groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2023-05-15 05:49 pm

the sunken | part i



THE SUNKEN






Welcome to the first log of Arc VI: the Sunken, which covers 15 May – 2 June and doubles as a test drive meme.

Back/forward date as needed! The calendar date suggestions are indicative.

The TDM is open to everyone! If you decide to apply to the game, you can get an invite from current players or the upcoming enabling meme — or participate in the test drive meme and get in touch @ [personal profile] groundrules to chat things over. We currently have 13 slots available for new players.

Test drivers can use this post for logs and network posts — old timers, please make your network posts at [community profile] eastbound.

LOST AT SEA | TEST DRIVE TOURISTS


You wake, gasping, in a stormy sea, your thoughts slowed to a confused trickle. Skill, floating wood or a kindly stranger — who you can’t understand — help you to reach shore.

Villagers discover you collapsed on sand and provide critical (if rickety) communication and translation devices. They say you are in Sunken Yancai, a fishing village progressively overtaken by waters and cursed by the secretive ‘ladies of the lake’ to transit through time.

■ Rescuers group newcomers and supply questionable village couture, warm meals and accommodations in abandoned, half-flooded homes or spare small boats anchored in Yancai’s waterways. Huddle up, recover your strength and don’t think too hard on why your memories are hazy over the next three days.

■ Come morning, you visit village leader Quanze Tsaymien, then the sorceress Karsa — who explains you are otherworlders summoned into Akhuras by undead lords who wish to weaponise you in their battle against humans and one another. Karsa is an associate of the Merchant, who leads otherworlders towards ancient transport beacons east.

■ One such beacon rests dormant in Yancai. The group must infiltrate the village and wait a few weeks until it shifts to a point back in time when the beacon was active.

■ Newcomers are handed passport papers with their new identities in Yancai, where they may be known as a bankrupt merchant, perpetually drunk sailor, whale hunter, raft surveyor, mermaid who has just gained their legs, crab collector... feel free to invent a dutifully hilarious apt role for their seaside sojourn.


OLD TIMERS | THE DRIFTING


You dragged yourself here in a haze. You arrived long ago, as if in a dream. You were born and bred in this village. In truth, your memories of reaching lively Yancai feel nebulous and alarmingly inconsequential.

Characters are facilitated new identities and dwellings by the Merchant, or believe they have had them all along.

■ A weary Karsa warns to say nothing to party members with altered memories, until the sorcery that affects them runs its course.

■ Memory-altered characters progressively regain their memories within three to five days (by 20 May). They have their memories partially or fully back at night ( midnight to 5 a.m.). Throughout the day, memory regains can trigger migraines, eerie confusion and paranoia.

Hauntings begin once characters have fully regained their memories.

■ Once everyone is ‘back to normal,’ Karsa explains that Yancai periodically transits through time. The memory alterations are a magical solution endorsed by the village council, which ensures locals mentally weather these shifts. Villagers continue to blithely accept you as part of the community.


(DON'T) HOLD YOUR BREATH


Karsa reunites the existing party and newcomers, issuing first assignments. The Merchants’s information suggests the beacon of Yancai will be online once the village travels in time within weeks. A dubious Karsa asks the party to check on the beacon, located in the former House of Commerce of the largely inundated merchants’ district. Reach it by rowing boat.

■ Villagers say the Master of Commerce, a famous musician, took precautions against intruders.

■ All ground and lower floor entryways of the palatial House were boarded to restrict flooding. To enter, pick locks or climb the putrid stairwell towards upper balconies.

Inside, the hissing of running water — and, in the lower levels, of thin, slippery leeches whose bite numbs your limbs, while they attempt to feed. You seem to experience pronounced vertigo when entering any decaying rooms covered in black mould.

■ The beacon is located on a dais in the basement vault room, where water rises near 1 meter. Only a few scattered scrolls and golden decorations remain among decorations, while a large ceiling carving writes, greed deafens man to the cries of his conscience; music sets him free.

■ Some tiles of the marbled floor stand out as you wade — step on one, and all doors abruptly slam shut, while dozens of obscured holes in the wall start to rapidly spill water, threatening to fill the room to the ceiling within the hour. You hear the tinny, waning sound of a village song played from a hidden source.

