☆ 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

QUESTIONS

[moustre]

GENERAL

[moustre]

Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) | OTA

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Ib. Widespread Chaos ]

[ Berserker is one of the ones that finds himself changed further. Soft, dog-like ears replace his normal pointed ones, his scales are covered in a soft fur, and that coating extends to his wings and tail. It's not just the physical changes that bother him, of course -- the more animalistic instincts he tries so hard to keep control of scream louder than ever. If he stays in, he may become a danger to those he lives with, so it only makes sense he escapes to the streets.

While he's not interested in looting or anything, chaos is his natural element. It's only making things worse to be out here and he's not as bad off as he could be -- he still has the barest grasp on his mind.

Something has caught his attention and that's a person, unfortunately. Berserker seems to be stalking them like a predator, a frighteningly calm expression on his face. Anyone familiar with him will realize this is a dangerous situation. he draws closer to his potential victim, body language unchanged.

Do you dare distract him and risk becoming a target yourself? Hopefully, someone talking sense might draw him out of this state and stop him from becoming a larger danger. ]

[ II. Damage Control ]

[ Though the insanity of last night is behind him, Berserker is still irritable. Even familiar faces aren't exactly welcome to him right now. The feral thoughts pull at him, making him less fun than normal to deal with. Going about his daily business is an annoying chore now and it's made worse when someone bumps into him. This isn't a slight that would normally draw his attention, but with the state of mind he's in now, it's unforgivable.

He growls as he turns to the offending party. ]

Are you going to just keep walking like nothing happened?

[ It's likely he'll settle down if the other party is reasonable, however... ]

[ IV. Aftermath ]

[ After the less than pleasant past few days, Berserker finds himself on the docks near dusk. It's quieter than he's used to and that suits him just fine. The unwanted extra bits brought on by the mist have faded away, leaving the familiar dragon behind. He's taking time to fish, not quite finding enjoyment in it, but it's enough to soothe the annoyance of losing control over himself.

Until his quiet time is interrupted. Hearing someone approach he lifts his head. ]

What do you want? If it's an apology, find it from someone else.

[ Ah...Yes, he's in a great mood. ]

[ V. Wildcard ]

[ These prompts not doing it for you? Got an idea? Did we already plot something out? Drop me a starter or PM me here or on Discord (glitzkrieg#0673)! ]

v call of the wildcard fam

[ua_duibhne]

[The first thing Diarmuid does is seek out a familiar face but the complications that will come with that don't immediately strike him. All that he knows right now is that he's dealing with a pair of extremely twitchy deer ears and a tail that won't stop swishing with each step he takes and he needs someone to tell him he's not going crazy. So, out of the blue, Berserker will have received a particularly cryptic message asking him to meet him in one of the Coven's glasshouses.

Another poor decision, really. He's had to stop himself from nibbling on the sunflowers for the past half an hour. Regardless, it was the only place he could think to go that would guarantee he'd have a degree of privacy after the transformations, rather humiliatingly, had started in the library. His head's still pounding from the emergence of those horns and, though he's managed to wipe most of the blood away, he looks every bit as disheveled as he feels.

Footsteps.

Diarmuid almost falls off of the upturned plant pot he's been sitting on, those expressive new ears of his swiveling furiously to try and work out what- no, who is approaching where he doesn't have a similar degree of control of his other senses. Speaking of changes, he hasn't yet noticed that his hair's looking on the longer side too, tangling around his shoulders as he glances up. The pupils of his eyes dilate, black against the gold.]

Cú?

[If it's not him he really is going to bolt.]

[belligerentwarrior]

A. Peacekeeping [Fang's awake, when the fog's chaos first breaks; she always is when the full moons first show themselves. It's quickly apparent that something's wrong when people start screaming in a nearby bar—and when the moons sing in her head louder than usual.]

[She follows the scent of blood to that bar, as a man (partly still human, asymmetrically sporting the features of a rhinoceros) violently pitches another man (covered in his own blood, from the sudden growth of heavy reptilian scales and vicious teeth) into the street. The reptile-man is quick back to his feet, thrashing and shrieking, and it's seconds before the two clash again.]

[The jaguar turnskin lands between them, roughly knocking the rhino-man aside before he gores the reptile. This is escalating too quickly, too bloodily.]

Enough!

B. Ambush

[But Fang isn't wholly unaffected. The instincts and moons scream in her mind in a way they haven't since she'd bonded, coming and going like the tide.]

[While the feral urges encroach, anyone with primarily prey-like characteristics might suddenly hear a jaguar's roar from above, a dark feline with too-long limbs and small crystal-like growths pouncing upon them.]

[But when the influences recede, Fang prowls about with those enchanted papers, trying to ambush anyone acting feral (particularly violent individuals) from the shadows or from above.]

C. Respite

[By the 14th, Fang's worn to the bone. Between her own feral episodes and her attempts at keeping peace, she's been through too many fights. She isn't as durable here as she'd been in her world; the turnskin's covered in bruises and cuts, some stitched and some bandaged.]

[She can't heal, but considering how overwhelmed the Coven is, she can help tend to the less severe wounds. She can stitch, set bones, tend burns, check concussions—all vital skills to one born on the violent Gran Pulse.]

[Fang herself looks like she hasn't slept terribly much, either.] And what do you need?

Wildcard

[Hit me with something, and I'll roll with it! You can also PM if you want to work out something specific!]

B

[kuroi_taiyo]

[ Really, even if some Merrow characteristics didn't line up with prey, there's no denying the kind of air that Judar had. The mist caused the bioluminscence in the oddly long and shaggy hair, and the fins hidden underneath that hair certainly were the barbed kind that could fan around. However, his scent and presence was still shifting to be more like what he'd be shifting into the next coming months; a faun.

Right now, it made him skittish to some of the loud noises that've been coming about, but also aggressive towards some other people. It was an odd mix, but didn't take away the kind of presence (or kind of scent) he had.

It made him a great target, even as he paused, like a deer in headlights, as the pouncing happened. Even while caught, he's kept still. Partially from those instincts, but also shock. Also, due to other instincts, it was... Both terrifying and pretty hot? Which is very confusing for someone going through their first moon in this city. ]

ursula callistis | ota

[beariot]

[ i-a - locked to fang, possibly kaede, depends on who's in the apartment at the time ]

[ Most people who knew Chariot well enough would have pegged her for this even if she herself insisted she was more kin to bears and other such animals than anything feline, but the mist had her pegged for it regardless of any protests she might have had, if given the opportunity to voice them. Unfortunately, the transformation's initial take of her, leaving Chariot looking not unlike her bonded with pulled back ears and darting tail, and little of her human intellect forming at first, at least not as much as she'd liked.

Her immediate senses told her she was different and she was cold and that was very bad and her reaction to this was to... spring up in the middle of the night and begin darting about the house, letting out uncertain yowls and mewls with about the same level of anxious energy one expected from Chariot. She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew too much wasn't right for her to be calm, and the daggers of panic and impulse were too difficult to ignore.

Having a panic attack while being changed into a cat-person was probably not an ideal combination. ]

[ i-b - open ]

Stop it! You'll just give them an excuse to resent you!

[ The tension of her nerves had been calmed some, but the state of the city was keeping her on edge, regardless, though her new feline reflexes were helping her chase down a group of looting orphans. She didn't dare try to use her magic here, not knowing what state it could be in, but she could at least rely on what was still certain; her physical aptitude.

Anyone catching a glimpse of her as she pursued the gang would see her motions almost like a dancer, nimble and graceful in her movements despite the anxious energy surrounding her. When the kids tossed objects into her path, she dodged over them with a sort of adroitness that she'd never once openly displayed before...

But even she had her limits, in terms of energy. She calls to anyone nearby. ] Help me stop them before they get into any more trouble!

[ ii - open ]

[ Ursula was having a lot of trouble. And she knew others probably had it worse, but the feral instincts that had peeled away her intellect that first night never truly went away, and remained a drumming, pulsing presence in her mind. She was trying to just stick to doing her work in the classroom, but every now and again she'd catch herself grooming herself, becoming keenly interested in her own tail, or finding herself napping in particularly warm bits of sunlight.

Ursula had never really thought of herself as a cat-person before arriving in Aefenglom, but now it felt like the universe had set her up for a joke. But the biggest joke was those feral instincts grew their loudest when she was in the presence of others. Because no, she couldn't just have the instincts of a completely feral cat. That would have been too easy. No, instead she's more like...

A house cat.

And that included nuzzling into strangers, particularly when she needed something. She catches herself most of the time. ]

Oh. I am.... SO sorry, that was just... [ Her ears peel back and her tail switches, tugging at her hat to hide the embarrassment on her face. ] I'm just... trying to keep it under control.

