☆ 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

[belligerentwarrior]

[The smart thing would be to stay up here and continue following him from a distance, as she had been. Fang, however, was so terribly Fang, and the whisper of the moons against her nerves wasn't helping. Toeing lines was almost a hobby of hers.]

I thought you knew me better than that by now. [Either she loved problems, or problems loved her. There was little in-between with the hunter.]

[She rises, hopping to the lawn and spreading her forelimbs out in a stretch.] Lighten up, sunshine. You keep scowlin' like that and your face'll get stuck.

[fulgency]

[Hackles don't raise when she jumps down, but wings certainly do for a brief moment. When all she ends up doing is stretching, he doesn't exactly relax, but some of the excess tension dials back down a few notches. Only a few. He's watching her every move.]

Find someone else to stalk and I'm sure my mood will improve.

[belligerentwarrior]

What, I can keep an eye out for you? Full moons are bad enough when it's just us Monsters out loosin' our heads, not just the whole city.

[Her tail sways behind her in lazy motions. Movement clearly seems to be agitating him—to which degree would be a key. The Coven's paper slips are still tucked under her bangles, pulled taught against her forelimbs by her stouter fullmoon form.]

[fulgency]

[The motion of her tail doesn't inspire a reaction from him in either direction, being neither less agitated or more relaxed and receptive to her own apparent calm. Which means in some ways, this still feels very much like a stand-off and he's still waiting for the exact second this flips into something else. Trouble is, it likely won't take an overt sign of aggression from her to kick instinct into action.]

I don't need your help. I can protect what's mine well enough on my own, which I don't recall agreeing to share with you.

[belligerentwarrior]

I said you, not what you own. Don't worry your greedy little head; you've got nothin' I want, anyway.

[She doesn't mean for it to sound amused and dismissive; the combined effort of the fog and moons whisper that it's his turn to be the cub, this Witch pretending to be a Monster, acting like he knew their lot's monthly rituals. It's almost cute, watching him try to throw his weight around before a veteran.]

[fulgency]

[It's possible that at another time with more control over instincts, he'd recognize exactly that. Not that his entitlement would go anywhere, but he's never quite so full of himself that he refuses to acknowledge another's experience. He'd see her tone for what it is and regardless of the irritation it might still cause, he'd find a way to temper his response.]

[But there's little of that happening now and thus, she's left with his unchecked ego with unearned confidence as he starts emitting a low growl.]

And yet, my answer is unchanged.

[belligerentwarrior]

[Fang's posture actually brightens at that growl. She's always loved challenges, thrived in the face of them. And she's completely lucid, at this moment; it's entirely Fang when her tail swishes a little faster and her ears turn forward in excitement.]

[She rises to her feet with that soft, chuffing laugh. ]

Now, now. Don't do anything you're gonna regret in the morning.

[fulgency]

[Wings behind him flex momentarily in response to her growing excitement at the challenge.]

I'm not repeating myself another time.

[Sharp claws extend to punctuate the sentence.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[She doesn't move save for flexing one paw-hand, and adjusting the bangles tight against her arm to a more comfortable spot with the other. Subtly, she also does slip the enchanted paper into a more accessible position.]

That's a relief I'm glad to hear. You do tend to go off about the same things.

[fulgency]

[The motion itself, the flexing, doesn't escape Ozymandias' notice. It's the paper and its shifting about that he doesn't catch. He's too busy beginning to shift his weight back like a coil beginning to tighten beyond what it ought to be pushed to do.]

[There's only another split second before he lunges at her, claws first.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[Excitement jolts through her the moment he springs, electric on her nerves. Instead of trying to avoid the pounce, Fang hops forward in a spin, whipping her leg forward with the momentum; she aims between his outstretched claws at his face.]

[Fang had never been a defensive fighter, and as long as she could land the more debilitating blow, she's never cared about getting scratched up in the process.]

[fulgency]

[Scratched up she gets.]

[There isn't enough time for Ozymandias to react and stop the strike to his face, which knocks him back plenty and prevents any real damage from his claws, but they still find their mark before he's forced back. He uses his wings to quickly regain his balance with a little counterforce from their movements. There's no time for really recovering from a blow to the head, however. Ozymandias ignores any dizziness or ache and stays laser-focused on Fang.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[His claws rake across her back and hip, and it's a blessing her gamble paid off and she wasn't immediately disemboweled. But despite the lines of fire tracing her body, Fang whoops with laughter, her blood alight with adrenaline and the drums of the moons.]

[Fighting feral Monsters just wasn't the same as fighting someone with (at least some of) their wits about them. She hops from foot to foot, to regain and shift her balance; the claws on her feet digging at the street to launch her into a sprint. It's not in Fang's style to let up for a moment.]

This is once dance I know how to do, sunshine!

[Fang feints a heavy punch at his face before darting to the right, aiming for a leveraging grip on flyboy's arm or wing. Best to take him to the ground before he takes to the sky.]

