☆ 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

[hoboagogo]

(Beginning transformation - Lucidity) (Midday, Oct. 12th.)

Until now, the full moons had been something predictable. The moons acted on a cycle, clearly mapped out, and every time transformations would flow and ebb, mirroring the tide. And just like the shoreline under the waters, their humanity would slowly erode with each successive wave. Every time, they left a little of themselves behind, the transformations just slightly more by the end of each. They're a pain, sure, but not exactly surprising after the first few. Each month, he's just that much more of a faun.

Except fauns don't have claws like a gardening fork, dark and curved and jagged. They don't have spike-like protrusions of bone at their angles, rippling up from each spinous process or the curve of a scapula or through the thick, coarse fur at the edge of their jaw. And they certainly don't have thick, crushing teeth- all prominent cuspids, almost too large for his mouth.

Especially after venturing outside and seeing the absolute mess that is Afeenglom, step one would have been checking his watch for any messages, or updates on the network. That or contacting one of his bondmates with a quick 'what the fuck'. There's that silvery, purply mist all about, which is definitely not normal.

But-- well. The huge, paddle-like paws his hands have managed to shift into since his going out into town aren't really the best for dexterity or manipulating anything. So he'd really just managed to knock the damn thing out of his hands when trying to pull it out, try and fail to catch it, and send the device skittering across the stones to lodge neatly underneath someone's porch steps.

So here's a mish-mash of parts, looking like the dumbest chimera ever: Long, splintered horns, massive furred shoulders leading down to bear-like forelimbs that claw and reach underneath the gaps of the wood, paired with thin, digitigrade legs and almost dainty looking cloven hooves. All of this, trying to shove himself underneath the steps of someone's porch, trying to reach in far enough to get the watch.

"Damn it....."


(Gone Fishin' - Full-on Ferality) (Dusk, Oct. 14th)

He'd found his way to the river Temese, led only by a restless need and a deep hunger. By now the mist had penetrated everything: body, mind, reasoning, thought-- leaving little more than a feral beast, looking more grizzly than goat, though still adorned with heavy, jagged horns and spines of hardened bone and keratin, back legs still ending in larger, sharp hooves, rather than the great paws up front.

For the most part, he'd moved carefully and slowly. Not like a stealthy predator, but rather a confident one, great, shaggy shoulders moving almost lazily as he perches by the edge of the river and just... waits.

And maybe he could be passed by unnoticed, if it weren't for the way he suddenly lunges at the shoreline of the river- the splash is punctuated by the screech of a native merrow, caught by the tail in thick, powerful jaws, and from there it's a flurry of water splashing and Shinjiro snarling and the merrow flailing and clawing as it's dragged up towards the shore, every cut landed by the other monster's sharp nails simply ignored as he continues dragging the merrow away from the water, as though looking for a better place to kill and eat it.


[Let me know if you want a specific starter or prompt! Hit me up at soozaphone or at Soozaphone#3966 on the disco if you want me to write you something! I'm happy to have shinjiro anywhere on the spectrum from "mentally/physically as normal as possible in aef" to "raging bearmonster" so just hit me up!!]

gone fishin

[proficience]

Having had encountered the dark embrace of death and somehow lived to tell the tale, Dazai has somehow not learned his lesson in terms of going outside. He should be in his home, he should be doing anything but wandering in the dead of night, but --

He's doing just that. The screech he hears as he flutters near the river is enough to send him down to the ground with a hefty thud of his feet against the dirt, and he makes his way behind a tree to peer at the scene without being witnessed.

Though, as he watches this creature drag someone away, he lets out a sharp breath.

He might be noticed.

But, at this point, the smell of the blood coming off of the body is enough to motivate him to ignore the risks and leave the comfort of that tree to wander ahead.

"That looks like it might be too much for you, you know."