[ iii - open ]

[ The refugees were getting the same treatment, if not worse, than her fellow mirrorbound were getting. And it was impossible to ignore the air of misery, apprehension, and fear among her students. They were supposed to be doing a lesson outside today, but the tension in the air made it impossible for the kids to focus, and several of them seemed to just... huddle around each other, and near Ursula, uncertain of what to do with themselves in this world that was so alien to them. It was impossible not to empathize, Ursula having felt that same trepidation the first time she'd looked up to the sky and not seen the Northern Chariot to greet her. ]

It's alright... None of you are to blame for this. Sometimes... sometimes things just happen this way. But not a one of you has any reason to feel like this is your fault, or that you're not safe. I'm here for you...

[ It was easy to give simple platitudes in moments like that, but Ursula's words had a deeper weight to them. She meant every word of them, and her knock out spells were prepared not to be used on any of these children... but on anyone that dared to hurt them. It was hard to say if this was the new cat!Ursula or it was just always part of her, but those who knew her well enough could tell how serious she was. ]

Sorry you have to see all of this. I promise classes aren't usually this... anxious. [ She turns her attention to another mirrorbound who'd come by, her face relaxing some as she gently pets the head of one of her students that was starting to fall asleep against her shoulder. ]

We were supposed to be learning the layout of the city today... I guess it will have to wait.

[ wildcard ]

[ if you've got something that isn't covered in these prompts, hit me up, as i am down to clown with anything. you can contact me on discord or plurk, too, if you want to plot something specific out! ]

i-b!

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard had woken with the sudden explosion of noise outside the apartment he and Trevor had gone with for the time being. Everything is still far too overwhelming, and Alucard's kept most of his focus on simply settling in, equipping them both with the bare necessities, and trying to observe Trevor so that they could figure out what kind of Monster nonsense would be visited upon them both. (The baggage of the two words was something Alucard still refused to engage with. There was just no time for it.)

He hadn't wanted to go outside and deal with the matter. It was too dark, and his stupidly human eyes were going to be of no help whatsoever. But then he had looked out the window and found that his usual eyesight was indeed back, and he muttered some gratitude.

Then something had smashed the window next to him and frankly, that was the last straw. If nothing else, he needed the damn thing paid for and repaired, and so he had marched downstairs and into the streets, only to meet the full of the chaos.

It wasn't worth getting involved in, not when he still barely understood the place. But then a familiar voice caught his (yet again normal but excellent) hearing. It was nothing at all to walk over (speed, actually, Ursula was further away than initially expected), Alucard's figure suddenly there when he hadn't been before.]

Which way are they heading then?

[bloodypath]

A. [Donate blood to the vampire bar, they said. Do it live, and we'll pay you triple, they said. It sounded like an incredible way to get a base of money going, after arriving with next to nothing.]

[But as the fog, and the violence breaks out with the moons, Hubert finds himself utterly unprepared to fend off the Monster pursuing him through the Haven's streets—he's anemic from his "donation", and hasn't even had two weeks to hone his new magical abilities.]

[The Monster, either a too-fanged harpy gone half-leathery, or a full mooned vampire sprouting feathers, pursues him doggedly. It's all he can do to run breathlessly from structure to structure, blinding its sensitive nightvision with flashes of light when it corners him, just long enough to slip back away. But this pace wasn't sustainable—help?]

B. [The knock-out spell is simple, he thinks—or at least, the components are. Hubert traces the sigil over and over in his hidden alley, murmurs the words repeatedly, but that isn't the issue; Aefenglom's magic is still brand new to him, and powering the damn thing, manipulating the raw magic how he needs to, isn't going as well as he'd like. Normally, the mage performs well under pressure, but the stress of the situation and pushing himself far too hard too soon has given him a tremendous headache. That wasn't helping at all.]

This is more difficult than I anticipated, [He grumbles, glancing up.]

[Did you stumble into this alleyway seeking shelter from the chaos, or as something more feral-minded seeking prey? Regardless, Hubert warily grasps the odd, spiral-headed gold lance next to him.]

Wildcard

[Toss a prompt at me and I'll do my best!]

B.

[fordeath]

[ relative weakling that he is, amadeus would liked to have turned heel and sped on home, avoided the clutches of feral monster claws and the blunt end of a discontent looter's weapon. unfortunately, he is forever possessed with a night owl's (hah) fancies despite being a witch, making company with the sister moons and the special type of life that comes out only in the late hours.

at least ... he figured he was a witch, until the mist rolled in, granted him a pair of new wings, set of inhibitions to battle, and effectively ruined his night on the town.

after his talons come in, amadeus finds himself stumbling into an alleyway that's already occupied. he huffs. ] Ah-Ahah, I can't even writhe on the floor in peace, hm? [ whiner. but he certainly isn't feral, so he'd appreciate no weapons being drawn at this time!

he did hear the man say something before he decided to make his home on the ground against the wall, though... ] ... Ah, is that the knock-out spell?

Osamu Dazai | OTA

[proficience]

I-b. Widespread Chaos

[Having had his shift at the bar interrupted by the sudden sprouting of large, majestic wings, Dazai leaves the building, said wings slamming into the door frame, with the ultimate goal in mind to head home.

He's hoping he'll run into one of his Bonded there not Chuuya, though, please, but instead, happens to catch quite a bit of chaos ensuing near several shops. Chaos that he really shouldn't get himself involved in, but his curiosity is piqued.

As well as his desire to loot merchandise and/or get into a fight. Why? He's not sure, but he'd guess that it has to do with the sudden change in his physical form.

Dazai may be seen flying on top of shops or instigating a fight with anyone. He won't be trying to break up a fight, though, since he has no motivation to at all.]

II - Damage Control - [CW: DEATH]

[It begins with a soft pang in his chest. A pang that would normally mean very little, if anything at all. But it grows quickly and with intensity, enough to where he has to sit down.

The wings, of course, make doing so difficult and awkward, and he'll shift around a few times on a bench before he's 'comfortable.' Though, in all honesty, he can't be completely comfortable, as the pang becomes worse. His arm tingles, too.

He'll stand up and rush over to the nearest individual, no care in his mind as to who it might be.]

Do you feel strange at all?

[He'd appear paler than normal, but he's a vampire. Pale is just how he looks now.

Whether the individual answers him or not, he'll soon clutch his chest with both hands and groan --

Then, he'll keel over.]

IV - Aftermath [CW: Mention of death]

[No matter where his body may lie, Dazai will awaken not too long after his death. Which, of course, still feels as if it were a dream.

Did he actually die?

He'll sit up and glance around, hand over his chest once again, as he takes a few deep breaths.]

A-ah ...

V. WILDCARD

[Anything goes! Celes#5178 or danger if you'd like to plot!]

ii

[mantiger]

-- Dazai-san?!

[ He was just about to tell him that no, he doesn't feel strange at all in spite of the fact that he's suddenly received cat ears, a tail and the tiger limbs he's managed to get, which means that his shirt sleeves are in tatters along with his pants and shoes.

Rest in pieces, Atsushi's clothes.

Nevertheless, he's going to keep close to him and shake him to see if he'll possibly wake up. And even check for a pulse, even if it's difficult to do so like this. And more than that... isn't Dazai a vampire? Would he even have a pulse? ]

flat escardos | fate/strange fake | ota

[escardos]

ib. widespread chaos

[ the way that chaos spreads across aefenglom is something that seems to be putting everyone on high alert. wherever flat looks, there's orders being shouted, witches and monsters despairing over the newest changes on their body as a result of this strange magic.

the mist is visible, and it's nothing like the one that he saw in snowfield--but flat's certain that it could become just as dangerous as that one. even if no one is falling into a coma, the chaos it's spreading is quite massive, isn't it? people might actually get hurt because of this.

and while he seems rather calm, perhaps it's...too calm, considering the situation. he smiles, looking to the distance. ]

Seems like things are getting really exciting, hm?

ii. damage control (cw: blood and chance of being injured)

[ truth be told, flat's descent into a feral state wasn't so much falling as it was slowly sauntering down into it. in fact, he barely notices himself that there's anything wrong with him, especially amidst all the destruction around the city.

even with a knife in his hands, that's already coated in blood, he doesn't believe that anything is particularly wrong with him. flat hides in an alleyway in one of the poorer districts, his face, body, and weapon hidden under a dark cloak. as he sets his sight on someone-- his next prey, flat decides that it's time to lure them in. ]

Hey! [ he sounds friendly, concerned, even ] Think you can help me out here?? Please?

iii. closed to tryhard (and later towards_okeanos)

Waver!

[ despite everything that's going on, despite himself, flat's concern is heavily focused on one person in specific: waver. so of course he's going to want to seek him out, his concern overriding any other impulses that he may have.

above all, he wants to make sure that waver is safe. he's his future professor, after all--the person that cared for him when no one else did.

so it's only obvious that, when he finds him, flat can't help but smile in relief as he runs over to him. ]

I'm so glad you're alright!

iv. aftermath

[ once it's all said and done, flat seems to act...like nothing happened. he paces around city in the evening, too restless to actually sleep or stay still in one place. you may find him in the haven, or perhaps in the docks, or somewhere in between.

he looks around, and laughs--it's forced. ]

Man, everyone's so gloomy after what happened. So much for those celebrations they were having, right?

