☆ Event: Fright Night

[moustre]

Event Log: October, Fright Night

I. The Mist It starts in the middle of the night. As the bells chime for 3 am, a slow fog creeps across the city from all four cardinal directions, swirling low to the ground, shining purplish in the light of the twin moons. It goes without notice for a while, an oddity, easily brushed off as too much rain and the changing temperatures turning it to mist over the cobblestones. The first ones to get caught up in it are the night workers, the drunks leaving the bars, the sailors returning to their ships, anyone out on the streets when it begins. In most cases, the effects are not instantaneous - it takes a little time to sink in before… a. The Transformations Even if you don’t find yourself out on the streets in the middle of the night, the mist creeps its way into buildings through cracks and openings, until exposure is almost guaranteed for everyone in Aefenglom, and even some just outside the Bright Wall in the Outer City. Though a lucky few, Mirrorbound and citizens alike, will find themselves wholly unaffected by the substance and will retain their physical forms and their own right minds, many more find themselves bent to its whims, changing in ways that could never have been predicted. There is little rhyme or reason to what changes occur or how - some simply wake with new parts, uncomfortable, while others run from their homes, panicking as wings tear painfully out of their backs or claws burst forth from their hands. The mist does not discriminate. Humans and Witches find themselves gaining the parts of Monsters, or even creatures that live outside the Wall. Monsters gain parts that don’t match up to their species - Arachne with wings or gills, Turnskin with antlers and Merrow tails, Puca with the teeth and claws of predators or the horns of unicorns or the scales of lizards, such strange sights become more and more common as morning approaches slowly. Mirrorbound may find that they can even gain the features and mannerisms of creatures from their home worlds. It all seems to happen wholly at random. These parts may not even last; plenty of citizens lose their new additions after just hours, only to gain new ones in the meanwhile. In the dark, wee hours of the morning, the city erupts into chaos. b. Widespread Chaos There’s no chance of peace tonight. Some may be lucky enough to escape the mists or its effects somehow, but the vast majority of the city hasn’t -- and it’s telling, from the sounds of people in the streets, that no one’s particularly happy about the turn of events. Many are in pain, many are blind with panic and upset. How could this happen? What’s going on? Many of the shouts attribute blame to the Coven allowing the practice of at-times experimental magics, while others turn it into anti-Monster sentiment, claiming the Monster population wants them all to suffer the way they do. Other tinfoil-hat-ists spread their conspiracy theories loudly, laying the blame squarely on Dorchacht - retribution for the Monsters the Mirrorbound stole from their city. This is an attack, they shout! The actual truth remains to be seen, however. There are plenty who don’t care about the truth and pay little attention to the rumors. They’re opportunists at heart, and a city in chaos is good for lining pockets. Some less-affected and less-moral citizens take to the streets of the Shopping and Aristocratic districts, throwing rocks through windows, banging down doors, looting shops and the houses of the wealthy of whatever valuables they can carry with them. Even a gang of kids from one of the orphanages in the Harbor District, sporting their own mismatched new features, can be spotted roaming the city, looting stores and homes, stealing from people incapacitated in the streets. They can’t pass up an opportunity when they have so little to begin with. c. State of Emergency Parliament, in contact with the Coven, is quick to declare a state of emergency in Aefenglom. A magical announcement rings out all through the city, loud and impossible to miss. Those who can keep it together are called upon to help find some sort of order before things devolve too badly and more damage is done than can be fixed. People will get hurt if things continue like this, they could even be looking at casualties. Those who have learned healing magic are asked to report to makeshift first aid stations scattered around the city to help those dealing with more violent, bloody transformations. Anyone with prior law enforcement experience are tasked with helping contain and stop the looting and the muggings. More still are called to try and figure out some way to get rid of the mist, or reverse its effects. None of the assignments are mandatory, plenty are unable to assist as they deal with their own afflictions, but any help is greatly appreciated.