■ To stop the pouring water and open the doors, sing the song you hear, or find the music box that produces it amid debris on the water-covered floors. Wind it, and it plays its song in reverse, revealing the voice of a laughing elderly man who says, Depressingly, Anurr was right to worry.

■ Don’t forget to check the beacon — and report back to Karsa that it looks structurally untarnished.


THEY SLEEP


After surprising revelations at previous citadels, Karsa tasks you to investigate just how… permanent death is in Yancai. Villagers share that their dead are buried in a strange rite at sea — part of which will take place within days.

■ The dead are ‘entombed’ in one-man sarcophagi ships with carved and chained lids that depict their likeness. These burial boats are set at sea on the first day of each season and return three months later.

■ Join the harbours around 22 May, when mourners gather to receive the burial boats. Characters must pretend to be greatly anguished relatives, acquaintances or debt collectors to join the grieving.

■ The boats float towards you, seemingly of their own volition. Gaze afar and spot a boat carrying a man in black — the same who haunts some characters — who observes until the last burial ship has reached the piers, before he disappears.

■ Sailors draw up the boats and unpeel the untouched chains and lids, to reveal… no corpses. Peer closer and find neither biological signs (stench, liquids) of discomposure, nor the magical chillness of spaces where cadavers have lingered long. Scratch marks litter the inside of some boat lids.

■ Mourners seem grateful that the waters have ‘accepted’ the bodies. Some say that their relatives whose boats have yet to return must have been stolen by the ‘ladies of the lake,’ a villainous witch coven. Speak to mourners or sailors for clues.

■ Linger long near opened burial boats, and you feel tempted to throw yourself into the sea, slowly losing consciousness — until someone rescues you.


AMONG US


On 25 May, village leader Quanze Tsaymien drags the chained and half feral mistress Miang-si to households and Yancai’s largest market square.

The young woman, he says, was seduced by the ladies of the lake — the furtive witch coven that condemned Yancai to time travel. Luckily, the village elders have… coaxed Miang-si back onto the righteous path.

Miang-si is brought door-to-door to point out her 'accomplices.' Ill at ease, villagers whisper of similar witch hunts leading to false accusations and blood-curdling repercussions.

■ Both men and women are suspected and brought before Miang-si. Perhaps she takes an eerie interest in you, getting especially close to catch your scent, touch or remark on (in)visible hurts, or even dotingly kiss you. If you whisper quickly while she’s near, you might be able to ask one question.

■ If you are patient and kind to Miang-si, she briefly squeezes your hand as she withdraws. Within the hour, you find blood writ on your palm that warns, Our fat moon rises red.

■ If you are agitated, or if Quanze rushes her during your visit, Miang-si erupts into sudden, side-splitting cackling — while you find yourself croaking like a toad, or transforming into one and retaining human speech. The spell dissolves after eight hours.

Quanze’s long-suffering men say this sorcery breaks faster if you kiss one of the curmudgeonly emerald toads that hide in some of Yancai’s lakes. Catch one such delightful, slime-spitting creature or barter it from merchants at a costly premium.


ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT


A full moon is set to rise within days of Miang-si’s visit, on 27 May — just as Yancai shows signs of time shifting. Villagers are prone to stilling and staring askance, seeming lost or adrift.

The village itself evolves: one moment, the same house appears freshly new, then drowned, while waterways overfill with water, then seem barren. Overall, the village deteriorates.

■ That day, the sun suffers a midday eclipse, while droves of black birds circle the woods and village outskirts, attacking those who come close.

■ The waters increasingly thicken and darken, preventing boats from entering certain waterways.

■ An exceedingly bright moon and a diffuse lunar replica rise with nightfall. Come midnight, the village is alive with the sounds of ripping, structural collapse and shrieks. Tar-covered corpses emerge from the waters, clawing on and climbing up piers. They swarm, drawing passers-by into waters to drown them. Help them — and foremost, yourself.