( ooc: so flat will either try to point a knife at your character in the second prompt, or maybe even go as far as trying to attack them. however, he's not very strong at all, so the chances of a serious injury are very low.

if you'd like to plot something, hmu on discord @ tori#3410 or odasaku !! i'm totally open for new things! )

iii.

[tryhard]

[ 'Alright' might be a stretch.

Flat finds Waver eventually in the shopping district, near the apothecary where he works. Perhaps he'd been trying to run there to find something that could help. It's difficult to tell now. He's crouched on the street with his back to one of the buildings, head down between his raised knees, clutching the sides of it in obvious pain.

The way his tail lashes behind him looks... wrong. Longer. Shiny-black like leather in the low light of the magitech lamp-posts illuminating the cobblestone street.

When Flat approaches, shouting his name, Waver lifts his head. In the night, his eyes shine an intense red, fangs flashing when he snarls, wordlessly. It might have been a warning. ]

L Lawliet | OTA

[hearthebell]

I. B: Widespread Chaos

[L’s runes protect his household against physical threats that can perceive them. The air, or in this case mist that had seeped through the windows and under the doors, didn’t give a damn about any such spells. The sleepers had woken to the beginnings of absurd and frightening changes, and now? Well… the city is erupting, confusion reigns, and L should be in the apartment where no attackers can easily harm him.

...but he’s so hungry.

No one who has met L would think that anything was off at first glance. He’s still too thin and pale, still hollow-eyed, wan and drawn as he shuffles through frantic and chaotic crowds with a dreamlike, weaving countenance. If you get much closer, though, a sharp glint of fangs between his bloodless, parched-looking lips are a dead giveaway that he’s not one of the lucky few who escaped the mist’s effects.

Well. An undead giveaway, more like.

He’s freezing cold. You know this, because he’s attempting to move closer to your body, pressing against you, shivering through the cream-colored coat wrapped tightly around his extremely bony frame. If by some miracle of kindness or shock you allow him to get close, well… turning his head brings him irresistibly close to a pulse point.]

II. Damage Control

[It’s a bad time to be caught outside. Sheltered under an awning, L is doing his best to avoid the sun, having learned at dawn’s first light that it burns, now. Quite literally. His illusion and divination specialty aren’t much help at present, his Bond with another witch isn’t the stablest thing on the best of days, and so the result is simply sheltering in place until help comes along.

He pulls his watch from his pocket. He could requisition the help of someone he knows, but there’s no guarantee that they’re not tied up with something distressing, themselves. Instead, he catches your eye, or tries to, even if you seem a touch feral.

If you seem more than a touch feral, he’s backing up, slowly, until his shoulderblades are pressing into the brick of the store front. He’s not in the mood or the condition to fight right now, and even if he was, he’s clearly at a disadvantage.]

III. Wildcard

[Don’t see it? Want it? Hit me up on discord at ladylazarus#2235, or on plurk at Lexil, or PM this account! Also feel free to come up with your own prompt within reason, with the exception of anything occurring during the event’s Aftermath!]

I. B

[corruptedgravity]

[ There's too many people mulling about and sometimes it could make it hard to move around in. He's especially found this hard when he's got a damn tail, fluffy and matching his haircolor. So in the midst of sidestepping someone, Chuuya directly ends up running into someone without realizing it until it's too late.

His instincts are quick and he turns to face the other man, and he's far too close now, wasn't he? The first thing Chuuya picks up on is the complete and utter chill to the stranger's form and it seems so familiar. Like he's experienced this before and it's enough to allow the other to get closer to him without completely realizing it. ]

Oi. Are you going to be alright?

[ Feels almost like a stupid thing to ask, but he's at least not shoving the other away from him right now. Mostly because his instincts are telling him not to. ]

If you're that cold you should probably get inside.

Monika | OTA

[loadme]

[The (Naga) Transformation]

[Monika doesn't escape the effects of the mist, changing and altering her body. Scales, fangs, a forked tongue, slitted reptilian eyes, and finally: long, massive snake tail that both matches the green color of her eyes, and is frankly impossible to miss. The initial shock and surprise hit her hard, but she's past that point. Right now she's simply trying to move about and is having a rough time of it. Just leaving her apartment took far too long, the disconnect between her mind and altered body making it a challenge to even make it out the door. Still, she makes it through and puts forward her best attempt at... slithering.

Sometimes she finds a good rhythm.

Most of the times, she needs to find some kind of support to hold on to.

And other times she ends up losing her balance and falling flat on her face. She struggles to make herself upright again, asking the nearest person for help.]

Can you please help me up? I just... need help.

[Not every day that you unexpectedly lose both your legs.]


[Widespread Chaos]

[Monika tries her best to lend a helping hand, or least stay out of the way. Easier said than done when she still had to deal with a massive and cumbersome snake tail. Even so, she still looks for an opportunity to do... anything. Unfortunately, she keeps being distracted.

An unattended stall with the wares left out in the sun for too long.

Freshly baked pastries that have just now been taken out of the oven.

She finds herself fascinated with these warm items, to the point where she takes them without paying. It's not like there isn't enough looting and theft going on already, but contributing to the problem can't be good.

Especially if she gets caught.]

I... oh.

I'm so sorry. I don't...

I don't know what came over me!

[Maybe the owner of these products buys her apology, or maybe they're not hearing it and are straight up shouting and threatening her. Whatever happens, it's clear that she needs someone to either de-escalate or to just keep her from doing it again.]


[State of Emergency]

[Dropping temperatures and being cold-blooded makes for a dangerous combination, one that Monika is keenly aware of now. Tired, she's so tired. Her movements become even slower than before, and she struggles just to stay awake. She's not able fight it off for much longer. The best attempt is made to find an out-of-the-way spot where Monika can sleep.

Just for a little bit.

But when you're as big as her, finding an "out-of-the-way" spot is already a challenge, especially with all the chaos that is happening.

A chair, a bench, an alley, or even in the middle the street.

You could find Monika "napping" in any of these spots.

The announcement wakes her up momentarily, but it's all too easy for her to fall back asleep.

Not only is her size likely causing an obstruction, but all the anti-monster and anti-mirrorbound sentiment going around makes it even more dangerous for her as she's basically defenseless.]


[Closed prompt for Natsuru - nsfw]

[Normally, she would be wide awake by now. But it's the second morning and Monika is still is bed. Keeping her company today is her Roommate-turned-Bonded, Natsuru. The two had become far more affectionate and comfortable with one another ever since Bonding. Previous boundaries of personal space had become much more disregarded since then, to the point where they were willing to share the same bed with each other, even now as their bodies had become so... different.

She was beginning to stir, to finally wake up, but Monika still had a long ways to go.]

Mmmmph...

[Her arms and tail were both wrapped around Natsuru, practically (though gently) constricting her at this point with her snake tail directly below her Bonded's breasts, and the very tip squeezing right in between them.]

Just a little bit longer, please.

[She was so tired, and Natsuru was so warm.]


[Wildcard option available!]

transformation

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ They've really got to stop running into each other like this. Berserker's a mess himself right now, barely holding onto control of his feral instincts. It's...unusual to see Monika so transformed, certainly. Just what's going on...?

Unlike the last time they (literally) ran into each other, he doesn't offer her a hand up. ]

Learn to walk again, otherwise you won't survive.

[ He certainly has a flair for the dramatic. ]

Elliot Craig | Witch + Dragon Parts | mostly OTA

[fiddlestick]

I-a. Late Night Transformation (CW: Body Horror)
[Unfortunately for Elliot, he loved staying up late. It was his favorite time to compose, to work on music, and just enjoy the late night. As such, he'd been taking a late night walk when the fog rolled in. At first, other than the odd purple tint, Elliot didn't take much notice of it beyond noting the lessened visibility. It was probably a sign he should start in the direction of home.

But before he could reach home, the effects started kicking in. In the street, he doubled over in pain. So many parts of his body suddenly burned with pain as they start to change in ways they weren't supposed to, and much faster than monster changes usually happy for mirrorbound. Horns began growing out of his head, his shoulderblades bulged and twisted
before blue feathery wings sprouted from his back, scales and claws begin to form and so on. He manages to drag himself to a nearby alley where all he can do is curl up as the pain and changes continue. It should be easy enough to find him, as he keeps making pained noises as this goes on.]

I-b. Transformation, sans body horror!
[Either the pain finally subsided, or he passed out from the pain and woke up when it was finally finished. Whatever the case may be, slowly he becomes aware of what just happened. Horns, scales, claws, wings, a tail and other dragon features covered his body. His clothes were torn up from the sudden transformation, and he looked like he had a rough night altogether]

Aidios, how could this...?

[He was a witch wasn't he? Why did he have sudden dragon features? Slowly, he becomes aware of the rest of the chaos going on the street. He wasn't the only one who'd experience such rapid changes. Just what happened?

In a better state of mind, he'd probably stick around to try to help people. But he just turned into a dragon, so he's freaked out enough to let his anxiety win this one. He pulls himself up and starts trying to make his way back to his house. Maybe you see him trying to head there, stumbling to keep his balance on these new body parts.