II. Damage Control The chaos of the first night dies down somewhat by noon the next day. The air of forgiveness and cleaning up for the new year that was present at the beginning of the month is gone as the violet mist still spreads, wreaking havoc with the citizens of Aefenglom. Human citizens take it worse than the Monster half of the city, but one of the side-effects hits the Monster community harder. It quickly becomes apparent that the effects of this never-before-seen magic are not only physical. Fights break out over anything from minor slights to things worth fighting about, blossoming from a few thrown punches to all-out brawls that spill into the streets. Anger and agitation increase in most affected citizens, and you can cut the tension in the air with a knife. Relief efforts have to be redirected. Some can keep it together just enough to go about their daily lives as best they can with their new ‘additions’, but others rapidly start to lose their minds in ferality, even those with strong Witch-Monster Bonds. Miss Nessie is quick to whip the Coven into action to help preserve the peace as much as possible. There isn’t enough room to contain so many feral citizens, but they try to make do. All available Mirrorbound, Witch and Monster, who are able and want to help contain the people of Aefenglom or each other are taught a simple knock-out spell, or given slips of paper enchanted with the same, to literally knock some sense into the ferals. It won’t hurt them in the long term, but it will give them a time-out and help pull their minds out of their pits of animal instinct. Plenty of citizens will be thankful for this. That doesn’t mean everyone is happy to see the Mirrorbound around town. They may notice that they get more scowls while they’re out and about, more whispers and dirty looks. They come from humans the most, but especially the wealthier people of the city, dealing with their own share of terrible transformations, who mutter under their breaths words like, “Knew they would bring trouble with them. Knew it right from the start.” Known Mirrorbound may find themselves being kicked out of higher class shops in the Shopping District, or even spit on in the streets. Poorer citizens, especially Monsters, see things differently, however: they’ve seen the refugees from Dorchacht, they know what was done for some of their kind. They’ll admit that the Mirrorbound have brought trouble with them, but a little trouble isn’t always a bad thing - sometimes you’ve got to shake things up and disturb the status quo. Though they’re dealing with bizarre changes and an increased risk of going feral, they have faith that the Mirrorbound will help solve this problem. Of course, this difference in opinion just means both sides argue louder and fight harder.

III. The Refugees For those who’d found themselves rehomed, mostly Monsters and what few Witches came with, this is not what they had expected from a “full moon”. They’d been warned that certain urges would be stronger, that magic could wax and wane like the moons themselves, but this? This rampant disorder, the odd turning present in so many citizens and Mirrorbound alike, the Coven and Parliament’s bid on attempting some sort of damage control--? Is this what they left Dorchacht for, from one far too controlling city to one that didn’t seem to have any control at all? They aren’t in chains, at least. They can choose their Bonds if they’d like one. But it’s put them on edge enough that some linger by the docks, both wanting to leave to someplace “safe” in their eyes and wishing to stay. The latter wins out in most cases, seeking to help the Mirrorbound as they were helped themselves, though they may be suffering from the mists themselves... oddly, they seem to be more aware of themselves in a way that the natives are not, likely learned behavior leftover from Dorchacht to keep themselves in check; the compulsion spell had only helped compulsion, after all, there’d been a genuine want to remain secure and safe in their minds even with the situation as it was. Unfortunately, there’s plenty of locals who see the refugees as part of the problem -- before the Mirrorbound, before Dorchacht, Aefenglom had been fine, and in continuing these thoughts, they’re not... the friendliest to outsiders. Some are more likely to retaliate violently with new-found additions to their physiology and skillset when the refugees attempt to help, with whispers, conspiracy theories, and nasty rumors all the while spreading at a rapid pace. As bad as Dorchacht had been, maybe they had a point about the strange, suggestive magic used across the city. Maybe it’s something Aefenglom should look into too, during the fuller moons, should this be the beginning of something worse as the new year rises at the end of the month. But hopefully -- and this is the hope of all -- it simply remains a one-off, freak happening at the end of the year, and they pray the new one fares better.

