hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dazed and Confused

Entry tags:

Event Log: Dazed and Confused

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Dazed and Confused event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 24th-October 2nd
Warnings: None!

On the 24th of September, you wake up and everything seems pretty normal. You've got to head in for your shift at the guard, or at the clinic, or wherever else people go- maybe you're visiting a friend, maybe you're checking out the library, but either way as soon as you step out onto your street, you're in a foreign location.

No, you haven't been transported anywhere weird. Well, not by anything other than your own two feet. And hey, you could recognize a landmark and know your way back from there! But somehow you turn left instead of right and now everything is confusing again. It's not that the city itself is changing, but rather, it's your ability to take direction and move in the way that you think you should.

On top of all that, of course, is the strange inversion of most abilities. Everything is topsy turvy with your various powers or individual skills, so be on the lookout for some odd changes. Maybe you're usually pretty good at reasoning and now you can't think your way out of a paper bag, or maybe you have fire powers that start shooting icicles instead- either way, it's weird. Hopefully you can deal with it without injuring yourself too much, but... well, it's kind of difficult to make any guarantees when you can't even find your way to the clinic when you accidentally break something.

► This log covers September 24th-October 2nd.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you walk into the lake and drown or have some other unfortunate mishap, please let us know here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He really doesn't mean to end up here. Granted, Sans stopped assigning any real intent to his shortcuts as soon as he figured that intent didn't do a damn thing in terms of where he actually ended up. He more or less just had a central goal of getting the hell out for some reason or another.

And now he's here.

He only vaguely registers he's at the bar thanks to the way he lands on the counter with a loud clattering and tinkling of unfortunate bottles in his way as they smash unceremoniously to the floor.]

[Chris is expecting people to come through the door, not out of nowhere. So when Sans suddenly appears on the counter, along with the sounds of shattering glass, Chris gives a startled shout and whirls around to see what's going on.

Normally, the sight of Sans would not make things worse--actually the opposite, really--but after everything with Hermann that isn't the case. Instead there's a twist of fear in his chest, and although he stays where he is he's on edge to move if he has to.

But hopefully Hermann was right about whatever Sans did being an accident, and hopefully it wouldn't happen again.]

S-Sans? You okay?

[At first, Sans manages little more than a low groan of vague assent because he's - ostensibly, he's fine. He'd have to be, he'd know if he wasn't, because he'd be dead if he wasn't fine. Always nice to have those polarizations that make everything real clear cut.

He braces one hand against the countertop and tries to lever himself upright, at least into some kinda sitting position, but that's apparently a bit of a delusion, because his arm can't support him or much of anything at the moment, and simply skids harmlessly across the counter's surface.]

Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm good.

[Who's that. Who is talking. Who is here. He needs to get up and figure it out because he can't tell from timbre of voice alone at the moment, but it just feels like such a - such a massive, incredible effort and he just - he doesn't have it in him, he doesn't think. Yeah. Yeah, nah, he really doesn't.]

[Sans is obviously not good, and so Chris has a serious dilemma. What Hermann told him is ringing in his head, along with all of his own trauma-induced warning bells that are trying to get him to keep himself safe. But he also can't just ignore someone that seems as bad off as Sans does, especially when there's obviously some sort of event going on and--most likely--it isn't Sans' fault that he attacked anyone in the first place.

Okay, breathe, make a decision and do something.

He steps forward, cautiously, nerves still on edge and just waiting for everything to shift like Hermann had mentioned.]

Y-You um, don't look good. H-Here, let's um, get you off the counter so you don't fall.

[The floor's probably a lot better idea, or at least part of it not covered in broken glass anyway.]

[Uhhhhh sounds like someone he knows, maybe? Voice is familiar. C...C-something? Probably. Maybe a K-something. Sounds're the same.

Yeah. Okay. He's gotta get up. Sans tries to roll over and almost ends up dropping cleanly from counter to floor in a fall that would certainly be fatal for a guy like him, but one hand shoots out to counterbalance the graceless tumble, catches the lateral surface. He hooks one elbow over the side of the counter as a means of support.]