For the people he lives with, he finally comes through the door sometime around dawn - hours after he usually comes home from late night ventures. ]

Anyone home?!

II-a. Feral Fun: Dragon Hoard the Musical
[For most of the first day, he sticks close to home as he gets used to these sudden changes. He feels more agitated than usual, but it's hard to tell if that's a sign of going feral or just because of the night he had. It's Elliot, so even him agitated is far from intimidating.

By the evening, however, the monster instincts become too hard to resist. He slips out of the house. There, you might find him among the junk piles locals had set out for Samhein, digging out any instruments (or anything that could be used for music really) to take for his own hoard. His eye for musical treasure soon stretches past the discarded junk pile. Left an instrument unattended? He's swiping it. Cellphones from your world? He's heard there's MP3 songs on those things, so he's grabbing those too? That random bucket you were using for cleaning? Well, those can be made into drums- so it's his.

Luckily if you catch him, it's easy enough to get back your stuff. He'll hiss and maybe swipe some claws at you, but he's still weak enough to be easily overpowered. Even his "dragon breath" is nothing more than a stream of bubbles. He's not even fast if he tries to run. So honestly, you have no one to blame but yourself if you fail to get back your stuff. ]

II-b. Feral Fun 2: 🌶 (established CR only please)
[Monster instincts or not, Elliot is not an aggressive person. He avoids fights and would probably lose any fights he got into. Being a dragon would not change this, and even his wild animal brain knows this.

However fighting things isn't the only things love to do. So if he happens upon any guys he finds attractive? He might feel more embolden to do something about it instead of being timid. So he'll move closer to them and attempt to get their attention by... flapping his wings, and bobbing his head. Maybe even hopping around if he feels strongly about it. Is there an explanation? No. It just felt like the thing to do.

Maybe it'd be better for everyone if you knocked him out. ]

III. Sanity Returns
[While the physical features seem to stick around the whole time, he finally manages to regain his head entirely by the third day. And so, he'll help out where he can. Healing, patrolling with his friends, trying to pretend the last two prompts didn't happen. If you want help from a healer or a friend, this is your time. ]

Wildcard
[Got another prompt for me? Hit me up either here or at neutronstar!]

I-b

[overworker]

[Normally, Towa would have already been up. This time, it's hearing Elliot come in that wakes her up. But she's glad for it-- since she didn't wake up on her own. At least until she notices her own changes with a start.

So it's not just that she's still in her modest nightgown-- it's that she also has some unique new features; including ears, tail, claws and piercing cat eyes.]

E-Elli...ot?

[Those are definitely cat ears raised in concern, as she takes in his changes.]

(Calamity) Jane Canary | Witch | ota

[befucked]

I.c. State of Emergency

[Jane is one of the lucky few who wakes without anything untoward sprouting out of her.

As far as healing magic--or any kind of magic--goes, she couldn't have less of a clue, but she is awake, visibly unaffected, and visibly Mirrorbound, when she staggers out into the street in the wee hours, fully-dressed. That is enough to prompt some unfortunate from the Coven to grab her and encourage her to come along to one of the stations they're setting up for tending to the afflicted.

So, those distressed or incapacitated by their changes might find themselves hoisted onto a cot with Jane leaning over them, trying to disguise fright and confusion behind a tensely-pressed frown.]

Right--y'just...fuckin' lie there, and don't worry about those bits, uh--poking the fuck out of ya, there. Doc says we'll get those taken care of, after the rest of you's been seen to--

[Someone has, at least, seen fit to show her one of the more basic healing spells that any Witch ought to know. So, Jane holds her breath and helps with tending to anyone not in critical condition--sometimes muttering and gesturing above them as she works a minor bit of magic herself, sometimes just holding them down as some more experienced Witch does the honors.]

Now, stop with the fuckin' squirming, or we'll hafta see if chopping those parts the fuck off helps any...!

[Is her very impatient diagnosis of anyone with obviously unfitting, Monstrous growths that might get in the way of her treatment!]

III. Refugees

[By the day after the first night, someone's mentioned the status of the Dorchacht refugees to Jane. And, while she doesn't truly understand the nature of the strife between Aefenglom and its darker, sister city, she thinks she gets the essential point: They're strangers here, from a place that's cruel and unjust as anywhere, being blamed for a plague that no one has a fucking rational explanation for.

Jane hasn't slept since the wee hours at that point, but she staggers from the Coven's set-up for first-aid and medical care to one of the corner rowhouses where the former Dorchacht residents have been settled. With her pistol bared prominently on her hip, she plants herself against the stoop one of the buildings, pressed tight against the wall, as if constantly expecting attack.]

Declare yourself, goddamn you!

[Is her reaction to anyone seeking to go past or inside who isn't clearly one of the residents of the block who's chosen to linger, rather than fleeing for the Harbor.]

Step forward and state your purpose, 'fore I pump you the fuck full of silver and...worse ammunition that's at my fuckin' disposal!

[She...just has normal bullets, if we're being honest. But they're bullets that will absolutely wing past the ear of anyone who decides to ignore that warning.]

IV. Aftermath

[When the chaos has ceased, Jane is close to three nights sleepless, slumped over a bar. The bandolier done up across her waist is empty by that point. The rest of her, after her first attempts at conjuring, feels exactly the same--a limp outline, only vaguely tracing what was supposed to fill it out, before now.]

Whiskey.

[She groans, and thrusts the small amount in wages she's collected for her assistance the past few nights across the bar, before her cheek hits the hardwood. She refuses to open her eyes until she hears the clink of glass close to her ear.]

Leave the bottle, and then do not attempt to rouse me for a goddamn week.

[whydogs]

[Jill had been working as a volunteer bartender, serving the whiskey without missing a beat, and left the bottle just as she'd been asked to.]

I probably won't, but the other staff here might.

Towa Herschel | OTA

[overworker]

I. The Mist

a. Mornyan (Trails Household)

[Through the night, Towa slept surprisingly well. More than she normally would have. Unlike her, she sleeps through her body's natural alarm. The sun is rather bright when she does stir. There's a natural sense that something is off as she yawns awake, but nothing that stops her from going about her morning routine-- albeit with a bit more gusto as she jumps out of the bed, realizing she slept in an hour later than she intended to. But when she makes her way to the mirror; the reflection that greets her is both her own and yet not. Cat eyes stare back in shock, and ears twitch and fold back naturally as her expression shifts to horror. Her nails, normally cut short and neat have grown out to sharp, yet manageable lengths. And behind her, a tail swishes anxiously with it's hair on end.

All who share a residence with her may hear the cat-like screech as she recognizes that she is very much not still asleep.]

b. Afternyan (Out and About)

[Having had some time to come to terms with the changes, Towa is ever the type to press forward and not let things keep her down-- so she fully intends to do her best with this situation.

It takes some getting used to. Those with feathery or fishy changes may notice her eyes drawn to them in an almost predatory way. The eyes follow, in an almost trance-like state. She seems to be adjusting her stance; going low to the ground and--

Just one sudden move and they may find themselves being pounced upon, her small body doing the best it can to tackle them to the ground, pressed under her smaller predator body.

...at which point she seems to realize what she's done as it slowly sinks in, a flustered look on her face bringing with it an embarrassed apology.]

O-oh my gosh, I-I'm so so sorry!

c. Evenyan (Out and About)

[Towa normally keeps all kinds of hours with her various work. But keeping her usual schedule has been incredibly difficult for a change. Between instincts that want her to nap in the sun or chase some shiny thing or another, focus isn't her strong suit right now and it's several kinds of frustrating.]

...focus, Towa! Just need to get to the grocery store...

[Maybe she could use some help-- for better or for worse, either sticking to or breaking free from her scheduled lifestyle; whether you want to bring order or chaos to her life.]

Wildcard. Anything else not covered above can be worked out in here! Throw something at me, or plot something with me. I can do personalized starters too, for any plans!

b

[prayerwheel]

[ She's mostly puca, but her arms are pretty scaly. Merrow, she thinks? Fitting, that she'd be a water monster. She doesn't understand the puca part, though.

And yeah, she's distracted enough that Towa lands a complete strike on her. Down she goes, with a yelp. ]

My gods! [ a slight huff. she looks a little bit mad, but not nearly as much as a normal person would be for getting running-tackled by a stranger. hm ] What was that for?

Jill Stingray | OTA

[whydogs]

[Transformation]

[Honestly, out of all the possible outcomes, cat-features were least harmful for her. Glitch City was already home to a number of Cat Boomers, so the idea wasn't all that strange to her.

What was strange was that she was now one of them. Well, sort of.

Unlike Cat Boomers, she had lost her human ears, with her new cat ears being fully functional. It was fucking weird, especially now that her hearing was so good... and loud.

Loud enough that it was giving her a headache.

And let's not forget that she also had a cat's tail, too.

It didn't even stop there, with Jill now having a number of cat-like urges.

Such as grooming herself.

Being in public didn't seem to stop her, nor did she seemed any less inclined if someone happened was staring.]

