuse me?" She arches a brow, facing the familiar visage of the boy prince she had once met... No, Yehudit met. It's strange, remembering that now, like a real memory of that little girl long dead and forgotten.
But Ravine isn't lost. Is she? All she needed was a moment's rest. That's all...
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Atem reaches for her hand and holds it as if was the most normal thing to do.
"You look so old." And tired, but mostly old.
"Why are you here?"
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Such as the child being the one to blink from one place to the next. Ravine's eyes fall down to the boy beside her, taking her gloved hand into his own. Her expression softens. Where many would take offense, she finds amusement in his comment.
Not old enough, clearly.
"You think so? I like to say that I look pretty good for my age." She chuckles, but then is more serious: "As for why I am here... I must have fallen asleep. It is not something that I normally do. When I sleep, my mind tends to wander into places it should not."
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As for the rest, "Hmm, it's not really safe in here, but don't worry, I will not let you get more lost than you already are." For as old and experienced as Ravine might be, in her current state who knows if she would be able to fend against whatever Atem's mind might be capable of, it is not the Puzzle by any means but he himself could probably get lost in it if he allowed it, after all, his soul and mind are as old as hers.
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home invasion;
With Alphys gone, things are... Okay, well, they're not actually tidier. In fact, they might be worse. Rose has never been the best at taking care of herself and that hasn't changed. Still, she has a pretty good idea of where things are at any given time. That's why when she can't find her guitar pick, she squints skeptically at the spot she knows she put it.
At first, she chalks it up to just forgetting. Maybe she was a little too stoned when she last played and truly thought she put it somewhere else. But then it happens again, this time with a plate. It wasn't on the counter, it was on the table. She's sure of it. Then, the couch is moved across the room and that's when she really can't ignore something strange is going on in here.
"Alright, what the fuck." She knows enough to know when she's being had. Her yokai senses are sharp, too, and helps her sense a disturbance in the force.
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This time, she isn't mostly here for the pets, and especially not at Alphys' request. Even the wolf seems to be made aware of that when Ravine manifests in the dwelling, exhausted as she has ever been. Parts of her soul missing.
Some rest will do. That's all she needs.
When Rose returns, her search will end with a tall and gangly woman sprawled on her couch first in the most uncomfortable position. Was she there before? It's hard to say, but in the blink of an eye, there is a slender, giant woman napping in the living room. And that's all that matters.
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Wolfie actually finds the woman first, snuffling curiously and giving a soft snort. He recognizes this one so his tail gives the smallest of wags. "Uh," says Rose, eloquently.
She thinks she would have remembered a body in their apartment. Is it a body? No, she appears to be breathing. Still- "Hey, you got the wrong house." Or maybe she doesn't. Had Alphys finally got a new roommate in the blond's absence that she'd forgotten to mention? This is really bringing up more questions than it's answering, unfortunately.
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For the wolf, Ravine doesn't give off any sort of distinct scent. However, her deathly presence would be enough to set off any of his natural instincts.
Eyes slowly opening, she shifts her gaze to the wolf, and then to the woman in the room. Too exhausted to move, she resigns to her present location.
"Is it 'wrong' if I do not have a home of my own?" She pauses at that. "No, I believe that would make me an intruder."
Oh well.
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Home Invasion
"...Ah. Miss Ravine?"
Once that initial moment of tension has passed, all that lingers is amusement. What kind of prince would he be if he didn't welcome visitors to his abode?
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Or rather, Ravine is too big. Her boots dangle over the foot of the bunk, hanging in the air as she is sprawled face-first over the pillow. She can't feel the discomfort of her position, but that also means she can't feel comfortable, either.
Hearing Ianchus address her, Ravine just waves a gloved hand and makes a disgruntled, weary grunt into the fabric.
Strange, it almost seems like she's tangible.
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Ianchus hoists himself up with a little hup!, using his arms to keep himself pulled up as he looks at her with interest.
"Can I get you a drink, at least?"
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"I do not drink," she mumbles against the pillow over her face. "Nor eat, nor sleep. That is how it is meant to be."
But she is having problems with the latter part. Her dependency for sustenance has not changed. Not yet.
She hopes.
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home invasion!
But right now, he's planning on taking a nap, meaning he's sauntering into his shared room with Lup and starts to climb the rope ladder to his floating bunk... only to see a foot hanging over the side. He gets far enough up to peer over the side and see what the fuck is going on here, before reaching out a hand and giving her and experimental shove.
What the fuck is this.
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Try being the key word here. As she's been shifting between tangibility and ethereal, Taako just happens to touch her when she's a little more immaterial, his hand passing through her.
Somehow, she feels this. More like senses it. It's enough to pull her from her resting state.
"What."
Perhaps it is not her who should be saying that, but Ravine doesn't care.
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He holds on to one side of the rope ladder, using it to shift so he's grasping the end of the bed and he can lean more towards her face. "You better not be one of Lup's invitees or somethin', I know she can get weird with the girls she brings home but this is like, some new level of bullshit."
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"I simply needed a place to rest, nothing more. No one has 'brought' me here, let alone ordered like some takeout delivery."
Sorry, Taako. For reasons, Ravine finds the implications of such to be a little less than amusing.
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As it turns out, it wasn't Atem who was shifting his possessions around, but Ravine, a discovery he makes when he enters his cottage and finds her sprawled atop the bed beside the far wall. And having thought her to possibly be gone from this world, vanished into whatever plane her kind dissipate to when they use their own soul to patch that of another, to say he is caught off-guard is an understatement.
He fumbles with the papers and journals under his arm as his eyes land on her, dropping half of them. "You! Y- you're here!"
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His reaction is one she should have expected, but she's too tired to jest too much.
"Thought your home could use a touch more zen."
Okay, perhaps she can jest a little.
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"Wh- what are- what are you doing here? Alive? Or- or dead? An- an apparition of your former self?"
He's... not really sure of the answer, frankly.
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Oops, too late. It's more of a weary chuckle than an actual hearty guffaw, though.
"Technically, that is not much unlike the norm. I have always been an apparition of my former self."
Of Yehudit, to be more exact, but that is not a tale Carlisle is privy to like others are.
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I
He's sitting on the floor when she wakes up, earbuds of an iPod looped around his neck with the device in his pocket. If Ravine notices, Leo has died before. His soul was ripped out entirely against his will by his brother before his physical body was destroyed, which might makes a interesting feel of things for a psychopomp.
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When she does rouse 'awake' not long after his attempt to disturb her, the state of her company is not absent from her senses. But she has yet to regard it as she rubs a gloved hand over her blinking eyes.
My apologies. It was not my intention to intrude.
The words don't come out of Ravine's mouth, but a telepathic echo in Leo's mind. She's too weary to notice the difference.
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"Gah! Are you a ghost or something?" Not that he's really afraid of a spirit or anything like that. It's just all a bit startling.
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A ghost? Hardly. However, I am not what you could consider alive, either.
Reapers didn't interact or travel between the Zones as spirits do. When lost, a soul would be more confused, caught between tormenting the living and floundering among the dead. It is not a state of being that Ravine would categorize herself in.
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