IV. The Aftermath Thanks to quite a bit of Mirrorbound assistance, the city is still largely in one piece by the end of the day after the full moons. The mist, an unstable alchemical compound, eventually breaks down into nothing after a day or so, and the effects all fade or reverse, leaving everyone in their normal bodies and feeling clear-headed as the moons start to wane again. There are issues of property damage, stolen goods, and political discord to deal with, but the hardest to handle is perhaps the guilt of those who went feral and attacked their friends and loved ones. Samuin preparations continue with an unusual gloom hung over the city as clean-up and reparations commence. While before, though, humans and Monsters could often be found on the bridge over the River Temese, making amends with one another, the activity almost entirely ceases, leaving the bridge empty most days from now until Samuin.

Welcome to October's event log! This event takes place ICly on the 12th, 13th, and 14th. The Questions thread can be found HERE! Please help us and other players out by putting the subject(s) of your questions in your header! Investigation briefs will be going out soon on the OOC Sign Ups thread to the teams who were chosen by RNG, so keep an eye out for that. And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere.

Comments

Sokie Undertown | Witch | OTA

[weirdnecro]

I:

A:

[She had heard the noise in the morning, but she still turned over and covered her ears with a pillow at some of the weird noises that had come with the morning. But...she couldn't bring herself to get up. Too groggy. It was only in the morning when she had gotten up, dressed, and was bundled up with a cup of coffee that she noticed things were...weird. Weird enough that she had to squint, and tilt her head as she watched on the steps of her house.]

Was that a foo dog...?

B: Little looters

[Now, Sokie has, and is a thief at heart, and she takes pride in her skills. She's worked hard for them, and she's stolen some pretty neat artifacts in her time. But here? Looters? She might have ignored it but...

They were trying to raid one of her favorite places. That won't do. So she strolled up, a hand in her pocket, before her voice came out, still pleasant...but hard.]

What do you think you're doing?

[Her voice was authoritative, hard. And she tilted her head, listening to whatever excuses for a few moments before holding up a finger.]

All right, sounds like nonsense. So you have the count of three before I get annoyed and have to do something about it.

[She's untransformed, seemingly unarmed, and looking completely human. What could she do by herself? Well...depends on if you want to be on her side or not. Because she may not count to three.]

C

[Sokie wasn't really the law enforcement type. Let Asura or other people go around and haul people into cells by the back of their necks; it reminded her too much of some of her near brushes with getting thrown into jail cells.

Instead, Sokie found herself on the first aid station duty. Which-wasn't too terrible as things went. It just meant that between visits, she had to take a sip of water, tea, or whatever else while people in various states were brought to her.

It felt a little, she mused, like doctor dodge ball. But seeing the latest person hauled over, she stood up, and motioned for the carries to put them down for her to peer at her latest patient.]

I didn't expect us to meet like this either. So! You wanna tell me what happened?

[Least, that's what she'll do for those conscious. Those without, well...she'll make sure to start layering on the healing spells and ensure they can wake up.]

II

A

[It was a lot of hard work, getting things done. It was...well, there was a lot of knock outs (this spell was super useful), and there were some attempts to just cause people to sleep so there wouldn't be a disturbance.

Which was how she could be found squatting in a circle of messed up humans and monsters-it looked as if she had waded into the middle of a fight of some sort. Looked like one of them clipped her too, since her lip was cut and it was swelling up.

Hearing someone, she jerked her head up, exhaling a hard breath.]

Here to help, or here to make trouble? If it's the latter, I can and will choke you out.

[Sokie that isn't nice.]

B

["Trouble making mirror bound trash."]

Excuse me?

[Sokie was pretty sure she heard that. Normally she'd ignore the mutters-because usually she had better things to do then listen to farts on the wind. But after all of the trouble she's gone through to be nice, to help out...

She had to step into their path, and keep stepping in, until they stopped.]

I'm sorry, I think I misheard you. Especially the, mm, trouble making part? I was walking, after taking care of your sons and daughters, your workers. I just-

[She didn't get to finish her ramble; she wasn't sure if they were emboldened in thinking they were untouchable, or they were just stupid. It happened so quick she didn't realize what happened.

But the person-merchant, noble, whatever-spat on her face.

This was not going to end well.]

III

No, you're right. It isn't fair, and it isn't right.