Havin' a little, uh, a little off day 's all. Confusion. Boy. Really does a number on ya, huh?

[Chris is ready to try to help him off the counter when he just goes and rolls off, but at least it turns out okay. So instead he just stops awkwardly a few feet away, watching Sans with a mix of concern and caution.]

Um, yeah. A-Apparently. I-I keep getting lost, but um... It seems a lot worse for you.

[That's also an invitation for Sans to explain more of what's going on, if possible.]

Yeah. Yeah, guess it is.

[Sorry, Chris, he's not talkin'. Not sayin' much of anything. Can't really focus on - Chris. Yes, that was his name. Okay. Okay. So now he knows that.]

Didn't mean to - to drop in on ya.

[He laughs weakly. He can feel himself starting to slip down the counter's side, inch by inch.]

[Okay, Sans doesn't at all seem to be being purposefully threatening, which puts Chris at a little more ease. Sure, it means absolutely nothing if his powers are going haywire or something--that's still a major danger--but it's a completely different kind of danger and one that's easily drowned out by the more pressing issue of worrying about Sans' health.]

U-Um, should I help...?

[With the counter thing. He'll let Sans stall the explanation for the moment.]

Better not.

[After the last person who tried to help got a snapped wrist for his trouble? Yeah. Nah. Not gonna do that again. If he feels things start to go pear-shaped again, he's snappin' himself on out through the nearest shortcut, improbable destination be damned.]

Things seem to be, uh, goin' a little haywire today. [He feels himself slip down another half inch. He grits his teeth a little more fiercely.] For everyone.

[Chris hesitates, not really sure that he shouldn't help despite Sans' words, but also not interested in getting attacked even accidentally. So he just stays hovering nervously nearby, ready to intervene if he looks like he needs to.

He also avoids directly mentioning anything from earlier, but--]

Yeah, I've uh, noticed. I guess it must be um, an event, but it's really soon after the last one.

Figured as much.

[Down another inch. He feels the bones of his arm start to tremble.

It broke so easily. A bit of pressure, falling on it in just the right way, and it had snapped like a twig, held at an angle askew that had been sickening, wrong, upsetting to look at.

Hah. Nope. No. He is not thinkin' about that right now.]

You, uh, you seem to be doin' all right, though.

[He nods in Chris's direction, curiously breathless for a thing without lungs.]

Yeah, I um, don't have any magic or whatever so I've just been getting lost. Took forever to find the bar.

[He's still ready to help if Sans looks like he's going to fall.]

S-So uh, is it just um... S-Some sort of teleporting that's like, on the fritz for you?

[It's another cautious probe for information, since he knows already that something more strange than teleporting is going on with Sans.]

[Perspicacious kid.

'Course, it's not like Sans didn't make it stone cold obvious, droppin' on in the way he did. If it wasn't before, it sure is now. He chuckles weakly and feels himself slide down another inch or two.]

Today, [he says slowly, dryly,] it seems like no one is endin' up where they're supposed to be.

[That's not an answer of any sort, really. Even now, he can't help but hold his cards close to the chest. Seeing as, evidently, laying them out on the table has only got him in trouble from people who ain't as familiar with the way he works.]

Edited 2016-09-26 02:42 (UTC)

[Chris hesitates, knowing what he wants to say in regards to that but unsure if he should. He should probably just say nothing, try to help Sans get back home--or wherever else--safely, and then do the same himself.

But that won't actually help or resolve anything, will it? Even with an event going on, there might be a way to mitigate potential danger in the future if they know exactly what they're dealing with.

He really, really hopes so.]

Y-Yeah, um, I know. Dr. Gottlieb showed up at my house earlier.

[...ah.

Ah.

Sans doesn't say anything for a moment. Doesn't react very much at all. He stares absently ahead and contemplates maybe getting the fuck out as he slips lower and lower until he's pretty much halfway on the floor at this point. Still keeping himself upright in a position so desultory it don't even really count as standing.]

Yeah? [he says, his tone no less neutral or cheerful than is typical for him.] And how'd that go?

Could've been better.