■ Light and fire keep the dead at bay. On some waterways, wildfire now spells, WHAT IS WET WAS WRONGED

■ Weaker alone, fresh corpses climb into your rowing boat, pretending they are innocents who seek shelter. They betray themselves by speaking very slowly, struggling to keep track of the conversation or obliviously peppering it with details of their death. They stubbornly ask questions about you, repeating your answers, and become violent if you say they are dead. Push them into the water at first opportunity.

Quanze Tsaymien and other men of the village take arms, urging villagers to barricade in the nearest home, harbour or warehouse and weather the night. They advise to be silent and beware the dead who imitate living voices, warning not to touch any black mould or water that suddenly appear in your home — which alert the dead of your presence within.

■ Some dead try to tear you apart, while others seek to feed you a disgusting, tar-like black mould. A small taste of it makes you sluggish and feeble for two-three hours, while an entire fistful can kill.

■ If the undead infiltrate your house, hold your breath, do not move and keep from screaming. The dead have weak sight and olfactory senses and might pass you by, as long as you stay silent. It can be more efficient to fool than kill the dead.

■ By 5 a.m., houses start to replenish themselves, gaining a new appearance, while water and mould retreat. The dead withdraw into waterways. Outside doors have been marked with blood: vertical lines tell how many living people remain inside; horizontal ones count how many within died overnight.

■ You step to seize a brave new day — while Yancai enters a new time period (further details due in the next plot update).


NOTES

■ The game enabling meme goes up on 25 May.

Hit up available NPCs here or in their new inbox!

QUESTIONS.

beitangmoran: (Default)

[personal profile] beitangmoran 2023-05-25 03:55 pm (UTC)(link)
I would say that's about half of the story. The other half being, there is someone behind all this, who created these undead lords, and he's been haunting our steps every step of the way.

But the goal is still the same for us. Escape the undead lords so they won't steal us for their own purpose. The man currently funding this little expedition has come to the conclusion that it is the best course of action as well.
beitangmoran: (stare2)

[personal profile] beitangmoran 2023-05-25 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
... Shang Yu?

[He's quite certain he himself hasn't seen the boy around, but does that mean anything? And does it matter now, given how much this kind of memory is likely to affect Xunxian.]

... No matter what happened, he's fine now. You know that.
scrapgege: (Default)

[personal profile] scrapgege 2023-05-25 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh...

[Well, these things happen, don't they? Xie Lian does wear pretty non-descript clothing, after all.]

No harm done.

[Still, there is something about this stranger that feels... familiar. A tingling in the back of his brain that he can't seem to shake.]

Well... there isn't much to do right now, really. The pot of stew is ready, if you'd like a bowl?
lanclan: (31)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-25 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The tinkling earrings are a pretty touch, he supposes to be distracting since everything about this Ghost King leans toward Unnervingly Handsome, but admittedly it all works in the guy's favour. ]

I am, I have family here. Wangji is my younger brother, you would know him if you saw him. [ With a glance down at his own white-blue robes. ] I don't know whether you need or even like to eat, but if so please accept an invitation to tea.

[ ... Oh! c': ]

It is in a cave.
Edited 2023-05-25 19:02 (UTC)
lanclan: (75)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-25 07:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He does not want to ask, but, ]

In what state did they manage to survive?
lanclan: (81)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-25 07:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Collect money, pay attention to the device, and mind the bear. Right.

"Very well, I seem to have the best guide on offer."

Sizhui, what has you been up to?

"Are you well-known to these people?"
downswing: (wrist)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-25 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)


"That body's tongue is your tongue," murmured to the side indifferently, for let it not be forgotten that Wei Ying's troubles and qualms are a product of misfortune and his own wretched design, alike. This world, alive around them, brims with humidity and humour, with a sense of undeniable, petty satisfaction at Wei Ying's ongoing, vocal plight. He compounds his woes with complaints.

Lan Wangji, by his nature the stoic of the pair, simply — coexists. First, with the heat that builds in steady, hefty increments, blanketing. Then, with the resonance of hums and croaked purring, with water clinking and dripping and echoing, shrill. With the hungry, rapid beats of his heart, the crackling of leaves, when grasshoppers and flies drift closer, from blades of lake grass and bracken.