[She'd come by the refugees when she could. It'd been partially her actions and those who went to the Foggy city that brought them there. And-really-this was a sensitive time that they were taking here, and whoever, whatever caused this likely realized the situation. They'd lost precious stock.

And frankly, Sokie wanted to keep them here. Maybe, if they could, they'd lead the refugees to establish their own town, but until then...they had to be careful.

Which was why she found a lot of kettles, some containing soup, others containing tea, and tried to keep them close while she sang them songs from her world and told them unbelievable stories.

And there was the smell of magic too. Since...well, Sokie had used her blood and a few rocks to establish what would be the fence of a barrier if anyone tried to rush this calm and huddled group.

Seeing others come by usually had her tense up, at least for the first few moments, before:]

Hey stranger. Want to join us?

Wildcard

Hey there! If nothing here fits, it goes here! If you have questions, you can catch me on my plurk nammah or you can find me on discord!

[befucked]

Then you should alert them, for their own fuckin' safety--at least to wait 'til I'm insensate, and then if necessary they can deposit me in that corner over there.

[She points, then lifts her head, then gulps down the whiskey Jill had poured. Then, finally, bothers to look up at the bartender.]

Appreciated.

[fiddlestick]

...Yeah, you're right. [She has a point there] We're still us. It's really tempting to complain about it, but really this is just what the others deal with all the time so I probably shouldn't...

[Just gotta suck it up and learn how to deal. Even if it's weird getting used to all the changes to his body. As for the mental stuff...that'll probably take awhile more.

Maybe positive thinking will help? His eyes keep flicking between Towa and the meat that's cooking.]

And you know, you make a pretty cute cat Towa.

Damage Control

[selfishwish]

Wow, did they kick you out...? That's so mean!

[There's a bunny-rabbit butterfly boy-thing observing the scene from above, clad in what appears to be a set of pajamas. Momiji, who quite visibly hasn't been home yet from his own first night bender, has perched himself on a cornerstone of the shop building above, yellow-green wings fanned out behind him.

He's been keeping a lower profile now that there aren't mobs of looters out to attract the bulk of crowd-control attention, but that hasn't stopped most of the humans he's encountered today from being very rude. Unaccountably so!

And so he flutters down to land right in front of Iramaat with bright eyes and an eager, little smile.]

...mm, what kinda "turn?"

1b PLACEHOLDER SORT OF not really!!

[usurpers]

[ the third and final night of the full moons would be drawing to a close soon, once the sisters in the sky set to the horizon line and give room for the sun to rise in the opposite direction. there’s still time until then, where eren hopes to walk about the chaotic city’s streets and offer damage control. the mist does nothing to him, his bond is secure and his mind clear, save for the natural agitation these special nights bring. his blood is hotter, his reflexes and instincts quicker to react. he’s just a little more reptile than person, but clarity gives him thought that’s far more man than primal beast.

there’s just been talk of a . . . thing, a sloppy slimy thing with too many limbs and a nightmarish maw roaming this district more than others. it follows fear and fear is the thickest scent floating with the winds. eren is out to track, to find, to subdue, and hopefully give the cautious a little more peace of mind. nothing’s ever easy, and the part-dragon soon finds that he’s walked in a circle at least once. alarmed, his forked tongue analyzes with more urgency. it’s the closest he’s been— until a black substance drips from above, smacks at his shoulder— his tongue flicks over it before hastily twisting his head up to follow the source he missed a second too late.

ah, shit. ]

[proficience]

[If there were even an inkling of life left in Dazai, he'd have heard those words and he'd have commented on them. Poked fun at them, acted as if this were all some sort of silly prank --

But he can't. He's still gone, unable to do a thing. Death is, without a doubt, not nearly as pleasant as he'd thought it'd be. Something he'd craved for so long has turned out to be, well -- bleak and dark.

His body will be fairly easy to maneuver, since he can't move and since he's completely limp.

Little does Chuuya know that he'll come back to life eventually, as this was just the final step for him to become a vampire.]

Ib!!!

