☆ 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

Widespread Chaos

[loadme]

Finding somewhere to hide is a feeling Monika knew all too well. Her transformation had made her impossible to miss. Her snake tail was not only massive, but colored the same shade of green as her eyes, making it stand out even more. The name-calling and abuse, she needed to get away from it all, and she was simply too far from her home.

So she found a new, if temporary "home" in an abandoned and ransacked business with enough space for someone her size.

She was coiled and wrapped around herself, her upper half basically leaning and resting over her snake body. Feeling as listless as she was, Monika could've easily spent the rest of the day inside the building.

It wasn't until she heard a loud crash that Monika began to stir, lifting herself up and rising up slightly on her tail.

Her slit pupils regarded the new arrival, though her expression remained stoic. She was on edge, but remained in place.

[hoboagogo]

He huffs out a breath at Toby's words, nodding. "Yeah, seriously. I'm usually turning into a faun, not-- whatever the hell all this is." Hooves and horns and coarse fur and weird eyes, he'd been relatively prepared for. He'd known what to expect, once enough clues had come in. Huge bear arms and spikes were not part of that equation, and thus have him more unsettled than he'd ever let himself show.

His long, faun-like ears flicker at the sounds from farther down the street, and he glances that way with a frown and furrowed brows, before bringing his attention back to the situation at hand.

"Startin' to really second think going outside with all this bullshit happening... anyway, lemme see." He settles back down into a crouch, paws on the ground, and tries to tilt his head to get low enough to see under the porch. He closes one eye, as though that would help the other adjust to the darkness and see better.

(It does not. In fact, it just makes his depth perception worse.)

"I think so-- I think I just couldn't reach far enough with this stupid thing going on."

[fromjapan]

Mm. You'll have to give me a tour, in that case.

[It seems this one won't even require any magic... at least, not much. The Mist's effects have already rendered him fairly willing.

It leans in closer, closing the distance further between them, the blazing heat of its scale-coated body palpable even through its layers of stark white clothing.]

Come with me... I have a place where we can have some privacy for our exploration.

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

Well, if we can find a ball, I could teach you Pong.

[Jeremy's just teasing at this point.]

Or a deck of cards, we could do Solitaire.

Man. I wish my Gameboy weren't so busted up.

[fiddlestick]

Eheh, okay.

[He gives off another pleased hum at the permission given, happy to indulge. Making sure not to cut her, he pokes holes into the fabric of the nightgown, before dragging his claws down, tearing into the fabric all the way down. It's slow and careful, not wanting to harm her.

When it's done, he'll pull it apart - thankfully the fabric is thin enough that even he can do it, before slipping it off her shoulders. He pulls his head from her neck for a moment to see what she looks like.]

[fromjapan]

[Oh... impressive. It seems she gained a form even more wild than its own-- she's quite an impressive sight.

It tilts its head slowly, taking a step closer.]

Monika... it's been a while. How've you been?

[It's hardly a real question. It's more like something to fill the silence before the boot is dropped, idle chatter as its attack is prepared.]

[horkbajir]

"Ah. That was not my guess," she says plainly, and crouches herself, tail in a semicircle around her. Toby does not go on all fours to look under the porch with this man, though. He seems to have that part covered. "My name is Toby. Toby Hamee."

There's also shouting in that direction, more aggrieved than than anything else. A lot is happening already, and the day's still young.

"Okay. Do you think you are able to hold a stick?" Yes, she's slim for her size and long-armed, but also... Toby doesn't want to lay down into the dirt and crawl after something. It's the kind of low-dignity nonsense she'd indulge in for a good friend or someone in dire straits, and this doesn't count.

[manlet]

Loneliness is so potent a poison that it is capable of driving a man to death.

[Andersen knows. He did not die because of loneliness, but he was poisoned so deeply that even in this incarnation, he's given up on his personal happiness. He has seen lovers driven despair after losing their other. He's seen the old starve inside their homes, with no one to look after them. He understands.

He goes to the spring's shore, so he may sit closer to her.]

... I have nowhere else to go for the night. Let me sing you a song as thanks for the one you gave me.

[overworker]

[For the most part, the majority of her body is unchanged; smooth pale skin only giving way to fur on the new additions to her body, except at her tail, where it trails up to towards the small of her back a little. As girls go, her body is well pronounced between her thin waist and her hips but far less so when it comes to her chest. But it’s not as abysmal as she likes to think either.

She tries not to focus on the fact that he’s stopped to look at her though, lest she find room to start thinking too much.

But there is a thrill in it, not having anything but her undergarments to hide behind in front of someone. Letting them see her just as she is, flaws and all— and finding the trust to let it happen.]

II

[loadme]

[Monika didn't listen. All she saw in front of her was prey, something to wrap herself around and snuff the life out of. The result would be same no matter how many times she was addressed, words continuing to fall on deaf ears as she continued her advance.

Her mouth hanged open, fangs unfolding and forked tongue flicking the air.

She could smell her all the way from where she was.

A loud hiss as the snake lunged forward, her powerful tail propelling her with frightening speed for someone of her size.]