[hoboagogo]

The scent of death- but not quite decay- doesn't go unnoticed. Something more tenebrous and fluid, so much different from the raw metallic heat of the scales in his mouth, of the blood where it would seep out where the thick canines had managed to wedge between the layers of scale and into the flesh below. The man approaches, eyes front and forward like another predator, and Shinjiro snorts, ignoring the repeated screeching and scrabbling of the merrow in his mouth, the begs for help towards Dazai, the frantic flailing.

He pauses, cautious. Not quite wary. But it's enough for him to let his mouth fall open and let his catch tumble to the street. He's not cognizant enough to think that the tail could shift to legs, that they may take the chance to flee while he stares down the competitor for his kill.

Instead he takes a step over it, protective of 'his' catch, and starts a low rumble deep in his chest. It's not quite a growl-- there's too much that sounds like it could be voice to it, that pitches up on occasion like something like a bleat to juxtapose with the deep warning noise, giving it a clashing mish-mash of sounds.

Lucidity

[horkbajir]

The mist hasn't taken full effect on Toby yet. She feels kind of... bad, but hungry enough that she's walking out on things she knows she should do to get something to eat, and there's an oily slickness to her rough, scaly hide. Clearly this is the best time to meet someone.

Yes, that's a chimera all right. Toby slows. She's not happy about prioritizing her own needs right now, isn't sure if that's a strength or a weakness on a day like today. Regardless she's going to have to eat. But she'll feel better about herself if she pauses.

"Did you lose something?"

[hoboagogo]

"Huh? Oh, yeah--"

It takes a second for him to figure out how to back up with the different bend to his legs, hooves clattering slightly as he wriggles his right arm and head back from underneath the porch. (He's managed to accidentally dislodge the corner of one of the boards. Not tremendously, but just raised up enough that someone may eventually trip. Good job.)

He shakes a cobweb from his hair, reaching up to try and dust off his horns as he finally turns to the one speaking to him.

"I dropped my-- uh."

He was not expecting a massive.... scaled... thing to be the one speaking to him. A creature of leathery skin (scales?) and sharp blades that put his own newfound spiny protrusions to shame.

In his defense, he only pauses for a moment, before accepting her as some sort of dragon, and gesturing under the porch. "Knocked my watch under there. I'm not too used to this 'no thumbs' thing."

[horkbajir]

It's a common assumption. She looks somewhat out of place in Aefenglom, but not to the point where people can't comfortably slot her as something local. Full-form Dragons do exist here, after all.

"That's... This is like a bad full moons, but that isn't until tonight," she says in her deep, gravelly voice. In the distance there's a bull-like bellow of outrage followed by barking. "I don't know what's going on. But - all right. Can you see the watch?"

[hoboagogo]

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

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

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

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

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

[horkbajir]

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

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

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

[hoboagogo]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[horkbajir]

A relatively short stick, Toby thinks. And thick. Maybe something to use with both... paws. She rises up (and up) back to her full height of close to seven feet. The city is seriously lacking in what she would consider real trees; what it mostly has instead is small things penned in by brick and cobblestone, and saplings with bars around them like bewildering cages. If she ate anything more than some twigs from one the shock would kill it.

"I don't. I told the refugees about the full moons, since they weren't affected by them in Dorchacht, but just now the effect shouldn't be very strong, even." She turns her horned head, looks back in that direction, though it's too far for her to see the neighborhood for the displaced Monsters. "If it were just them I would wonder if that's what happens if one avoids the moons for too long, or is some other spell placed on them. But then there is this fog, too."

It has an unpleasant feel. Toby rubs a long hand against her upper arm and has the impression that there's slime on it. She grimaces.

[hoboagogo]

Man, Dorcharcht. That was another headache that Shinjiro hadn't thought of, since he'd kept himself out of that whole mess. He vaguely knew that they had brought people back with them, but not any specifics. He finally gives up looking for a stick knocked down by a storm or something and approaches one of the thin trees by the sidewalk.

"Man, shit. They're in for a hell of a time. Especially since I bet they don't got any bonds." He doesn't sound too personally concerned about it, though. Just because.. well... that's not his problem. He's not taking any responsibility for that whole mess.