The toad in Wangji's hand squeals one mighty sound that fills out its belly, then thins to wheezing, its eyes black and beady and wrong. He starts to pull back — a long, slick, pinkened tongue spears out — and he doesn't know how, or why, but he's immobile.

He feels the appendage land on his lips, crawl over the shape of them, thin. Swivel. Some part of him shrivel. More fissures. Finally, life sparks back in his limbs and he pulls back, barely refraining from releasing the creature, but summarily pushing it towards Wei Ying, its... mouth close to the smaller one of its husband.

It is at this time that, realising it is perhaps twice Wei Ying's new size and a few notches up the food chain that the captive toad thinks, ah. A fellow frog.

Its mouth opens wide, mean and hungry.

"Tsk," hisses Wangji, two spare fingers tapping the creature on its head, until its mouth snaps shut, grudgingly obedient. He nods, then, towards Wei Ying.

"Proceed."

Look it in the abyss of its starved mouth and kiss.

wooden_one: (neutral | what now)

[personal profile] wooden_one 2023-05-25 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Chu Wanning frowned in the way he does when he wasn't certain how to broach something.

Because, while yes, one shouldn't listen to something telling you to baaa like a sheep, he also meant....not listening to voices calling you useless and stupid things like that.

Especially when he didn't feel it was true.

But he wasn't sure how to convey that. Or even if he should. He's so bad at conversations and he's even worse with people. What if he's wrong? What if he offers direct encouragement and it wasn't necessary? That would be embarrassing for Sizhui, surely. (It would be devastatingly embarrassing for himself.)

So he turned his head instead.

"See that you are." He says it in a way that many who knew of him may assume was haughty. Especially when he follows up with. "Jiuge is a powerful spiritual weapon."

Which is such a non-sequitur.
downswing: (layla)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-25 08:39 pm (UTC)(link)


( A gift, then. Perhaps of their travels. He accepts, for it is folly to decline, juvenile and discourteous. In his hand, the stem grovels and appears nearly wilted, then strong, his natural qi seeking out the shape and edges of the sorcery within the flower. Then, he relinquishes it in his qiankun pouch, hand agile when he ties the relevant knots after.

Come on. And he does, while they assume position in a narrow, fast boat, the likes of which he has navigated long enough to know where to head, oar trailing like weeds behind him. The water feels thickened, dragging. He bats the oar in once, then again, setting a slowed, trickling pace, their vessel half floating, half stymied still. As if the current and not Lan Wangji's exercise propels it. )


Apologies. ( This, child of courtesy, inevitable. He must ask. ) You swim?

pathologise: (Default)

[personal profile] pathologise 2023-05-25 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I... drink.

( which was obvious given her state but adrienne wasn't going to admit that she also cried, especially on the worst of her nights. though they tended to come with slightly self-destructive days and she wasn't going to inflict those on clara )

I... feel like I should ask what some of the other places were like but I don't know if I can.

( given adrienne's original reaction to things and being hungover-- she didn't know how much she'd process it. so she starts with a gentler in )

If there were cities I assume they're nothing like I know?
downswing: (survive)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-25 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)


Decisions do not look perishing men in feeble eyes.

( Correction, contradiction, silent and susurrating adjustment: perhaps there is an edge of metallic, sharp grudge to this, a sullenness to his disposition. He has known men who cut fine weapons from their orders, made their will into thin blades, their manipulation into darts that slip between ribs and nails' beds. )

Words do not bleed at feet. ( Words are candidly dismissed, easily forgotten, lest they originate with blood of one's blood, borrowed or fostered kin, with elders, with men to whom one is bound in duty.

This is battle, the boy-child settled at Lan Wangji's side as if he would will his width tripled to become his shield. Unbidden, careful to pronounce petty wounds at the boy's side with a tired, negligent swing, Wangji sheathes his sword back in her fetters, walking on. )


Death is no kindness. Where they retain enough flesh, we shall give the fallen rites.

( ...unless, once more with feeling, the dead dissolve into crumbs and bone and debris. That too can happen. )

downswing: (deed done)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-25 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
( ...all the same. Which is to say, in terms uncertain, his brother's appetite and palate have been both offended in ways material, inescapable and underestimated.