[plasticasshole]

I'm sorry about your Gameboy.

[Jeremy had seemed genuinely devastated over it.]

Maybe you can teach me Solitaire sometime.

[When there isn't this weird mist around.]

[fromjapan]

... what--

[It hadn't even looked at the room.

It turns its head, wincing a bit as its new horns again scrape at the headboard, and...]

... yes. It does... what is this?

[... it doesn't know. It doesn't know what's going on, or what to do about it. Actual alarm can be heard rising just beneath its even tone.]

[loadme]

[Monika regards him with slit pupils, her eyes having been changed as well. Clothing hides the patches of scales she's also gained, but her forked tongue manages to slip through her lips.

Ugh, she hates it when that happens.]

I was doing just fine.

["Until I saw you."]

Until I woke up and found out that I lost both of my legs.

Sheva Alomar | Resident Evil | OTA

[partnerinheels]

i | the slow transformation

[It starts as a dull headache, something easily attributed to her less than perfect sleep schedule or her stubborn need to keep herself busy when she’s awake. Besides, she’s survived far worse.

Then, it happens in spurts. She’s walking back to her residence when suddenly her legs give way in a sharp explosion of pain as her legs shift into more elongated, digitigrade limbs. Her boots become strained, splitting in places while holding out sturdily in others, and she finds herself whimpering while crumpled on the ground and fumbling for the zipper to release her straining extremities.

Everything’s happening both too fast and in perpetuity, so it’s sometime later when a strange tingle starts at her lower spine. Facing the possibility of a public display of her vulnerability and suffering, Sheva finds the nearest door and opens it, by force if she needs to, stumbling inside without much stealth. Items are knocked over and broken and her breathing’s labored as she tries to fight the change, failing spectacularly. Her efforts seem to provoke the shift actually, accelerating it into slow, excruciating growth of a tail.

It’s almost as though the magic is angry at her fight.

All the while, she’s trying to get somewhere safe, to hide away where no one will see her like this and witness her physical and mental degradation. She never reaches her safe space, not in the physical realm, nor the mental one.]

ii | chaos of a feral full moon

[At some point, the pull of the moon and the magic become too strong for even her constitution to combat. Instead of fighting the anger and more vicious desires, she breathes them in and drowns in them, giving into their calls and needs.

It’s her first shift, and with everything else contributing, including her lack of a witch’s bond and the deeply triggering recent events, it’s a surprise that she held out for as long as she did. Boots gone and previously close fitting clothes now either straining or torn in parts, the fully shifted turnskin lioness is on the hunt, and she’s hungry for everything.

Creeping through the shadows when she can, she catches a scent, perhaps it’s familiar and maybe it’s just intriguing. However enticed, she follows the smell until she either finds its owner or gets interrupted. This is her territory, and she can easily get distracted to defend it, or mark it as hers.]

Iii | wildcard

[ooc: If there’s another scene that interests you please don’t hesitate to reach out via PM or on plurk (Schist)! A note that Sheva’s hitting her first full moon, and looks a little like this, but a lioness rather than a tiger.]

Wildcard

[long_live_the_queen]

[How long had it been? A single night could stretch far too long, especially one as chaotic as this. The pain of her limbs warping and the indignity of needing to move on four feet like a beast faded into distant echoes, at least. Running, fighting, and chasing again had put all these new muscles through their paces very quickly, and Kaede was tired. A safe place to rest was welcome, if anywhere in this city could be called safe anymore.

The mansion was...well. She wouldn't need to explain herself to Giorno or his...guest. Maria was still asleep and likely would be for awhile, but that nagging feeling of what if tugged at her thoughts. Kaede would...probably? be fine. But then she'd have to explain why she looked like this, and things would get...unpleasantly complicated.

Instead, the patchwork Chimera shambled down a small, shadowed alleyway towards Chariot's apartment, ears pricked up and twitching after the slightest sound. She could still hear the panicked, furious howls of others in the not-too-distance. There was no guarantee these streets would be entirely safe, either.]

[manlet]

[Now that would've been an embarrassing way to die. Fortunately, Caren's dangerous paw is stayed by the fates above. Andersen cranes his neck to glare at her, muttering, It's not my fault and I paid for it, I have the right to trash it. The shopkeep glares at both of them but begrudgingly assents - on the condition that Andersen apologizes.]

I didn't do anything wrong--

[manlet]

[... his tail even wags...

Andersen flares his wings out in exasperation. They're huge! They're white! They don't have opposable thumbs! And they're heavy as shit, and Andersen has to windmill to keep himself balanced, only that whips up a bit of a wind!]

Take a good look at these! I can't even unzip my pants to piss! This is a nightmare!

[ANDERSEN THAT'S TMI]

[unyieldingmarch]

We'll do our best to be quick then.

[Edelgard sweeps down the street, marching into the mists with a swirl of her cloak, clearly expecting the two of them to follow. Caspar will, she knows that, but Corrin is still an outlier.]

I think if we can find someone, we should ask if there have been any strange incidents in the days leading up to the mist's arrival. And perhaps canvas the area, to see where the boundaries of this thick mist lie.