What? Can't a girl clean herself in peace?


[Damage Control]

[Jill had volunteered to help with businesses that had remained open, but were understandably short-staffed thanks to all the chaos. It felt like the best use of her time, and it was a bit of a habit of hers to keep herself busy with work even as society crumbled.

Her specialty was still bartending, but customer service was a skill that could be applied in just about field.

More than that, she wanted to provide as comfortable and safe an experience as possible. Even if it just meant lending a listening ear, she wanted to offer that.]

Welcome. What can I help you with today?

[Jill's intentions were good, and she was successful for the most part. But she also had to wrestle with the constant, gnawing urges in her mind. Grooming herself, her attention being distracted by the idea of playing with small objects, purring... And more.]


[Aftermath]

That's not how the whole "turning into a monster" was supposed to have been, right? I'm fact I'm pretty sure none of that was supposed to have happened just now.

[Don't mind her, she's just confused and complaining, much like everybody else.]

Anyways, are you alright? Looks like it's finally over.


[Wildcard option available!]

Connor | Detroit: Become Human | Merrow (OTA)

[plasticasshole]

The Mist: I

[Connor has eased into his own physical transformation, which is nothing but an extra pair of dog ears. They stand tall on the top of his head, alert, blending in with his hair. The process had been painless, because androids don't feel pain. Unremarkable, really.

Mostly, he's feeling the psychological changes. Which means he's not only on edge and potentially looking for a fight... he's back to stealing for his hoard. He takes advantage of the looting to pick pretty jewellery out, and will absolutely fight for it if someone tries to stop him, or take it away.

The Mist: II (probably nsfw)

Elsewhere, he's also on the prowl... for a potential mate. Maybe he's decided you're suitable, because he's standing closer than he needs to be as he addresses you.]

It's not safe out here. Maybe we could do something else to pass the time?

[Of course, he's not interested if you aren't... and will probably leave again in that case, because who has time for that? But if you take his offer, know that he's not going to be gentle.]

Damage Control: I

[You know what Connor doesn't need right now? To be blamed for this mess. He feels more indignant than usual, more hostile, and so when he hears a wealthy man mumbling to himself that everyone would be better off without the Mirrorbound... well, Connor takes it personally.

Anyone can find Connor beating the man outside his shop, while he cowers on the ground and screams for help. Most people are too afraid to actually step in, but maybe someone should. You know, before he actually kills him.]

Damage Control: II

[Finding Connor in a better mood is rare, but it happens. In those moments when he regains some control over himself he feels remorseful, and tries to do his best to help. He breaks up fights instead of causing them, he helps people clean up the messes left behind by looters. His ears droop sadly as he works. Maybe some friendly conversation would cheer him up?]

Full Moons (Reference)

[Connor usually spends the Full Moons in his pool, but he's taken to the ocean tonight. The waves are choppy and cold, but Connor can deal with that. His strange eyes blindly scan the beach, seeing nothing but what lies a few feet ahead of him- and even that is fuzzy. But he can see outlines of people, and when he does... he starts to hum. The song is sweet and pulls you in, whether you want to approach him or not. But he is looking for company, or is he looking for a victim? That might depend on who you are. If he doesn't know you when you're close enough for him to see, you might be whisked away under the waves.]

Wildcard

[Hit me up at novicecity or novicecity#8049 if you want to hash things out! As a note: in the last prompt, Connor can and will drown people but only if that's something you want. I'll default to just talking unless it's stated in your header that you want him to be hostile!]

The Mist II

[halfheartedmagician]

[It's late evening and Asra has had some time to deal with his own, relatively minor, changes. At a later time he might wonder if there's some part of this that dampens any chance of worrying about what's happened to him and others, but for now his attention is entirely elsewhere. Namely on suspending a thin chain of gold from the pearlescent unicorn horn that spirals from his forehead.

It catches the light of the setting sun as he turns and raises a pale brow at Connor.]

Oh? What are you so worried about? Not a fan of the dark?

Momiji Sohma | Puca (Now with Bonus Butterfly!Fae) | ota

[selfishwish]

I.b. Widespread Chaos

[Momiji had already felt off when he'd tucked himself in for the night before the full moon. The antsiness that had become a fact of life over the half-month prior had been getting worse the past few days, until it wasn't an itch so much as an ache, gnawing somewhere just below his skin--

And so it's a relief, a really wonderful one, when he wakes up feeling amazing. He crawls out from the covers, claws already tearing his pajama shirt off of himself, to let the gossamer wings he's grown overnight unfold freely. Pale scales, stretching from chin to chest, blend messily into the fur that's sprouted all across the rest of himself overnight, as if none of him's sure exactly what goes where anymore. Behind his suddenly-elfin features a pair of golden, feline eyes glimmer out at the rest of the world.

He doesn't bother to dress himself again before he creeps to the front stoop of Kyo's apartment and flutters off into the night sky, above the fog. The air smells cools and sweet, and he lifts aloft--

For the rest of the night, he can be found adventuring around the whole of the City. He starts in the Aristocratic District, lighting down at some of the manors on the border of the district that have already been touched by riots or Monster attacks. He certainly wouldn't want to break anything or hunt anyone! But, well, if the doors are off the hinges and the humans have gone to hide? That means there's nobody around to say that he can't take a stroll inside, or borrow anything that looks pretty or valuable or interesting. And even if there were?

It's all wealth they've been hoarding from the rest of them for too long, like rogue dragons. It's only fair that he helps fix that a little, tonight!

And then, when he's filled his pockets and his arms, there's no reason not to stir up a little bit more fun by swooping up over the city and then back down over the Harbor. Cunes, jewelry, and gems scatter from his pockets as he flutters high over the mob of orphans and discontents.

Momiji drapes himself across the tile of a roof safely out of reach of the chaos below and laughs, delighted, at the top of his lungs.]

II. Damage Control

[The outright mania passes with the first night. That doesn't mean he returns to his senses.

By the second day, he's earth-bound again, wary of flying over the Harbor and Shopping Districts whose alleys he knows better than the rest. But his fae features haven't retreated, nor has his respect for the peace or property of others regenerated. Instead, he flits furtively from street to street, on the lookout for Witches or other Monsters who don't know quite what to do with themselves.

For those who look sufficiently unawares, they might find a beaming blond sneaking up right behind to lift something from their pockets. Momiji will look entirely unflustered at being caught with his hands on their person; indeed, he'll look a little offended at any suggestion that he shouldn't be rooting around for valuables or curiosities. They're kind of rude for not putting up an offering in the first place, really! For those that seem more on-guard, meanwhile, he'll lift himself just out of reach above the street and frame the situation for them:]

Y'know, just 'cause we're in the city doesn't mean you're allowed to not offer anything. Pucas're supposed to get their share wherever, or...

[The boy crouching animalistically overhead, wings folded, smiles innocently, insistently wide.]

Or you get in big trouble.

IV. Aftermath

[The full moon passes. Momiji wakes up--somewhere, half-dressed and no longer furred or scaled, his pajamas torn and streaked with dirt. He's sore. A dramatic welt of a black-eye shows on one side of his face, and here and there across the rest of him he's worse for wear for the rough living of the past few nights.

Mostly, though? He's just...embarrassed and afraid. He hasn't forgotten any of the past few evenings, and on the morning after he can be found making a walk-of-shame back from the Harbor District towards the Haven. His feet and his chest are bare, and he trudges along with his hands thrust in his pockets, unearthing stray coins and bits of gold. He doesn't actually remember who any of it belongs to, specifically, or what he did to filch any particular bit.

But he knows none of it's actually his.]

U-um, maybe I should, just--

[This is why, eventually, he can be found halfway home on his journey, emptying the contents of his pockets over the side of the bridge, into the River Temese. It's not a solution, maybe, but it's undeniably a fix, and he's in too much of a state to think past that, for now--]

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?

Edelgard von Hresvelg | Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Vampire) | OTA

[unyieldingmarch]

The Mist

A. 3:05 AM

[Edelgard is a nightowl, yet the hour is a touch late even for her. She'd been in bed for a time, dozing lightly as always, the world's changes to her body not affected her sleeping patterns yet. She shifts uncomfortably, a sudden chill coming over her as the mist's power seeps into her new home. Shuddering, she draws the covers further around herself, and then the changes happen. A blood-curdling shriek splits the air from a nearby house and she's up and moving before the echoes fade.

Grabbing a tunic, she throws it on over her shift and grabs Aymr, the great dragonbone axe, and pounds down the stairs.

Bursting from the house she shares with Hubert, her stark white hair a mess of flyaway strands, she hefts the weapon and illuminates the darkened street with the harsh orange glow it gives off. She's hardly alone, and she'll grab the nearest person blindly.]

What's going on? Are we under attack?


B. Imperial Law and Order

[When it becomes more evident that this is the result of some unexplained sorcery and not the work of an enemy attack, Edelgard's instinct is to assist in maintaining order. A city wide panic could do a great deal of damage, and lead to many, many casualties. So, dressing quickly in her scarlet cloak and armor, she takes to the streets with Aymr strapped to her back and a stout club in her hand. Hopefully she'd need neither.