[usurpers]

[ eren follows blood and the smell of aggression with far more urgency than those in clearer thought, and one of those trips leads him here. the scent of a wolf, hurt and changed, and something stalking forward to finish off its interruption.

the dragon that emerges from a dragging crawl down a building’s sturdy wall, black as ink that reflects light with sheens of indigo, smells wolf first, his forked tongue touching involuntarily against blood he was sure he smelled earlier. identity confirmed, and while he doesn’t say anything, his eyes, bright blue and slit, are mindful of him. the reptile pulls an arm-wing forward to pull his body in front of him, guarding wolf with leathery membrane. a clear warning for the feral monster with sights on the wounded, his throat beats like a snare, but low like muffled tambours.

by the time eren stands between them, the end of his spiked tail, pricked with needle-like fins rattles like a snake’s. he would strike to kill, but he was protective, was defensive, and would subdue the opposing monster with as little blood as possible, as fast as possible. wolf needed first aid eren’s talons couldn’t give, but he could offer the wings and means to take him there when this one was out of their way. ]

Hang on.

[proficience]

[Pretty much nothing Chuuya could do would scare Dazai; he's seen everything, and he believes that this world, no matter what it chooses to do, could never bestow anything as dangerous as Corruption onto the other man.

Which means that the snarl and the flicking tail do nothing to faze him.

However, when Chuuya lashes out, Dazai will take advantage of the large wings he'd been very graciously given and hover into the air, just high enough to where he can taunt:]

Oh!

Looks like you're just a tiny bit too short to catch me~

i swear dazai won't be dead forever. in a tag or two he'll ~come back~

[proficience]

[It's unfortunately anything but a joke. Dazai is gone, sent to the eternal abyss where he'd always joked about wanting to go.

His body won't register the shaking, save for bouncing around as if he were a mere doll, a puppet completely controlled by someone.

If he weren't dead, he'd surely feel saddened by Atsushi's reaction to this.]

B

[selfishwish]

[Momiji, in the full bloom of his feral state, is playing opportunistic looter. He's not going to go around smashing things--that sounds like really hard, boring work!--but the Coven is spread so thin that there are plenty of great spots to explore, after the worst of the chaos has been driven off. And you find the neatest stuff in the shops in this part of town!

The good news for Emil, then, is that he ends up staring down a fuzzy, blond kid with big, green butterfly wings and rabbit-ears, instead of the more fearsome options out on the street today. The bad news is that said kid giggles at his very authoritative order!]

Oh...no, thank you. 'Scuse me!

[He's just going to try to hop right around him and head on into the alchemical shop that someone's already torn the door off the hinges of.]

[escardos]

Wha—!!

[ well, the unfortunate thing about the mist is the lack of actual strength it gives you. blinded by both bloodlust and general stupidity, flat doesn’t see the punch coming until it’s right about to happen.

it hits square on his head, and he goes down like a house of cards against the pavement. at least it looks like he’s unconscious? ]

IV

[judgementor]

What are you doing?

[How long has he been stood there? Long enough to see Momiji begin to empty his pockets out with the air of someone who... is trying very much to cover something up. Not a hard thing to read, for all accounts, given his muttering and the furtive way he's behaving.

Still coming to terms with the last couple of days, he doesn't have the motivation at the moment to make himself sound accusatory, so the question comes out low and barely-curious. Tired.]

Found yourself with your hands in other people's pockets?

IV

[judgementor]

[He feels he has embarrassed himself quite enough over the past couple of days, and the docks have already become a place he feels he can go to get a little piece. Red Wine gets along well enough with the sailors - he thinks that they find his ability to be bawdy and to hold his drink despite his polished appearance to be amusing - and they don't usually bother him unless he approaches them first.

His own approach is quiet, just to take up a position on the dock and look off towards the horizon, but he glances over with a slightly curious light in his dark red eyes.]

Have you done something to me that I should want an apology for?

iii

[judgementor]

[For the most part, Red Wine has been able to ignore the suspicious glances and harsh looks he's been getting since this all began. He's used to it, in a way - such things have followed him around since a certain other Food Soul began dogging his steps in pursuit of his fellow knight.