Shame should wash every part of Lan Wangji that isn't eagerly pining for a hole in hot, dark earth to rescind himself. No, no. He must not show face further. Only pour again, until his brother's cup is once more filled, because if they suffer to save face, then they might as well bleed.

Cough with feeling. )


Zewu-Jun's kindness honours him. ( A moment, then: ) You have lodgings?

( If everyone is assigned dwellings, then surely Xichen — ) Retain them.

( — cannot have worse than a cave. )

lanclan: (39)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-25 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I admittedly didn't pay attention because I did not think I would be staying here.

[ But! He fishes out the documents for Gao Long and his profession as a Lotus Picker, handing them over to Wangji as they both drink terrible tea with straight faces. ]

I was given these.
clavesregni: (107 03 01)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-05-25 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[As she steps further into the space, Caitlyn wrinkles her nose at the scent of mould. It's pungent, musty, damp, and altogether unpleasant.

Heading in the direction that the stairs ought to be, she finds herself sloshing loudly through water almost up to her knees. The dim blue light illuminates a thick patch of what looks like black mould high on the ceiling, and as she draws near it, Catilyn suddenly feels dizzy, nauseous, and her ears are ringing.]


Do you feel that?
wantshappiness: (neutral || would you like to eat lunch t)

[personal profile] wantshappiness 2023-05-26 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm okay." She answers as if it were reflex, to assure others she was fine and that no one should be worried about her.

And then, because she knows a thing or two about dreams, "What kind of bad dream was it?"

thedreamer: (0527)

[personal profile] thedreamer 2023-05-26 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
Nikolai Lantsov! An absolute pleasure. Not a man of faith—noted—but a tinkerer, a builder, a lover of hats. Excellent. To be continued then, when the undead aren't being rather more persistent. I expect to hear all about it.

[ Yes, every detail. Naturally. Why not share the story of your life with the strange man with a bowtie? The Doctor, of course, is intrigued as he always is at meeting someone new; a man with guns and a disgruntled general, a man who seemingly hails from a place of war, yet prefers designing anything but weapons of destruction. How bad is the war, if there is one? Ongoing, stalemate, protracted peace? Where is he from? What else does he like to design? If he's not a man of faith, what is he a man of? Things the Doctor will need to know, things he won't hesitate to ask, because what are boundaries? Certainly nothing he has any concept of at all. ]

We're in luck, if needs must—I'm a champion swimmer. I can hold my breath, well, far longer than a human. Do be careful of the water, try not to get it on your skin. Nasty business we've encountered before under entirely different circumstances. Now, when we make it to shore, I have a handy gadget that'll sort out any unwanted friends trailing behind us and give us a running start.

Oh, and to your question: yes!

[ Is the Doctor a name or an auspicious title. He doesn't clarify or explain further because that should explain everything. Right? ]
rumorate: (124)

lemme know if this doesn't work

[personal profile] rumorate 2023-05-26 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
[Allison's got a ghost of her own, which means most evenings she doesn't leave the boat. She sits at the table and has a drink with her husband, if only for a few minutes. It's nice just to hear his voice, and while she knows this is going to be a future problem, she doesn't want to let it go just yet.

So when her brother pops in, watching the windows for his own spectre, Ray tips his head back, with a small, sad smile. "Let me guess. Another one of your brothers?"

She laughs.]


With six of them, it's safe to say I never run out.
nanny: (pic#15460187)

[personal profile] nanny 2023-05-26 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
( amusing, the way two very different people can somehow appear mirror images of one another — nikolai's entitled disgruntlement to his splattered coat, and zoya's fierce outrage at sludgy gunk clotting in her hair. a soldier at heart, she doesn't hesitate to spring to action, more a being of outright rage than clever tactics, not that a cadaver is worth much wit in the place of strength. with nikolai's help it's back overboard and into the sea with all it's bile, rendering nikolai's brief voyage into the water a complete waste of time. as she might've predicted, had he conferred. had she made herself known to him.