Spotting a group of looters making preparations to batter down the door of a goldsmith's shop, she waves towards another Mirrorbound.]

I think we can stop this and perhaps drive them to more productive endeavors. Will you join with me?


Damage Control

[Taking to the task of managing and maintaining control over the city naturally enough, Edelgard had sought out the Coven and been given several of their knockout slips. A much better solution than a staff, elegant and simple. Unfortunately, her armor plainly marks her as Mirrorbound, and her simplest endeavor of acquiring something as simple as food for breakfast seems stymied by this.

A bakery owner literally bellows at her to get out, and rather sheepishly she withdraws, looking around somewhat sullenly.]

I merely wanted to buy bread. How...strange.


Refugees

[She does not know the true depth of what happened in Dorchacht, but the scraps of news Edelgard did have set her on edge. So, she naturally sought out the clusters of families that had come from that city. And naturally, comes across them being belittled and assailed by locals.

So, she rushes in, putting herself between the refugees and a group of men, her armor catching the light in such away that she seems taller and more menacing.]

I would turn aside if I were you.

[Help? Hinder? Come at her.]


Wildcard

[If you want to do something that's not listed, or start differently, let me know and I'll even write you a custom prompt. HMU at intercession. note that I also have a spoiler opt out post in her journal]

damage control!

[poisontippedcure]

[While Rose has never been subject to this kind of discrimination before, she’s seen enough to understand what’s happening. She’s mostly keeping to herself, making herself seem as small as possible and avoiding being seen as a Mirrorbound.]

[But not everyone is so lucky, and it’s not long before she comes upon someone unceremoniously kicked out of a bakery.]

They need someone to blame, and we’re a convenient target. There’s nothing strange about it.

Jeremy Heere | OTA

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

I.

Jeremy is already pretty lost as to how daily life works in this place and he's not afraid to admit it. When the mist creeps in, he frets about poison gas or magical mysteries, but he hasn't got a way to stop it. No one else seems overly worried yet, so Jeremy's paranoia goes on the back burner.

Oddities begin happening before long, but Jeremy makes a strange peace with them.

He's calm, collected, and... a little out of it, to be honest. If Michael sees him, he'll recognize the expression as Jeremy being stoned out of his mind.

He's not giggling at nothing for a quarter hour. He's gone in a different way, staring out into the horizon blankly. Instead of hiding in his new home, he wanders out into the street, shoes unlaced and hair askew. Whenever someone approaches, he'll turn his head to them, staring through them at something faraway. Sometimes he'll approach them, but his speech is... unusual.

"The price of stone as red as blood is shed within the deepest wood."

"In hidden secrets of the soul you sear secretions torn or whole."

"Beware the lies your poets sing, for false reprise shall name a king."

None of it makes sense.

"Unlock the crown, your heroes hurled far upside-down--the minus world."

...Sometimes they're just about Zelda hidden levels.

There are moments of lucidity, times when Jeremy will shake his head with a smile and question why he's being stared at, but they become less common as the hysteria from the mist reaches its peak.

II.

Wildcard

[Let me know if you'd like to interact with Jeremy another way. Jeremy is an Oracle for the duration of the event, but none of his prophecies will be remotely usable because of how incomprehensibly vague they are. When he wakes up from his dissociative fugue, he won't remember anything he's said.

If you would like to use them to foreshadow something about your character, message me OOC!]

I

[hearthebell]

[With his untied shoes and messy hair, Jeremy admittedly looks even more like L, in a way that disagrees with the detective so much that he actually bends down to make sure that his shoes are tied, smooths a hand through his unruly locks the way the SQUIP taught him so that his hair would still look unkempt, but artfully and intentionally so.

He really doesn't want to be like him, especially now, after the SQUIP professed its rejection of him for its new user. L even wears a ring now, to prove it, but... though it fit perfectly at the time it was gifted, now that L is taking on the more inconvenient traits of a vampire, it's practically spinning behind his prominent and bony finger joint.]

What?

[He asks blankly, seeing Jeremy on the street spouting what sounds to be utter gibberish.]

Just so you know...

[He tries to think of how to phrase it, and then just gives up.]

That's really stupid.

Alucard | Castlevania

[cryptsleeper]

I-C; Mist fighting
[Alucard's been awake since the chaos erupted, loud and wild and in truth, annoying. Everything he's felt in the past two weeks has thus transformed and settled into one emotion, and that is pure irritation that threatens to border on anger. It is a constant, low thrum in the back of Alucard's mind, and as he watches the mist snake through a city plaza, that thrumming increases in volume.

He's cleared this area out at least, beating down doors to demand that people leave but now into parts of the city that are known to be without the stuff.

But oh, he can hear approaching foot steps. His hearing is back, hell, it's better than it ever was, and he whips around. The statement is far more of a furious command, and it comes with barred fangs.]

Unless you can dispel this with wind, go back to where you were.

IV. Aftermath
[The only word for all that has occurred is intense. A fire that roared to life, burnt everything it could, and then faded because it's purpose was completed. Alucard can only imagine that this is what home is like in the aftermath of Dracula's rage, and he does not like a single ounce of it.

He cannot do the work of repairing home. The most that he's capable of doing right now is the basic work of clearing debris from where it is the worst. His own focus on the parts of the city that focus on every day goods - the grocery stores and the like - because meeting basic needs? That's the most important thing in his book. Politics and individual property damage is secondary to being able to get food and water.]

--Is that box undamaged? They're organizing everything that qualifies as still sellable around the corner. Take it there.

Wildcard

wildcarding

[quickwhip]

[ It's been a couple or so weeks now since he fell through a bloody mirror and ended up... here. in a place filled with monsters and witches and who knows what else. At first, he had thought himself alone. But then he came across Alucard and, not really having anyone else, they've stuck together as a merry little duo rather than trio; part of him wonders how Sypha is doing.

They've got themselves a place, Alucard is... different and Trevor himself hasn't done much in the way of figuring out what the hell to do here or make ends meet. That's apparently a thing they need to do now? Or something. Whatever. Honestly, he's felt tired as the days go by and he can't even blame it on the alcohol. He figures it must be a sort of adjustment to being here and in a world filled with "friendly monsters" or whatever, it's an adjustment alright when you just came from nearly getting killed by Dracula and his army.

He lays there in his bed in the room he's taken for himself in their humble little abode here and tugs the blanket over him a little tighter. He's felt tired all day and even annoyed for some reason and he finds himself idly chewing on a corner of the blanket, not even realizing he's doing so. It's not until he sits himself up that he just stares out his window. He wants... to go outside. For some reason. Do something. Be somewhere. Whatever. He just... feels antsy.

Crawling out of bed, he makes his way over to the window, still staring outside, still feeling like he needs to do something. That's when he comes to open the window up, wanting to crawl out it and, in the process, knocks over whatever vase or thing (like he knows) sits on the window's ledge, sending it to the floor with a loud crash. ]

OTA

[inlikethebrume]

The Mist: Widespread Chaos/State of Emergency

[Mira finds herself one of the luckier folks within the city, unchanged and wits kept about. Although it doesn't seem luck is much in her favor, having decided going outside in the middle of the night for a nice walk. She has Shadowbringer with her, like anyone would even try to attack while she has a greatsword the size of her strapped on her back.

A group will find themselves on her path as they go from place to place and take anything they want, one of them does see the dark knight and points what appears to be some makeshift wooden tool...was that supposed to be a weapon? They demand for her to relieve herself of any valuables, only to have Shadowbringer cut down the tool with ease.]

I think it is time for you to go home now.

[There's a hint of a smirk as she watches the terrified expressions of the looters as they scamper away. She shakes her head, worried at the scenes before her.]

It looks like it's time to do what I do best.

[But did it count if the city is going mad? Mira doesn't question it for now, people may be hurt. Don't mind the lady with the sword running around and stopping looters. She doesn't even need to use it! Mostly. Or you may see her using said sword as a shield for some poor innocent as she guides them to safety.]


Damage Control

[She's been up all night and while walking through the streets, she felt something moist hit her cheek. While she's grateful her spectacles were not the target, Mira feels the moisture and realizes it is sticky and warm.

Did someone just spit at her?

She simply wipes it off her cheek and continues to walk but can hear the voices talk down to her. "It's the Mirrorbounds' fault this happened!" One hisses nearby which makes Mira turn and face her coldly.]

Quite a different tune you sing. Were you not someone protected by one who you curse?

[Instead, she keeps walking and takes the jeers. Their words mean nothing to her...even if she feels like smacking someone.]


Wildcard

[Got a different idea in mind? Hit me up!]

damage control; general spoiler warning

[unsundered]

[Emet-Selch catches the near-altercation by chance, holding back to see how Mira handled things. He'd received... similar reactions as well, and had reacted by either ignoring it, or with the application of a few more claws. It wasn't as though being disliked was a new thing to him, but being hassled was an annoyance. And the Ascian had very little patience left to spare on a spiteful population.