"The fog's new, so I'd say that's pretty likely." A pause, and he reaches up to curl both paws over one of the thin branches, tugging them towards himself. And, of course, it bends easily enough, but doesn't snap. He'll just... keep working at that. Tugging it towards himself, putting a foot on the trunk of the tree for leverage.

"Probably some seasonal bullshit no one told us about. Makes it kick in early or something. You had any weirdness going on?" Because Toby certainly looks cohesive enough. All her parts look like they make sense with each other, at least, to Shinjiro's limited understanding.

[horkbajir]

"Few do, and almost none with Witches," Toby rumbles. Unlike him she's definitely concerned on a personal level. Their situation and that of her people are similar enough that helping them quiets the little voice in her head that's always frustrated about being so far from the problems that have loomed so large in her life.

The little voice is back now saying she should at least be there, but it's not enough, she's going to have to leave and feed. Feed? Eat, rather. Toby has the lurking sense of something being increasingly wrong with her and it's going to be better if she's further away. It's clouding her thoughts, usually so quick.

She can't see it, but the points of her beak have been slowly going to a spreading yellow and then to red, like leaves turning colors. There's a sheen to her rough hide like a coat of oil. It's not very advanced yet.

"I don't know," she says shortly, and belatedly understands what he's trying to do and approaches to drive a blade into the sad caged sapling at the point where the bend is strongest. Easier on the hopeless thing than being wrenched at.

wildcard!!!!

[usurpers]

[ eren’s been followed by a variety of beasts at this point. some for territory invasion, others because rage was the only thing on their mind enough to want to tear at anything that moved— and then you have the monsters that are still just a little clear headed to know a dragon where they see one, avoiding his space and keeping most of the peace where he roamed.

fright night was where eren walks around more. too many people getting caught in crossfires and entanglements, too many accidents and regrets when the moons are gone. he’ll help who he can, and has aided a handful on his way to the riverside.

there is just a huge ass bear-goat stalking him from afar, he knows because he smells it, tastes it with each tongue flick (can’t say it wasn’t a completely foreign smell— he’s felt it somewhere before, and it hasn’t been too long). the pet dragon, dawning plenty more scales than his usual form takes continues to walk on his two digitigrade legs with the balance and ease of a veteran monster. you could say he’s taking the presence rather calmly,

eren would say he’s leading him on. ]

lets GO

[hoboagogo]

[He's never been a stealthy person.

Even before, back home- while he was entirely capable of staying out of sight or remaining unnoticed, he wasn't exactly sneaky. Creeping up silently wasn't exactly in his wheelhouse. So of course now, the best that he'd become in the shimmering mist blanketing all of Aefenglom, of course that wouldn't be the case either.

But at least now, he doesn't even care.

The creature smells like another predator- something confident and unafraid, a threat to the territory. So of course he's ambling along behind him, keeping a steady pace of growing closer to the reptilian man. The large paw pads are quiet enough, though he doesn't seem bothered by the occasional rattle of a loose stone, or the scraping noise of large claws brushing the streets as he starts moving quicker, building up speed into something more like a run.

And, when he gets close enough? Rumbling deeply as he rears up on back legs and tries to headbutt into the poor chill dragon just trying to go home or whatever Eren is doing.]

SHOVES UP SLEEVES

[usurpers]

[ if zachary’s head butting was a reminder to go by, eren would be fleeing from this. last time he tried butting heads with a ram (or part ram), he got knocked out. severely. counting, his horns were still growing, and the rest of his body was young, still undergoing change different from monster extensions.

but here he is now, months and year(s??) after that where he may be able to stand a chance. when the bear-goat stands, eren leans back to do the same, throwing his head down and exposing his granite horns into impact. it’s thick, the hit comes with the crackling of keratin scraping against each other, and he makes an effort of tangling the curve of his into the other monster’s. he doesn’t want them to separate so quickly. ]

This isn’t your space, is it? [ the dragon goads him purposefully. try harder than that, he conveys through a brilliant shine of scales burning with color and body language that may say: i’m about to destroy this man’s career and his territory. ]

[hoboagogo]

[Just as desired, their horns lock up, all hard points scraping and tines tangling, leaving their foreheads only centimeters apart and neither able to pull back from it. Shinjiro's breath is a sort of rasping huff as he twists his head and neck and shoulders, as though to either break free or use his weight to drag the other beast down.