all of it seems quite adolescent in hindsight. enforcing distance from him, running to his aid like a warsick maiden, not anticipating the attack of the vile thing he pulled from the trenches. not that zoya would face her shame in that matter — she could probably intend to say something venomous and harsh and only halfway charming, but then nikolai is roughly handling her, and she immediately wonders how shortsighted it would be to toss him off deck with their rotted friend, or if that lays out of the realm of a lesson, and into outright abuse. in fact, she has intention when she moves — limbs suddenly too heavy to respond with her usual speed, intent to shove him in the chest like a misbehaving child, but ultimately just wrapping around his coat sleeve, too sluggish to lift higher than that.

she looks at her hand there, as if it belongs to someone else. this weak, almost delicate grasp, her thumb too full of exhaustion to rub the embroidery at the cuff. her eyebrows pull together, but even that seems tiring. frowning, she takes a breath, before forcing all the effort she has in her body towards ramming her shoulder into him, not half as harsh as it should be, twisting her body to cut him off.
)

I'm fine. ( turning, her palms lay flat on the ship's sides, shoulders slumping, head feeling heavy while she lazily spats the blackness from her mouth. she wonders if it would be so terrible to fall in over the side, sink to the silt bottom of the sea and into that festering dark. ) Go ... tie a rope, or something. Touch a sail. I don't care.
westviews: (BRIGHT)

they sleep - MAY 22

[personal profile] westviews 2023-05-26 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
Oddly enough, this isn't the first or even second time that Wanda's witnessed someone plunge into water without much warning. She hears it more than she sees it, turning around during her careful exploration to catch the tail-end of a figure dropping into the water with a splash.

It's reflexive, the wave of her hand and the red magic that pulls whoever fell into the water back onto solid ground. It's not necessarily a soft landing, but it's someone's lungs out of the water, and that's what matters.

"Hey, you okay?" Wanda doesn't quite register who it is as she crosses over to the now very drenched person.
silverneedles: (083)

[personal profile] silverneedles 2023-05-26 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ Wen Qing drops her hand from Wen Ning's, then squats down beside him. Why is he here? But she doesn't ask that, just reaches out to catch his chin between her fingers. Her eyes aren't quite as hazy, some clarity returning to her. The haze of alcohol still lingers, a pounding presence in her temples. But the image isn't disappearing, even as she touches him. ]

Wen Ning?
Edited 2023-05-26 02:55 (UTC)
westviews: (LUNCHBOX)

[personal profile] westviews 2023-05-26 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Wanda isn't anyone's keeper (Pietro aside), but she does think it necessary to keep loose tabs on the people from home, especially when she herself has just regained her senses. Not a fun time. It's not particularly Bucky that she's looking for, but she thinks she spots him--she calls out to him, even, but he doesn't hear her. Can't hear her, maybe.

Not great.

She loses sight of him, and while her intuition tells her to be cautious, she's stubborn enough to press onward, regardless. She approaches the alley.]


Hello?

[Maybe he's not back to himself, or... something else is afoot. You never know, in this place.]
westviews: (MANNERS)

[personal profile] westviews 2023-05-26 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
Depends on where we're going.

[It's almost a joke, breathed out as she gives a helpless nod that does nothing for the ache beneath her temples. A stranger, she'd never allow. But she knows him. Somehow.]

You know me, don't you?
inkfire: (044)

[personal profile] inkfire 2023-05-26 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ Mo Ran blinks at him, then looks at him with concern, sweeping in to grab the sword and move it away from the bed; no need for anyone to step on it or otherwise hurt themselves. ]

I heard you crying. [ He's soft when he says it. Mo Ran isn't great at comforting people with words, but he tries. Wishes he had thought to bring in food. ] Were you trying to fight off a ghost?
westviews: (BREEZE)

[personal profile] westviews 2023-05-26 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
[The more he speaks, the more Wanda's frown deepens.]

Beauties. Right.

[Though it suddenly occurs to her...]

This is probably a bad time to ask, but how well do you fight?

[Maybe not the worms, leeches, whatever, but she's sure there's worse in here.]
westviews: (DROWN)

[personal profile] westviews 2023-05-26 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
They're still there.

[Thankfully. She'd hate to see this crew with their minds wiped clean.]

Definitely not fun reclaiming them. Don't think there's a way to avoid a migraine with that.