[Even though Chris is still being cautious, his own tone light as well, he's starting to feel a level of irritation underneath his wariness at Sans' seeming ambivalence about the subject.

It's that irritation that prompts him to go ahead and ask another question he might otherwise have held off on a bit.]

It really was an accident, right? Your powers are just freaking out?

[Yeah. Figures. He really did a number on his roomie, didn't he? Ex-roomie, he's thinkin', 'cause hell if he's goin' back there anytime soon. He's worn out that welcome. Newt extended the offer, and he did the magical equivalent of spitting on it, albeit intentionally.

He registers Chris's question distantly. Wonders idly if maybe the other guy's scared of him. That'd really take the cake, wouldn't it. That'd really just - heh, that'd be goddamn fantastic.

He laughs. There's not a shred of amusement to it.]

You really feel you gotta ask me that?

[Sans' question is one that makes Chris feel an odd mix of guilt and fear; he's pretty sure it was indeed an accident, but what if it wasn't? And even if it was, what if asking sets him off enough to prompt a purposeful attack?

No. That's not likely--he really, really hopes--and if it does happen, the now steadily returning fear isn't going to help. It's best to try and just ignore it, even though it's twisting in his chest again as he answers.]

I-I wish I didn't, but um... T-Too many bad experiences with friends not to.

[And what a sad, pathetic fact that is.]

[His hand braces against the countertop as he tries to drag himself back upright. He only ends up slipping lower until finally he just thinks, fuck it, and abandons himself to the press of gravity, lets his body slide down the counter's vertical surface in a protracted drag of clothing against wood.]

Y'know, I, uh, I kinda get that.

[His tone is even and controlled, as always. He's always had a fantastic poker face.]

But, heh. Yeah. Accident.

[The problem with a poker face is that no matter how good it is, when it's used in the wrong situation it's just as telling as any other expression. And, sure, Sans could really feel that neutral about the subject, but Chris' intuition tells him that the apparent ambivalence that had been bothering Chris before isn't real.

So he takes a deep breath and tries to still his nerves, hiding his trembling hands in his hoodie pocket as he watches Sans' change in posture.]

O-Okay. Then um, w-we need to figure out, you know. A-A way to stop it from happening again.

[Sure, there's only so much that can be done in an event, but there's still always something.]

It won't.

[For the first time, there's a deviation from the jovial, measured flatness of the words, a harder, flatter edge. Not a promise, nah. But something he's gonna hold himself to regardless, and knows he can, and knows he will.

He does not hurt people. That is not what he does. Not unless he's got a damn good reason for it, and that? That was not a reason at all.]

That isn't realistic.

[It's a cautious reminder, voice quiet, still wary but more and more truly convinced the whole thing really was an accident.]

I-If you could've controlled it before you would've, right?

[So it's more important to look for any hint as to why it happened and how to either predict it or stop it once it's started.]

[For the first time, Sans looks at Chris directly. The lights in his sockets are no different than usual - maybe a bit dilated, his skull a bit shinier with sweat, but otherwise? Otherwise he's the same lazy skeleton as always.]

Adjustment periods are always rough, pal. And now I've adjusted.

[There's some cold sense of wrongness settling in Chris' stomach, though it's more at the situation in general than caused specifically by Sans. For a moment--or several moments--he feels like he should just let the topic go and back off, but he can't; if he just ignores the blatant lie and someone gets hurt, then what?]

Y-You know that's not how this sort of thing works.

[It's fainter than his voice normally comes out, because he's having to force himself to say it instead of letting the entire subject go, but it's important.]

[He's been stammering this whole time. Anxious. It's written all over his face, the lines of his stance and his shoulders.

He's scared of him.

Well. Can you blame him, really? Nah. Sans can't, in good faith, blame the kid for bein' a little freaked out, more than a little freaked out, just based on what he's said Hermann's told him.]

And you know how it works, then?

[By all means, he almost adds acidly, educate me.

Do tell him how to control something that ain't doin' a whole lot to be controlled at the present moment. Do tell him how his own powers work. Go on. Let's hear it.]

bar, let's say after chris has already talked to hermann!

yes good

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