☆ 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

[chainveil]

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

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

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

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

Then she smells it.

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

That is undoubtably what she needs.

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

There it is. ]

...Oh, you poor thing.

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

Let me help you.

[trouvaille]

( the speed and force with which gwen had hit the wall was disorienting and she's still disoriented, which is why it's not immediately clear to her in what direction putin is growling, low, recognizing the predator's threat even when it's less immediately obvious to his mistress. gwen turns her huge eyes—larger than a human's, set above high, startlingly sharp cheekbones and a mouth full of teeth all of them needle-fine and sharp—on liliana, and it's a mistake but it's a mistake that she's primed to make, always readier to trust the obviously inhuman than their softer counterparts.

there's so much chaos, and she'd been knocked so hard, putin could be growling at anything.

(he is doing his best, but this isn't exactly the kind of circumstance he was intended to protect her in or from.) )

I'm just trying to get home, ( a little plaintively, bringing her hand up to cover her scraped arm. )

[chainveil]

[ Under any other circumstance she would take the creature's warning at face value, at least considering of silencing it properly before taking any other action. But now? She is much too transfixed on this source such a sweet scent. Her next meal.

A meal of a person.

She has yet to fully feast on another soul, having only inflected small bites in her frenzied bat form. But this is impossible to turn away from. She barely even blinks. ]

Home, of course. Then that's where we'll take you.

[ Her eyes are focused on that arm--that's where it's coming from. The fresh blood smeared across her skin makes her salivate. It takes what's left of her control to reach down, putting her cool hand on Gwen's forearm. ]

And it looks like you're injured! Tsk. Such a shame. We should deal with that first.

[trouvaille]

( it's the little things.

like: a human, in gwen's position right now, might pause at the coolness of liliana's hand. the combination of putin's increasingly obvious unease and liliana's pale coolness and intent, fixed interest. but gwen, her head ringing and the more generalized anxiety keeping her teetering on the edge of true panic that's thick and hard to think through—her skin is cool, too, the perpetual feeling of one who has only now left cold water. and vampires, where she's from,

well, they don't look like liliana vess. mostly, they look like eurotrash trainspotting rejects, bitterly complaining about not being taken seriously after the quote unquote recruitment drive that had kept their species from being completely wiped off the map and unfortunately resulted in a lot of vampires that still think acid-washed denim is, like, a thing. anyone dating further back than the fucking '80s is too smart to have been caught dead anywhere that a baby fae doted upon by apex predators could pin them down; her conception of vampire is not the impressive, pop cultural seducer. it's heroin chic without the chic. it's not a nice lady whose hand feels comfortable against her offering her help.

although it will be, after this. )

I—yeah, thanks—it's really just a scratch, I kind of—

[chainveil]

[ Just a scratch. Just a minuscule little thing that's become the focus of her entire world, at least for the moment. Is this what that damned Voldaren woman felt at one of her parties? The decidedly opulent overture of class as they feast on the blood of the living? Shadowy manors fit Liliana as much as they fit the native vampires of Innistrad. But there was one key difference--Liliana controlled dead, they were death.

At least, until now.

But her conceptual difficulties with the fact that she was no longer Death's Majesty pale in comparison to the surge of desire that shoots through her. The woman doesn't pull away and she isn't sure how long she can keep up the charade. ]

Shh.

[ She intends the hush to be soothing, but it's sharper than she might otherwise be. She lifts Gwen's forearm closer to her face, pretending to inspect the wound.

It's too dangerously close.

She can't resist--she brings her lips close enough to taste. Checking the wound for infection. Clearly...

Just her lips. A gentle press of her lips are warmer than the rest of her body as what blood she does have rushes to them in excitement. Liliana can feel her fangs growing longer in her mouth, but her lips smear the fresh blood across the other woman's skin. ]

[trouvaille]

( it's such an inane, kneejerk response, bewildered affront— )

Excuse me,

( no one has ever checked her wounds by licking them. there's always a point at which it becomes impossible to ignore the obvious, and if it isn't when someone's teeth perceptibly expand against your skin then there is no fucking helping you. vampires are not a creature that gwen is accustomed to taking particularly seriously as a threat to her, but that doesn't make her more inclined to be chewed on; as unsteady on her feet as she is, she's as likely to overbalance as not when she yanks her arm, forcefully, dragging her skin against liliana's fangs. )

[chainveil]

[ What was left of her self-control officially dies in that moment. It's too much--it's too close. She'd tried to draw it out, tried to play along. But really, there's only so much one can struggle against raw instinct to feed. On any other night she might have been able to stave off the impulse a bit longer, but the mist and the moon addles her senses. The blood is all she can smell and all she cares about. Sound itself disappears.

When Gwen yanks her arm, Liliana's pupils dilate fully to take over her irises. She hisses, her grip on the other woman's arm tighten immediately. Fangs fully descended, she bites down, attempting to sink her teeth into that tempting flesh. ]