It's questionably effective when Eren is all tall muscular limbs and scales himself.

But the threat of such a brilliant display isn't lost on him, despite all suggestions that words are meaningless in the air. The tone carries, the cocky sort of confidence that speaks of someone unwilling to back down, of seeing this conflict through. Again, he thrashes at the locking of their horns, a large paw coming up to swipe at anything he can reach with another enraged noise.

Everything is simple and primal to him right now: With the combination of this ferality, the full moon, the rutting season, everything is about territory and dominance and food supply, assuring all of those and destroying anything that may threaten it.]

[usurpers]

[ a dragon's strength was no laughing matter, and eren manages— he balances every throw of weight with his own, digging his toes into the earth and hurling forward against the little space between them that they'd possibly not fill with their horns in the way. it wasn't any different from clinching. eren holds his arm against his face to protect himself against the powerful thud of a paw, biding the impact and taking the dangerous raking of claws over his limbs as a sign that now might be a very good time to make an effort into undoing their tangle.

he's bringing out the outrage. that's just what he wants for big ol' pooh. ]

You're just going to let me waltz around here? [ words may not be clear, but meaning is as much as the last taunt, and displays still run high on repeat. in a snap, eren manages to pull back and free himself, snapping his tail sideways to incite the bear more than truly hurt him. eren can't shake off the scent that seems familiar, so he won't do anything unnecessary.

with a few steps back, he just wants shinjiro to bolt for him. ]

fite me - aka gone fishin

[battlebound]

Steak's (new, admittedly) curiosity about the mist is secondary to the actual concern of everything going on with the people affected. The idea of finding the source tugs at his mind vaguely, quickly disappearing under one person looting or another person turning feral.

The river doesn't even offer him a moment's respite, the sounds of claws and — not quite fighting, too clearly one sided and quick to be one — violence hitting his ears before he's even taken a handful of steps.

He exhales, the sound almost stereotypically bullish, and his hands go back to his blades, red eyes slowly scanning the rapidly darkening horizon.

...A bear? Not quite. His fingers tighten around the hilts of his swords, the weight of his armour comforting, almost soothing, as he watches, waiting for the monster to raise its head, to notice him.

Is there something left inside this being, are they a human turned and hating it, or will he simply have to slay it?

/puts up dukes

[hoboagogo]

The merrow finally manages to twist and turn enough to reach at his face with a sharp claw, which gets a grumble of annoyance and an opening of jaws to let it free to twist away and (hopefully) flop back over into the water.

But by then, there's something else in front of him. Something else with horns and a confusing scent, and that's enough to drag his attention away. It's either a threat to his territory or to him, or something that could be torn apart and eaten, and right now, there's not much distinction between the three.

He shakes his head, his own horns front and center, in something that might be something of a territorial display, especially as he steps between Steak and the river, something he's clearly claimed as his own hunting grounds and food source. Rather than speak, he lets out a sound halfway between a growl and a bray in warning, even as he inches closer. Because despite the horns, this creature in front of him looks small and tender, smells like a feast, if one could manage to crack the hard shell its body. And that's enough to lure in his attention, despite the dangerous looking blades at his side.

[battlebound]

As far as Steak is concerned, the shift is a sign he has a battle to fight. There's no backing down now, despite the warning, despite the fact that he knows by now that something in this world prevents him using his abilities to the fullest.

No shield. Just himself and his swords.

... Well, he always did prefer to face things straight on. His brows draw together, jaw tight as he slides both swords out of their sheathes, rushing forward for the first strike of blades against monster.

"Let's go!" Whoever this is, whatever it may be, he'll come out on top.