[fulgency]

[Were Ozymandias' thinking a little clearer as it normally is, he'd recognize the style as being quite true to form for Fang. But now all that really flashes through his mind is several bouts with Berserkers, Servants whose singular thought is the fight and more than willing to continue assaulting their target well past what would make feasible sense for themselves.]

[Not an opponent he wants to under-estimate, which is why he's quick to protect his wing. Even when ignoring the fact he's not really capable of true flight, injury to his wing would be debilitating in an instant with how sensitive they are. So, while her feint is successful, all she's able to grab is his arm, which isn't quite as effective in dragging him down to the ground.]

[Oyzmandias follows the momentum, but much like the proverbial cat, uses it to land on his feet rather than let her drag him into a vulnerable position. He swipes at her feet with a leg, yanking his arm at the same time, in an attempt to return the favor. Unlike Fang, however, he doesn't appear to be taking any delight or enjoyment out of this.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[Unfamiliar as she was with his world, Fang might've taken offense to the world Berserker; as wild as she fought, it wasn't without strategy and extensive training. A single mistake on Gran Pulse could be the end of life, and a dead monster was a lot less dangerous than a live one; the quicker hunts ended, the better. Honestly, her style worked a lot better with her spear, but that was a pain to lug around in this form.]

[She tumbles to the ground, but like Ozymandias and the cat she was, Fang twisted with the movement to land on all fours. Her claws scratch at the street to abruptly change her vector, and Fang lunges up at him—this time with the enchanted seal in hand, aiming a slap at his torso.]

[fulgency]

[Understanding better the relentlessness of her attacks, Ozymandias knows that his decision-making has to be quick. In some regard, it means he has to adopt a bit of her own style, accepting that not every attack can be blocked or dodged, and weighing the cost/benefit of receiving a blow when that is the case.]

[The moment she hits the ground on all fours, Ozymandias braces himself with the intent of catching her and using that momentum against her to create a little space between the two of them. It's a plan that likely would have worked, had Fang not chosen that moment to hold her enchanted slip of paper. The effects of the spell are near immediate as Ozymandias' legs buckle beneath him and he swiftly crumples to the street.]

[He fights it, of course. Even though his body now feels thousands of pounds heavier than it did a moment ago and his movements are sluggish and possess the coordination of a newborn fawn, he tries to get back up. He tries and none of his limbs appear capable of holding his weight, nevermind his head is now spinning worse than it had when she struck him in the face. With unfocused eyes, he tries to find Fang again. He doesn't quite make it before consciousness leaves him and he ends up passed out a mess of limbs from his attempts to stand back up on the street.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[Fang holds at the ready when he continues to struggle; the tension only leaves her when he goes still on the street. A long breath eases out of her, and Fang's torn as to whether she's disappointed or relieved that's the end of it.]

[She crouches beside the crumpled Pharaoh, the long cuts on her back and hip protesting at the movement, and pats him on the side of the face.]

Wish I could be here for the fun of it, sunshine. [There's no telling how long he'd be out, either a few seconds or a few minutes. No sense in leaving him in the open for another fog-afflicted Monster to find. Fang loops her arms around his chest and hoists him onto her shoulders in what another world would call a fireman's carry, and starts towards his mansion.]

[He better have a clearer head after this, or she'd be in a terrible position.]

[fulgency]

[The spell is enough to keep Ozymandias out cold for several minutes, but when he begins coming to, he doesn't actually begin stirring or attempting to move around right away. He's too busy trying to push through the haze of recent unconsciousness to understand how exactly he's moving right now when he feels still so disconnected from his limbs. Slowly it becomes apparent to him that he's being carried and that's how he's moving right now.]

[It takes another handful of seconds before he's able to start using his free hand on her back and shoulder to start trying to leverage himself back upright.]

...Put me down...

[It's not a command. It's not even really a demand. More a foggy request...? Ozymandias isn't really sure how exactly he ended up here on Fang's shoulders, the moments leading up to his unconsciousness not coming to him immediately while he's still getting his bearings once more.]

[belligerentwarrior]

[The turnskin steps slow and stop, her caution returning to her. Still, he's not immediately hostile. That's good.]

Alright, alright, hold your chocobos. Can you stand?

[Regardless, Fang carefully drops to one knee, tilting to put him back on his feet—slowly, gently, and her grip stays firm in case Ozymandias starts to crumple.]

[fulgency]

[Out of pure reflex, he answers her with,]

I'm fine.

[And while he does not seems ready to crumple, his legs managing to successfully hold his weight, his head is still spinning a little. It leads to a slight sway that if she didn't keep a grip on him, it's entirely possible he could just as easily topple over.]

[Ozymandias frowns, rubbing at his head where it had connected with the ground earlier. (It's less tender and more a dull ache at this point.) Glancing around at their surroundings, he's not able to zero in on their exact location, but enough that he's not completely lost.]

[Fang, for the moment, is a little bit of a secondary thought, but he'll get caught up.]

[belligerentwarrior]

If you say so.

[Her tone's rather unconvinced. She stands, patiently waiting aside from that steadying hand. The rest of her remains loose and ready, in case his hostility returns.]