The Ferryman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theferryman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecrossing2024-12-14 11:51 am
theferryman) wrote in thecrossing2024-12-14 11:51 am
Entry tags:
voice + text
[You feel it before you hear it: an uncanny sensation like you aren't alone, like someone just out of sight has fixed their attention on you.
They're not hiding, though. The Ferryman is simply speaking, directly into all of your minds, as clear as if they were standing right beside you.]
It's starting.
Sorry. Was hoping you'd all have more time to rest before we got going. But when it's time, it's time.
We're going to Cross. Not now, but soon. You'll feel it when the moment gets here. And you need to be ready for what that means, when it does.
It's a dangerous journey. There's still a lot of yourself left to lose, even if it doesn't feel like it now. That's my role here. I can guide you through it. Keep you safe.
There's a cost. You'll have to give something up, a part of your life Before. A face. A feeling. A memory. That's your toll to Cross. You pay it to me, and you won't get it back.
You don't have to pay. But if you're not with me, I can't keep you safe. You'll have to make The Crossing on your own. And if you do, there's a chance you lose a whole lot more than what the toll is asking from you.
There's some time left still. You don't need to decide now. But you do need to decide. You'll find out soon what sort of toll The Crossing is asking for, this time around.
Come find me if you want to talk. I'll be where I always am.
[The connection is tenuous; message delivered, The Ferryman's voice fades from your mind. If you're quick, and you concentrate, you might be able to grab on long enough to ask a question or two more.
Otherwise, all that remains is the object that purports to connect you with the other souls, all tasked with making the same decision. Whether it's a page or a screen, there's a new message for you:]
A toll to be levied for safe passage
from the cavern to ǝɹǝɥʍǝsʅǝ
Hear a voice that causes you pain
words spoken with rage or grief or envy
fueled by hate or love or suffering
offer it to The Ferryman
and let go
[ ooc | And we're off! Remember: The Ferryman is (for now!) the only one who can communicate to everyone via voice; the rest of you are stuck with text! The only exception is if characters try to hijack the fading connection to talk with The Ferryman one-on-one; there's a header for those questions here.
Otherwise, consider this a mingle! Chat, threadhop, go nuts. ]
They're not hiding, though. The Ferryman is simply speaking, directly into all of your minds, as clear as if they were standing right beside you.]
It's starting.
Sorry. Was hoping you'd all have more time to rest before we got going. But when it's time, it's time.
We're going to Cross. Not now, but soon. You'll feel it when the moment gets here. And you need to be ready for what that means, when it does.
It's a dangerous journey. There's still a lot of yourself left to lose, even if it doesn't feel like it now. That's my role here. I can guide you through it. Keep you safe.
There's a cost. You'll have to give something up, a part of your life Before. A face. A feeling. A memory. That's your toll to Cross. You pay it to me, and you won't get it back.
You don't have to pay. But if you're not with me, I can't keep you safe. You'll have to make The Crossing on your own. And if you do, there's a chance you lose a whole lot more than what the toll is asking from you.
There's some time left still. You don't need to decide now. But you do need to decide. You'll find out soon what sort of toll The Crossing is asking for, this time around.
Come find me if you want to talk. I'll be where I always am.
[The connection is tenuous; message delivered, The Ferryman's voice fades from your mind. If you're quick, and you concentrate, you might be able to grab on long enough to ask a question or two more.
Otherwise, all that remains is the object that purports to connect you with the other souls, all tasked with making the same decision. Whether it's a page or a screen, there's a new message for you:]
from the cavern to ǝɹǝɥʍǝsʅǝ
Hear a voice that causes you pain
words spoken with rage or grief or envy
fueled by hate or love or suffering
offer it to The Ferryman
and let go
[ ooc | And we're off! Remember: The Ferryman is (for now!) the only one who can communicate to everyone via voice; the rest of you are stuck with text! The only exception is if characters try to hijack the fading connection to talk with The Ferryman one-on-one; there's a header for those questions here.
Otherwise, consider this a mingle! Chat, threadhop, go nuts. ]
no subject
[Okay, even they know that's not a full enough answer.]
The journey's more than that. It's about facing things. Accepting them. And letting them go.
no subject
It's up to us to decide, then, how much we can face at once.
[It's still a vague concept - how much more intensely could she face the knowledge she inherited before letting go of it? -, but it gives her at least some sense of why trying to give it all to the Ferryman at once might be a bad idea.]
no subject
[To clarify that boundary, if nothing else. But:]
But if it fulfills The Crossing's toll... Yes. You can offer what you like.
no subject
Some of the others seem to want to attempt the Crossing on their own. Perhaps those people already sought you out before me, but since we're going to have an assembly, could you tell me about the nature of the danger? How could anyone 'crossing' without your protection lose more than they bargained for?
no subject
[That doesn't mean they won't try though; it's just a caveat.]
Everything is different during The Crossing. You're different. Vulnerable. [They lay one hand on their chest.] You'll feel it when it happens. Like that, anything could be a danger. My job is to keep you safe.
no subject
...
I'll emphathise that at the meeting, then.
[It's all she can do. Ultimately, she can't force any of her toll-resistant companions to give up their memories. Once more, her restless worry is probably evident, so she again tries to ameliorate it with her words:]
Thank you for looking out for us.