He pauses, briefly, to watch the young woman with the group of students, and straightens his shoulders slightly when she catches his eye and speaks.]

I'm open to offering an escort, good lady. [Red Wine replies with a faint smile.] But given your company, it might be best to avoid the risk of danger altogether.

Toby | Open

[horkbajir]

[Oh boy. For this event Toby's a yellow-and-red centipede-like alien, ten feet long, mostly roaming outside the walls. The more dangerous-looking you are the more likely it is that she won't try to take a bite out of you, which would be bad for everyone. She's much more fragile like this, too.]

Toby's never played video games or watched movies. The metaphor that comes to her with the mists is that it's like reading a Choose Your Own Adventure book, one where the 'you' is nothing like her and thinks and wants things she would never think or want, and her own input is limited. But there's no closing the book, no putting it down, not even any looking away. It pages on and on, inevitable as sunset.

You're hungry. Hungrier than you've ever been in your life. You eat and are not satisfied. Not salt enough. Not wet enough, and you're also thirsty, painfully dry, and the thirst can't be quenched until you've plunged your face into water and gulped and gulped, barely pausing to breathe, on and on until you raise your face. Then water drips from your mouth and keeps dripping, burning your skin, hissing, and you're so hungry.

That isn't right. Toby stripped pounds of twigs and bark from good trees, enough to leave her heavily content, and that was much more water than she's ever drank at once before. It should have made her sick and bloated - she's bloated, her stomach hurts, but it's hunger pain? And - is this saliva dripping? She doesn't have watery, acidic spittle!

You eat wildly. Using your blades and hands and pulling food to your mouth starts to take too long. Instead you start directly bringing your beak and teeth to bear. Bite, chew, swallow, bite again, but it's not right! Wood shatters dry and splintery, piercing the inside of your mouth. You taste your own blood and it's so bright and bracing! You miss a bite and get a mouthful of soil and it's better than wood, soft and dense, but still lacking. You eat and eat and eat and you can't see your beak anymore, there's a blind spot right before your mouth, you're utterly surrounded with inadequate food and you are so, so hungry! You're going to starve, you realize, you're going to starve to death.

What's happening? It was getting so hard to reach out with her arms and there was a soft, flaccid feeling to her blades. Now her arms are folded, tucked out of the way against her chest, but they don't work like that! Toby flexes her fingers and it feels wrong. Too many. Too distributed. And did she fall over? What happened to her legs? Everything seems distorted. What is this? She doesn't understand, and yes, she's starving. All her self control and reserve seems to have drained into the pit of her stomach. She's hungry, hungry and cold with fear.

So you redouble your efforts, gouging the landscape with great craters. Stone and dirt and plants and roots and worms! That brightness! Here, this is real food, you need this! Now you can smell them and swallow them in great shovelfulls of earth, but there are so few and they're so small. It's not enough. It's not going to be enough!

There are other smells, warm smells, living smells. There are beating hearts, there is blood running through veins. Food - the real food, the good food, the food you need to live, and enough of it to quiet this unrelenting hunger - is here and moving around. Soft and wet and breathing. You work your twenty legs and roil across the inadequate dirt, smelling, questing, peering ahead.

It comes to her, dully - she's not herself at all, she's a Taxxon! One of those loathsome, cannibalistic aliens who sold their freedom to the Yeerks in order to be fed. That's enough to get her to plant her feet in their endless rows, for a moment at least, and protest out loud.

"Ssssssriiiiieeee ssssssruiwa kkssssssshya!"

Oh, fuck. What comes out of... it's not her mouth, it's huge and flexible with so many teeth involved, what comes out is a shrill hissing shriek. Taxxons can't speak any of the languages Hork-Bajir or humans speak.

You are very, very hungry.

ii

[proficience]

[Save for his newly formed wings, Dazai looks about the same as he had prior to the Mist. Pale, sickly, in a way --

And honestly, not the type of individual who should become engaged in any sort of fight, but here he is on the streets, wandering about, hearing the voice of someone somewhat familiar to him. Someone he likes enough to check out and see what they're up to.

