middaeg | ( open ) aguril catch-all log

Entry tags:

( open ) aguril catch-all log

Who: Karin Koenig & you!
When: Throughout Aguril.
Where: Various.
What: Quests, full moon shenanigans, transformation troubles, etc. Open unless otherwise noted!
Warnings: Some body horror and potential violence, will update as needed if anything else particularly spicy comes up.

i. the lady in the lake ( quest )

[Though the job itself had been marked as being high-risk, Karin found herself drawn to the idea of confronting a ghost— for one thing, it wouldn’t be the first time, and if all of her experience running errands for ghosts was ever going to come in handy, it would have to be now. Heeding the provided warnings, she dresses for the weather and heads for the lake armed. She can’t help smiling to herself when the lake comes into view, steadily making her way towards the shore.]

If Yuri were here, he’d be losing his mind right about now.

[A man who can take the form of countless demons, terrified of ghosts. Her friend’s predicament will never not be funny to her. Perhaps you agreed to come on this job together beforehand and she’s offering the comment to break the silence, or maybe you’ve come here on your own and just happen to catch her talking to herself as she approaches, but either way, she rubs her gloved hands together to ward off the cold as she reaches the shore. Who’s up for some tag-team ghost whispering?]

ii. full moon fever ( the wilde )

[The idea had been to ride out whatever changes took hold during the full moon by spending the night outside the city, far from anyone who might get hurt in the process. In theory, it works— the night of the full moon finds Karin transformed, though not entirely unrecognizable: while still largely herself, feathers have erupted throughout her hair and down her neck and back, the coat she'd worn to ward off the cold having been completely destroyed by the wings that have pushed their way to the surface. Flying seems to be out of the question, her wings too new and not yet strong or large enough to bear her weight, but harpy instincts drive her to the trees, using newly-emerged talons to pull herself up into the branches and to hold tight as she travels well above the ground, eager to give herself an opportunity to at least stretch her wings, if nothing else.

What she hadn't considered was that there were countless others outside the city for the exact same purpose, and being just this side of feral, there's no telling what will happen should she encounter anyone else struggling with their own changes. Maybe you're out in the Wilde to run or hunt, to try and work through your own shift, or perhaps it's work or something else entirely that's brought you out this way— whatever the cause, there's a rustle in the trees above, followed by a flash of red feathers, as well as a growling coming from somewhere deeper in the woods. After all, new monsters aren't the only things just outside the city walls.]

iii. time may change me ( late aguril, closed to housemates & close cr )

a.
[The changes that had come with the full moon had largely been temporary, at least for now, but some permanent transformation has already begun to set in. For one, Karin keeps finding feathers in her hair at the most unexpected moments, and while she’d plucked the first few strays that had come in as though they were mere inconveniences, she’d quickly curbed the habit, reminding herself that fighting changes was only going to make them worse in the long run. Besides, being the same color as her hair, at least for the time being, the feathers tended to blend in.
The ears, on the other hand…

She sighs heavily while standing in front of the mirror hanging in the upstairs hallway of the house she’s come to call home, frowning at herself as she turns her head and pulls part of her hair up and back to examine the fine point her ear has come to, much more defined than it had been even a week earlier.

It’s getting harder and harder to cover them up, and while she knows that there will be far more jarring changes in her appearance soon… a large part of her just wants to hold onto being human for a little while longer, if she can.]

Maybe it’s not that noticeable…?

[Mm. Wishful thinking.]

b.
[Near the very end of Aguril, the ongoing changes are no longer what she would consider to be merely inconvenient or uncomfortable. At first, she doesn’t know what the cause might be— there’s no visual, only sudden and severe pain that seems to hum its way through each of her limbs, out to the very tips of her fingers. Walking becomes stiff and awkward as the pain itself becomes dull and continuous, and the last few days of the month, she’ll resign herself to being bedridden, retreating to her bedroom and curling up as best she can to try and sleep through the worst of it, when her body will let her.