Unlike Mira, Emet-Selch was somewhat less fortunate when it came to the transformation aspect of the present days. Dark feline ears were set on his head- currently showing caution, if not particular concern- and a long tail was concealed under the solidity of his coat. Needle-like claws prevented the use of his usual gloves, and he had a bizarre inclination to knock objects off of ledges.

Mentally, at least, he was otherwise as fine as he ever was.

Which. Didn't say much, really.

When no outright violence seems about to take place, he moves to approach. Falling into step beside Mira, Emet-Selch glances sideways at her, ears curious, expression neutral. Considering some of the things he'd learned recently- there's a slight hesitation in his manner. Not wariness, exactly, but uncertainty.]

Enjoying the hospitality of the locals, I see.

[This was just how mortals were, after all, it didn't surprise him.]

Kyo Sohma l Fruits Basket

[juzubeads]

Mist:

Transformations:

[Kyo isn't unused to this. The pain and changes from being a monster. Let alone in dealing with his True Form back home with the curse, with being the Cat. But at the same time? This is....way too much. Way too much all at once.

He's just heading home back from the dojo when it happens and he doubles over in pain, crying out in surprise when he sprouts wings from his back. Of course he knows. Knows he is turning into a cat, that the moon makes it worse. But he still isn't anticipating this, and he screams. He stumbles as he tries to break out into a run to get somewhere -- anywhere where he would be alone.]

State of Emergency:

[Kyo might eventually end up being dragged to see the healers. But he doesn't seem too thrilled about it. He pouts, initially trying to shrug off the healers unless they were particularly insistent with him.]

I'm...I'm fine.

[Except for the grimace and winces of pain. The hisses under his breath, and the obvious transformations that aren't related to him being a cat Turnskin.]

II: Damage Control:

[It's pretty normal for Kyo to be angry or agitated about something. It's just been moreso with the mist and the effects of it messing with him. So he is probably a lot quicker to snap, a lot more likely to just lash out with a punch or kick if he is pissed off. That on top of how feral he is in lashing out and being furious at the situation, so scared, probably does mean someone might need to knock him out for a while at least.]

Aftermath:

[For anyone he might have lashed out at during this, well. Kyo is probably avoiding them. Mostly out of guilt, fear of their reaction if he were to run into them again. At least in the more immediate aftermath. He might either stay at home for a bit at first or just generally try avoid them if and when he does head out for errands and such once he is back to his usual self.

If he does see something obviously stolen, he will try figure returning it at least.]

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.]

scáthach / lancer / shadow / too many gottdang aliases | open

[scatmaam]

[ i-c - open ]

[ A winged wolf woman probably sounded like something a child would imagine as a fantasy character, but Lancer was very much the living, breathing image of it, blood red spear out and getting rough with some of the less scrupulous citizens. Ostensibly, she was there to help, to quell some of the disorder and help restore things to something a little more close to normal. But it was becoming more obvious, particularly to those that knew her, that Lancer was using well more force than was strictly necessary, the blunt end of her spear sending one looter flying away from his ill gotten goods, nearly clearing the whole street and rolling into a light post.

>Fàg An Bealach!!! A warrior's call, shouted clearly but with frustration and barely bidden rage clinging to every bit of it, twirling her spear and chasing down another group of now completely terrified rioters, very aptly calling her an "angel of death" as she barreled down on them.

Someone should... probably stop her. ]

[ ii - open ]

[ Unfortunately, that last night had only been the beginning. Each waking moment that passed for Scathach, she felt her anger continue to smolder inside of her, frustrations with her situation and the world around her all manifesting in explosive acts of rage, and often violence. She was tossing rude bar patrons through windows, shoving careless walkers out of the street with well more force than necessary, and even taking out her frustrations on local architecture, not even using her spear to leave great, ghastly looking claw marks on steel fences and posts.

When night fell again, it was at its worst, but the sedative whiskey Caster had given her was no longer working, not as it should. Bursting out in the dark from her room in Zelda's home, she'd taken to what her rage and her instincts were all telling her to do.

To hunt. And you, unfortunate you, happen to be whom she's stalking... ]

[ wildcard ]

[ pretty sparse prompts, i know, but if we talked about something not covered here or you just wanna throw me a wild bone, i am down for all of it! despite what it sounds like, scathach isn't going to be rage beasting the entire time, so if you want something less aggro, i'm up for it. contact me on discord or plurk if you need to hammer anything out! ]

i-c

[whydogs]

[She catches Lancer out of the corner of her eye, wondering what the ruckus was all about. Curiosity led her to approach and figure out what as going on and what she found was, well...

Jill had only known her recently, but she knew how strong Lancer seemed and this? This wasn't even a fight.]

Hey, come on, I think you've made your point.

[But her words fell on deaf ears.]

Lancer? Hey, anybody there?

[Still no response, and things are about to get even worse for the poor schmucks as Lancer's weapons remained turned on them.]

Woah, shit.

[No doubt they must've done something to piss her off, but they didn't deserve this.]

Stop!

[Jill ran up behind her. She knew there was no way in hell she'd be strong enough to restrain her. Instead, the bartender wrapped both arms around her friend's waist and pleaded some more.]

Please, just stop. That's enough...

wolf 🐺 ota!

[divineconfetti]

I. beast's moon
( this city has already made a monster out of him, and the moon does even more besides. he could feel it coming even before the mist had started to sink into the city streets — the push and pull of the lunar influence, and the monsters of this world are no more able to resist it than the ocean was able to resist the tides. by this point, he is familiar enough with the transformation to his more bestial form that he knows how to deal with it. he removes his prosthetic, setting it aside — it would be of no use to him, once he transforms — and simply waits. he feels no added anxiety, remembering how his mind warped the first time he had shifted completely. for the first full moon since arriving here, wolf has a Bond to settle his mind. with the distance between them, it is thin now, but it provides a clarity that gives him some additional peace of mind.

but the question is: would that be enough this time?

because when wolf changes into his lycanthropic form, it's not the one he usually takes. no, not entirely. his right eye — the one around which the pale mark of resurrection mars his skin or the duskiness of his fur — itches. then it burns. he grits sharpened teeth, growling, pawing at it with clawed fingers. and beneath the pads he can feel something odd: dry skin, pebble-like scales, and even a few sets of odd, branch-like horns stretching from the crown of his head. it's not until he uneasily crosses his house and peers into the window in the bathroom that a glint of recognition catches him.

it looks like the divine dragon. he remembers the creature, perched on top of a giant sakura tree, holding a sword with the power of lightning. wolf had fought it as he had needed to, to get its tears for his master. but why here, and why now?

there's no time to ponder over it. he is not the only one effected, and his keen ears can pick up the sounds of shouts and unrest. he leaves, departing into the city with a mind to see what was going on.

a) wolf does not care about the looting. though he didn't even need the influence of a dragon's mind to make him a bit of a hoarder when it came to his own money, he takes little stock in possessions. he lurks along the rooftops, keeping a keen eye on the groups of effected and uneffected roving the streets. it is regrettable, but it is not as dire as hurting someone. but it does open up a dangerous situation. wolf is crossing along the rooftops of a commercial street when he hears a thunderous snarl, soon followed by shouts of surprise from several of the opportunists. they had broken the window to a shop and stalked inside, only to find the owner was still there — and no longer human. they come streaming back out through the broken window; all but one, who is hurled bodily through what remains of the glass. the scent of blood, thick and cloying, fills the air. wolf stops, crouches down to the rooftop, and watches what emerges.

it is a chimera, stalking along on feline legs, shouldering through the broken glass. it looks sphinx-like, with feathered wings sprouting from its back and a face that still retained much of its human features. the eyes, however, are blank with rage, and it's that which causes wolf to leap down to the street. he lands behind several of the looters, though he barely gives them a look. he gives them a single word: ) Run. ( and so they do — or, at least, they try. they scramble, and the chimera takes a swipe at one, sending him sprawling to the cobbles. it begins to stalk towards the downed human, but wolf dashes forward, giving a low, harsh growl. the sphinx turns its head just in time to catch a face-full of claws; it screeches, turning on him with a similar attack.

wolf might not have the benefit of the prosthetic when he is in this form, but he fights fiercely. but the sphinx has an obvious size advantage on him, and the fight is a close one. the opportunity is ripe for a passer-by to interfere, or perhaps try to help the injured away from the scene. )

b) ( the smell of blood still fills the air. it's splattered on the cobblestones of the street as well, and if you follow one smeared trail into a dark alleyway, cramped with molding crates and bins, one might find hidden among the rubbish a beaten and bloodied wolf. his dusky fur is matted nearly black in places with blood, and he holds his one clawed hand to a sizable gash in his side — the largest and most noticeable source of the smell.

at the sight of a silhouette approaching, a set of yellow draconic-and-lupine eyes set on the stranger. his lips peel back to reveal a set of sheer, predatory teeth.

but he does not move. it is a warning, as is the growl that sounds in his throat. but besides this, he does nothing. the fight had taken too much out of him for him to do any more. )

II. before dust has time to settle
( as the day wore on, wolf had been patched up as best as magic and medicine could provide. he is not one to take advice for bedrest — not when there is still so much in the city that feels as though it could push it over a precipitous edge. still in his lycanthrope shape with its dragon trappings, bandanged and still faintly bloody, wolf makes it to the muster of the mirrorbound as they are given spells and instructions on what to do with the slightly maddened citizenry.

wolf knows that the lingering after-effects are not limited only to the citizens of this place. he has found himself short-tempered to a fault as the hours had worn on, and though ironclad discipline is what has kept him walking the straight-and-narrow thus far, he finds he has concerns about that lasting on well into the day.

he eyes the mirrorbound standing nearby with a slitted draconic eye, rumbling deep in his throat before asking, ) We are not immune to this frenzy. Are you prepared to use that upon whomever might need it?