Immediately, he smells the blood. That smell, of course, sends a jolt down his spine and he bites his lip a moment before properly heading over. He needs to ignore his vampiric urges.]

Flat-kun?

[What happened, here?]

Are you alright?

c

[proficience]

[Having had an atrocious evening, Dazai is now sauntering about, exhausted and physically weak. He had just died and returned to life, after all, completing his transformation into a vampire.

Which, of course, was a mess and he'd rather not even think back to it, but --

Thoughts still linger in his mind.

Spotting an unfamiliar face resting against a wall, he wanders over slowly, and then shakes his head at the question.]

I'm afraid not. I can't eat food, so I don't carry any on me.

I-B

[proficience]

[Soon after developing wings, Dazai has had the indescribable urge to fly on top of buildings and loot. He shouldn't, honestly; he'd promised Oda that he'd do good things, be a better person --

And looting is not a good thing.

But the urge is strong, and he'll join a few children in looting a store or two before he hears a warning. Turning his head to find the source, he chuckles.]

Taking what we want.

[A pause.]

What will you do if I don't comply?

ii

[proficience]

[Would Dazai fit the bill of a person looking to be a challenge? Perhaps, but perhaps not. He's a vampire with very large wings, bat-like wings, and he looks tired.

He'd just died and revived to complete his transformation, after all, finding himself in the harbor district just because.

He wouldn't be able to go home and sleep during the chaos, anyway.]

Hm?

[He approaches this werewolf-like man slowly.]

Why?

II

[proficience]

[He'd talked to Kyo over the network, previously, but having had yet to meet him in person, Dazai has no clue that the scared cat is anyone he knows.

Feeling compelled to chase it down, he'll try to do so, eventually cornering both of them in an alleyway.]

Hey --

It's fine, trust me.

[He'll kneel down and hold out both hands.]

[escardos]

[ well, look who’s here.

while dazai can most definitely be considered a friend, flat can’t help but wonder what it would be like to open him up. do vampires bleed? do they feel pain at all, being undead?

just one stab. one would be enough to find out—dazai would understand, yes?

he smiles, leaning against the wall with a sigh. ]

I got hurt a while ago by some rogue. [ except he doesn’t look pale or hurt in the least. ] Everyone’s really going crazy, huh? It’s kind of scary...

[inlikethebrume]

...your mind goes to the darkest places, doesn't it?

[It's the first thing that comes to mind and that's saying something. Thankfully the alleyway she leads them through is practically quiet and without another soul to make noise. For once, the silence is a comfort.]

I was already out when this started, it was much worse then.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Why be tactful when you can just tell the truth? ]

It is weird. Not for a snake, but for you.

[ And look, he's familiar with weird changes. Not that he's going to show the weirdest one off, but he knows. ]

Wildcard because I love you

[fiddlestick]

[ The good news is Elliot isn't dangerous enough to be one of the big threats causing havoc around town. Monstrous features weren't enough to make up for his complete lack of physical ability. So Fie really didn't have to worry about Elliot actually hurting anyone while he struggled to get under control.

The bad news is that while he wasn't dangerous, he wasn't exactly useful either. The new instincts were too sudden and too loud for him to have an easy time ignoring. So he keeps wandering off, coming back later with some odd musical equipment he found. Trying to get him to focus is also a real trial, as he's easily distracted.

Like right now, as a very good looking guy passes by. His head perks up and he starts trying to flap his blue feathery wings at him, trying to attract the guy's attention.

It's not working.]

[selfishwish]

[Even as flat as the question comes out, Momiji flinches all the same. It's not like he thought he was being especially stealthy about his decision, but he had kind of hoped that everyone was all so shell-shocked at this point that no one who noticed would have the energy to ask.]

Sorta. I think...

[And, judging by the handful he produces, his own pockets are now laden with 500-cune coins, assorted baubles and jewelry, unidentified keys, and...a few little sweet-shop parcels of chocolates and marshmallows.]

I don't remember who I took any of it from.

[He admits softly, not actually looking back at the vampire. Though that's not true, exactly: He remembers a lot of the who and just very few specifics about the what.]