By now, it’s more obvious to her what’s happening beneath the surface; she can feel herself getting lighter, whatever magic it is that’s responsible for the change seeing fit to hollow out her bones from the inside, a process that is proving itself to be long, drawn-out, and excruciatingly painful. While she won’t be entirely adverse to visitors, and will be willing to let friends outside the household know via the watch network that she’s indisposed, she can’t promise to be very good company.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As days passed and the full moon grew closer, Karin had found herself growing more and more anxious about what might happen when it finally arrived— even with all of the practical advice she had been given, there was no way to tell what was actually coming until it happened. As a result, she plans for the worst as best she can, spurred onward by the restless anxiety that grows more intense in the days immediately proceeding. She lets her housemates know where she’s gone— by way of a note, to avoid any of them insisting on going with her— and heads out past the wall well before dark. There’s an enclosed area of the Wilde designated for this exact purpose, and that’s where she intends to ride out her first full moon, should anything happen at all. Before dark, this all seems perfectly reasonable, or so she’s managed to convince herself.

Once night falls and the moons themselves are visible, it’s an entirely different story. A pained noise pierces the air as Karin finds herself suddenly down on one knee near the treeline, doubled over and gasping for breath as she feels her nails starting to be pushed out far too quickly by emerging talons, with a prickling sensation racing across her scalp as the muscles in her back begin to knot and shift beneath the skin, the pain of rapid growth causing her to feel winded. She grunts before crying out again, but this time the sound is utterly inhuman, a shrill screech that she doesn’t recognize, and her heart sinks as she realizes that while she thought she had prepared for the worst, there was no possible way for her to be ready for the reality of this situation.]

[To Sephiroth, pain is not wholly unfamiliar, but it distant and rare in any great capacity. It simply represents error, the inability to have performed perfectly to avoid it, and as the years had passed from childhood to adulthood, he had given it less and less leeway to visit him.

When the full moon had first forced his wings out of his back, just great unfolding masses of hollow bird-bones and a glut of sprouting, dark feathers, it had been unlike anything he had experienced before. Even for the SOLDIER, whose reputation is like steel and just as cold, had recoiled from the pain, had let it tremble through his body from the back of his neck down the base of his spine — it had caused the world to careen from under his bootsteps, and perhaps it was some small blessing that the moons themselves had taken away true cognizance of the moment, and replaced it with a wild abandon trademark of those touched by their influence.

But now, nights like these represent only a chilling freedom; the pain is glancing at best, when his wings have already become a permanent feature, and instead his feathers grow more prominent, his wings stretch even larger, his fingertips clawed and his propensity to stay perched high in the treetops, watching potential prey pass below— far more tempting. It is less a transformation than it is an adjustment now. The discomfort hardly registers in his mind any longer.

He hears a scream. A screech. Another harpy.

Instinct cracks in his mind, whip-like, and he takes flight to chase it. Winds through the trees where the echo pulses, as though drawn to like. It’s only minutes when a heavy branch bows under his weight, Sephiroth landing quietly atop it and balanced with ease, glancing down at the figure he, amusedly, recognizes.]

It hurts. [He says, from the shaded cover of the branches that allow in only dappled moonlight.] But it will pass.

[The only thing seeming to gleam down at her are the glowing pinpricks of mako infused eyes, and a long, curving glint of steel. Masamune has come along for the ride.]

[She hadn't expected for her cry to call anyone else forth, and yet perhaps she should have— she's far from the only new monster who has taken to the Wilde for this very purpose, and yet when she looks up, it's not a new monster that she finds herself faced with. Teeth grit, her fingers curl until they're white-knuckled, talons digging into the earth to try and smother the pain of their emergence. She feels something thick at the back of her throat as the muscles in her back continue to contort themselves; it's not hard to guess what comes next, and she's not sure how anyone could be ready for such a thing.]

It— will pass.

[She winces even as she echoes him, her eyes shut tight as she feels herself winded, and then it comes— the sudden eruption of wings,the appearance of bone as it pushes its way through, though there's no telling how much blood there is when the feathers that quickly begin to spread along the framework are just as red, a deep crimson that hides the bulk of whatever mess is left in their wake.

She swallows another scream and ends up with a fistful of dirt, breathing heavily. The pain is unlike anything she's ever felt before, any injury she's ever been unfortunate enough to bear, but it's becoming so all-encompassing that it's almost bearable— present and even rather than coming in sharp, stabbing bursts.

It hasn't passed, but it's something. Was it like this for him? She looks up at him now, bright eyes against the dark of the night, cool and composed and looking as though he could only ever consider pain to be a minor annoyance, if anything.]

I think... I think it's done.

[She can hope, at any rate.]

full moon, closed to sephiroth

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iii. a.

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iii-b

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ii

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iii-b

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iii-a!

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ii

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i

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