III

[loadme]

[Monika was huddled in the middle of an alley. As "huddled" as she could be, given her massive snake tail. She just wanted to get away from everyone and everything. To shut them all out and be left alone. And sometimes, her thoughts even turned to wanting to teach them a lesson. By herself, she likely would've turned hostile.

Who could actually stop her?

Her breaths were becoming faster, and her restlessness was growing by the second.

With her back turned, she heard a set of footsteps approaching, her tongue picking up a new scent.

The alley may have been out of the way, but she was still blocking passage through it.]

Sorry.

I'll... get out of your way.

[hoboagogo]

It's okay, Toby. Shinjiro can disgrace himself enough for the both of them, as he seems to have absolutely no qualms about dignity in this regard. He's already a ridiculous goat man in a strange world after his death. While some times he might have the mental energy to spend on trying to look cool and respectable, right now is not that time.

"Shinjiro Aragaki." He responds easily enough, at least, and pauses in his resumed scrabbling with those thick claws at her question.

Man. Why hadn't he thought of something that simple.

(He's going to blame the encroaching full moon and whatever stupid bullshit has him turning into.... this.)

"Ah.... yeah, probably." He sits back on his heels, bringing his paws closer to himself to inspect them- flexing and curling. There's not as strong of a grasp as thumbs would afford-- but he could probably still maneuver one. "Good idea. Lemme try that." He just has to get a stick sturdy enough that he can keep a grip on and move enough to knock the watch closer to himself... right?

He stands again and knocks some of the dirt from his knees, shifting his weight as he glances around for... well, anything. A rake laying around, even.

"So Toby, you got any ideas as to what's going on?" Might as well make conversation while he's kicking around at any discarded tree materials from the recent rains.

[manlet]

[He gives Flat a (haha) flat look at the mention of a nest.]

Make a-- Flat. What do I look like, a mother hen? You think I'm going to gather sticks, shake my ass, and croon at the moon for a ladybird to come down and fuck me? You think I want the responsibility of eggs? Shut up. I died alone for a reason.

[manlet]

[Luckily, Andersen's swan-like reflexes save the day. He manages to hop over the tail and...

... actually like. Tries to sit on Elliot to weigh him down. The trumpet, meanwhile, has fallen out of both their reaches. The drama of it all. . .]

Do you even know how to play the trumpet? Give up!

[loadme]

[Maintaining eye contact with Fang was sporadic at best. She hadn't really been ready for this.]

Direct it...

[The idea was sound. If losing her mind was an inevitability, then she had to make it so that nobody would be harmed. Or at least, find someone that could stop her. The tough part, she figured, would be retaining just enough of her "self" to even remember.

It was her best shot.]

Thanks, I'll... do my best.

[It was all she could guarantee.]

Um, you're...

You know Ursula, right? She and I are friends and she's, um, told me a lot about you!

[chainveil]

[ Going outside was undeniably the worst decision Liliana could have made.

Though it's been months in the making, she's been finally on the verge of accepting her transformation for what it is: permanent. At least, as long as she stays in this place and regains her spark. (Which she will do, even if it costs her her soul. Again.) It's probably for the best that Olivia or Sorin can't see her in this state, probably having several patronizing suggestions and a good laugh at her expense. She's spent so long skirting the edges of death that it's strangely fitting that a necromancer like her would finally succumb to it--the true undead.

But while she has been starting to accommodate her change in habits, the fact that food doesn't satisfying as it used to has been the most annoying change. A little blood in wine? That will be just fine, thank you. But since she stepped out into the mist, for once wine is the last thing on her mind.

When she finally disentangles herself from Chandra, she's immediately on the prowl. And the city streets are ripe with viable donors. It feels a lot like her first bat transformation, more instinct than thought as she slinks between buildings and keeps to the shadows. The scent of a drunk man fills her nose and she can feel her dead heart beat once in her chest in anticipation. He's so close, stumbling back against the building. Her glass-like nails dig into the stonework as she grips the side of the building. Just a little closer...

Then she smells it.

Something on the air, a scent like no other. It hits her gut like a punch and her gray eyes go bright violet in an instant. The man is immediately forgotten. That.

That is undoubtably what she needs.

Liliana doubles back, rounding the corner to find a scene of people she couldn't care less about. No, the scent itself is like a painted walkway in front of her, leading her to a young woman leaning back against the brick. Liliana stops a few feet away, heedless of keeping cover. The light in her eyes fades as she focuses in on the open wound, eyes dilated.

There it is. ]

...Oh, you poor thing.

[ It's all the control she has left to sweep over with sudden grace, feeling excitement build in her belly. ]

Let me help you.

[escardos]

You died alone? That’s depressing.

[ he’s only a fan of your stories, andersen! not your entire life!

anyways— ]

Wait, but wouldn’t you be the one doing the... [ gestures. you know. ] but then—wait why would you lay—you’re not— [ can you smell that, andersen? that’s the scent of flat’s brain cell frying. he might just be the victim of an intellectual murder, especially when he finally sort-of-gets it. ]

I-I think this definitely counts as TMI, sir.