( of course, wolf very well might mean himself. )

III. wildcard
( anything else! feel free to hit me up on lycanthropic or via PM if you want to discuss anything further! )

I A

[showsnopiety]

(It was in the shouts and the screams that came from the streets. Caren had been trying to get some rest-trying to, as much as she could get for all of hell breaking loose-but it had brought her to lumbering into action.

And for a few moments, she had to take to assess what was going on. A strange turnskin and...a chimera? Which started the fight? Who was defending?

Caren glanced around to see if anyone that could answer but-no one wanted to stay. So she had to make her choice.

The chimera then. She was unarmed but...

Her claws unfurled, and she turned in on newly changed legs to swipe low, a snarl in her throat.]

Iramaat

[wylderrant]

Chaos

[ It had been just another night. Had been. Then the mist had come, settling over the city and turning everything into a chaotic madhouse. Iramaat had been a little on edge anyways - the full moon was always like that. It was just another fact of life she'd been slowly adjusting to. At least she had her bond!

The complete breakdown of society that had come this evening was completely unexpected. Human, monster, witch, everyone seemed afflicted - at least partially - and despite herself Iramaat finds herself caught up in the swirl and ebb and flow. She was out to enjoy her evening, but that's gone out the window. Fortunately, she's not afflicted - or at least not much. She is a monster of course, complete with deer legs and tail and everything else, but she hasn't gone completely off of the rails.

Maybe.

When she comes upon a group of younger, lower-class types smashing windows and barging into stores she pauses and watches from across the darkened street. She turns to whomever she can find. Whether they're afflicted or not, her eyes dance with mischief. ]

You know, I'm trying to decide if I should join them. They look like they're having fun.

Damage Control

[ The morning after a bender isn't nearly as entertaining, of course. She doesn't imagine she'll get in any real trouble - she's managed to insulate herself from consequences before, after all. However, the mood of the city is notably darker and even if she's just out trying to do some shopping, she's getting dark looks and a few muttered comments. Most of which she ignores.

At least until a shopkeeper points her out and demands she leave his ship.

Iramaat is hustled out without ceremony and she's left standing on the street outside with the most indignant expression on her face. ]

That - just isn't fair. [ Her voice is a bit acidic. ]

That deserves a turn of its own. [ She is absolutely going to find someone to help her with revenge. ]

Wildcard!

[ Throw anything else under here. ]

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?"

Fionn Mac Cumhaill | ota

[gorgeously_unrestrained]

The Mist/Widespread Chaos

A
[Fionn was one of the lucky ones. Mostly. His physical form may have changed slightly, including sprouting the wings of a peregrine falcon and his eyes turning black, but most of the mental changes seem to have passed him by. He thinks. He hasn't gone feral anyway. Which means he can help maintain order. Those that have gone feral need to be stopped and he's swooping down on likely targets, especially those harrying someone else. If that someone else seems to fearful, or otherwise not a fighter type, they're getting a gentle smile.]

Are you alright? Go and hide. I'll handle this.

B
[On the other hand, if it seems like they are a capable fighter or could be helping out in some way, they're getting a different response.]

Well? Do you intend to just stand there and cower while the city collapses around you? Stand and fight.

[It comes out a little harsher than he intended. Perhaps he didn't entirely escape the mental changes.]


Damage Control(?)

[The next day it becomes obvious that the chaos of the previous night is not quite over yet. And that he indeed failed to escape the mental changes. He feels agitated, quick to anger. So while the day starts with him trying to help out the healers at the coven, it ends with him heading to the bar for a drink. But he's not the only one who is having trouble keeping his temper. Some of the locals, good and drunk, have started harassing a group of refugees. Shouting that this is their fault. Everything was fine before they got here.

It escalates into what would've been a minor scuffle. If Fionn hadn't just struck the ringleader in the head with his spear. He's had enough, and he's not listening to any of this refugees and or mirrorbound are to blame nonsense. He hadn't used the blade at least, but this is still not going to be pretty.]

I think your opinions are best kept to yourselves.

[There is very dangerous edge to his smile and the fight that ensues is rather more brutal than he would normally be in the circumstances. They are just a handful of drunk and angry men after all. Even the refugees that had been harassed are trying to diffuse the fight. Without getting too close, of course. He's hasn't exactly gone feral, but someone should probably stop him before he goes too far.]

Damage control

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker is the last person you want to ask to help defuse a situation. Given the fact he's still bordering on feral himself and more than willing to cause chaos at the drop of a hat, he's just going to make this problem worse. He's passive as he watches the fight unfold, the brutality giving him pause. It's unlike Fionn to be so cruel (that's his job, thank you). ]

Do you need some help?

[ He's without Gae Bolg, at least, so his range is limited. His barely contained aggression is a complicating factor, though. Given half a moment, he'd kill the troublemakers without so much as a thought. ]

Or do you have them handled?

Bendy | OTA

[figmentpigment]

1a. Molded into a 3D beast
Bendy doesn't trust himself to fall asleep on nights of the full moons. He's not sure he could, if he wanted to; The Demon always has an urge to prowl, even if its Bond keeps its more vicious impulses at bay. Bendy can already feel the uncomfortable yet familiar prickle of change as the light filters overhead, enough to miss the rolling in of mist.

Muscles bulge and limbs lengthen, teeth jut and extend as dark drool leaks from between them, rivulets of ooze trickles through thickening fur. It's not pretty, but he's used to it. But it keeps going, and Bendy gets out a gurgley squeak of alarm out as spines ripple out from his spine, foot-long needles quivering out of his back. Bendy falls heavily on his front arms where plates of scaley armor have begun to cover the coarse hair he's gotten used to. His whine of alarm turns to a throaty, blurbling snarl, and a sudden pressure in his pelvis precedes a new set of legs clawing their way out of its inky flesh. This isn't how it goes. The mist fills its nostrils, and the Demon shakes its head, snorting. Fear morphs, like the rest of its body. Wrong, this is wrong. Someone's doing something complicated, and confusing, and it doesn't understand, and it's frustrated, it's angry, stop it, stop it, it knows someone is doing something wrong and they need to stop it.

The Demon, plated in thick dragon armor and armed with wicked spines, roars in anguish and fury, launching itself on eight limbs at whoever may be close enough. It's not its fault stop it stop it

1b. hear him coming by his tapping feet
This is what it was meant for. A domain in chaos, upended from banal status quo and the thin barriers of reality rended beyond recognition. The Demon skulks about, climbing along the sides of buildings with its new limbs.

The mist filled its senses, carrying with it scents of all manner of beasts mingled in new and strange ways, and all laced with the thick taste of fear. It all wafted from the streets below, from beings too preoccupied with their little aimless chaos to note the skittering hunter stalking them from above.

Only a few seconds of dark, oozing droplets splattering from above gave the prey warning before the Demon pounced from above.

2. a villain out of sync
It's daytime. The Demon shudders, curled up in the open air. The dawn helped it remember himself, but he's not him, he's still it, and it shouldn't be out in the daytime, it should be gone by now. If the mist would just clear, it could be in the sun, and it could go back to being him, and it would stop being so scared and ugly and angry all the time.

On the downside, a nine-foot oozing dragon-arachne-turnskin-demon sulking around in the middle of the street is doing absolutely nothing to improve the thick tension in the air. On the upside, it's a little too intimidating for anyone to actually bother harrassing it, especially since it tends to growl at anyone who gets too close.

4. off the page and on the brink
The fading of the mist is a relief, certainly, but that doesn't mean its effects have vanished with it. Mornings after the full moons were always... difficult. His body is sore all over, cramped and ill-fitted like a too-small suit he's forced on.

Despite that, he's out in the town and trying to make things right. He's been bad, and mean, and scary. He can't seem to stop himself from all that, but at least for now he can try and clean up the mess. Bendy can be found sweeping up shattered glass and debris from assaulted storefronts, but his usual smile is paper-thin. Someone nearby moves a little too quickly, and Bendy's fur instantly bristles, and he turns on them with a squeaky growl of warning.

His eyes widen, and he puts a hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Oh. He's being bad again. He starts bowing repeatedly in attempt at desperate apology. He's just--it's been hard to--he's so sorry, please don't be mad!

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. ]