Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Rage event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 15th-December 20th
Warnings: None! Well, potentially rage-induced destruction and fighting and maybe a tiny bit of murder? So, nothing out of the ordinary.

December is usually a time of festive holiday cheer... unfortunately, Hadriel isn't the sort of place that respects holidays. Rage has decided that it's time she's given her due and has put on another event! Unfortunately for everyone in the city, this event means that all characters are given a particularly aggravating pet peeve that entirely sets them into a flying rage.

See someone sleeping? They're now the object of your ire. See a tall building with a bunch of windows? Suddenly, all those windows need to be smashed. Fights are breaking out with depressing regularity, and a couple of them might be severe enough to injure someone in a bad way.

Look out for your fellow prisoners in Hadriel, and do try to figure out the categorizations of each person's issue fast- falling into these cycles of anger isn't good for anyone and is bound to make someone mad if you treat them wrong. Conversely, instead you can just find someone who has the same loathing as you and let your feelings amplify one another; after all, the best sort of friendship is one that's formed by mutual hatred!

► This log covers December 15th-December 20th.
► 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 get too caught up in your feelings and start a fight only to see that the person who pissed you off was really good at fighting, or if someone blew up the building you were kinda living in, please let us know here!
► As a final note, if you were not sorted and you would like to be, then please let us know in response to this post!

Comments

sans | ota, will match format

[skelebro]

asleep all over the city; it's completely normal, everything's completely normal!

[Sans likes to thinks he's bulletproof. And he is, in a lotta ways. You throw somethin' at him and it rolls right off - he's perfected the art of the lazy smile and the deflecting parting remark, how to play up his own profound lack of action to comedic effect.

So here's somethin' about Sans you should know. Sans sleeps a whole lot. Sans wears a jacket pretty much constantly. Sans eats food right outta the cans like a horrible goblin. Sans makes a real big habit of deescalating potentially explosive situations. Sans owns a pet fennec fox and has spoken plenty of times about how he's worked with dogs back at home.

He snoozes here and there, catchin' a wink before the anger has a chance to take root in the core of him, too tired to follow up on the itch startin' to hitch its claws into his SOUL.

Have at it, folks.]

breaking windows; hey, look out! we're angry people! exploding in love!

And then he wakes up.

It takes a little while for the anger to set itself in there, boiling up in his marrow really nicely. He ain't an angry person, not by nature. Anger takes time, see, and anger takes work. Most of the time it just slip-slides right off, snow off a Snowdrake's back. 'Cept, well, it ain't goin' away this time.

And this time he gets a pretty fantastic outlet for it.

It takes him a while to figure out what it is, mind. First it manifests itself in a sorta - atypical restiveness. He gets up off the couch. He goes upstairs. He counts the windows. He goes downstairs. He counts the windows again.

He tries to go to sleep.

He can't.

It's the goddamn windows. What the hell are they even for, anyway? To let in the wonderful morning sun? Heh, right. And what're they doin' now? Compromisin' structural integrity? Lettin' people in when he don't want them in anyway?

Almost as an afterthought, Sans hefts up a frying pan and chucks it through the window. Shards of glass go pinwheeling in every which way, and he utters a short, undeniably satisfied chuckle. Heh. Yeah. Why not break every last one of these wastes of space, huh?

So that's what he sets out to do. Sometimes he don't even bother to pick up an object. He just ambles along the streets of Hadriel with his hands buried in his pockets, and a nearby object will simply lift itself up and go barrelin' up through any building with more than three windows. Hope you weren't doin' anything important inside, 'cause Sans ain't stoppin' for anybody.

breaking buildings; we're completely normal! throwing bottles at god!

[It escalates. It ain't just the windows, see. The windows are just the icing on the shit sundae. It's the whole principle of the thing. The entire structure built around the concept that there should be more than three of 'em, and can't people see there's no fucking point? Who designed these pieces of shit buildings anyway, huh? Who thought this was real important to have, fucking windows?

Sans halts in front of one building at random, his grin wide and ruthless. Then, with a low, sparking ping! his left eyesocket ignites with an amber-and-cyan flame.

The gravity in the area starts to go real screwy. The house judders on the spot, support beams being loosened, plates and appliances crashing and splintering to pieces on the ceiling, chunks of brick and mortar and stone rippin' themselves outta the walls to go soarin' through the windows with a series of spectacular crashes.

He don't stop until the entire building is reduced to rubble.

And then he meanders along on his merry way.]

breaking windows, event day 1

[infinite1up]

Sato isn't too perturbed by the first window in the house being broken. Or the second. He's lying on the weird sofa, playing Ms. Pac-man idly while he thinks about his plans.

But by the time the third window goes, it's about time to see what's going on.

He manages to duck just in time to miss the rock careening through the window he was just about to look through. There's no sign that Sans did the throwing, with his hands in his pockets, but then again there's nobody else out on the street either.

"What's going on now?" he calls down from the (broken) second floor window, quizzical.

[skelebro]

Sans is a pretty chill guy, all told. It's hard to get people to believe he's even remotely a threat, and that's all well and to the good. He prefers not bein' much of a threat at all. So he tosses Sato a cheerful wave, showin' next to no indication that he's the source of the large chunk of rubble that goes flying into yet another window in the same moment.

"Oh, nothin' much. 'Sup?"

[infinite1up]

There's no indication, but it's still suspicious, given that there's nobody else around. Even if Sans is responsible, well, it's not really a big deal, just a minor annoyance. But what prompted this all of a sudden?

"I suppose the gods have decided it's time for some property destruction," Sato says, offering an equally cheerful smile. When was it he talked to the skeleton before? Oh, right... "Some kind of magic, I expect? Maybe you would have a better idea than me about that kind of thing."

[skelebro]

He lifts his shoulders in an incremental shrug, plainly unconcerned.

"Guess so." He don't blink or look away, and then there's the loud smash and tinkle of broken glass as somethin' else gets hurled through another window downstairs. An awful lotta windows 'round here, aren't there?

"Pretty wild, right?"

[infinite1up]

"Oh, I think we've all seen worse, but it is a bit noisy. I do hope it calms down soon," he says pleasantly, but... perhaps a little pointedly. "I was trying to concentrate on a game."

breaking windows, u vandal piece of shit

[murderpotato]

[The Telltale Bachelor Pad-- sans Rhys right now, a fact that's kind of starting to worry Gren a little because Rhys left without even making coffee in the morning, he always makes the damn coffee because Gren hasn't figured out how the machine works-- has more than three windows. It's a normal-for-this-place house, of course it has more than three windows. Most houses have windows because windows are a goddamn normal thing to have, and a really fucking stupid thing to be pissed about.]

[Not like cans. Cans are a perfectly reasonable thing to be pissed about. They're stupid and whoever invented them should feel bad.]

[Gren was minding his own fucking business while trying to figure out how he was going to get rid of all this fucking canned shit that he has when the structural integrity of his window gets fucked.]

Who the fuck--

[Outside of his busted window is Sans the goddamn motherfucking font-based sasshole.]

[There is a can in his hand. Gren's fist closes around it so tightly that it pops, and then he chucks it as hard as he can at that shit-grinning motherfucker.]

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[skelebro]

[The thing about havin' 1 HP is that it makes you might hyper-aware of the things that'll kill ya. Which is, in Sans's case, most things. Even the slightest accident has the destructive potential. And his anger is composed, nicely balled-up into his SOUL, so he don't miss the whistle of an incoming object.

One second he's in Gren's sights, and the next he ain't anymore. He certainly didn't move real quick and he definitely didn't disappear - he simply ended up out of the way in time for the can to clatter harmlessly against the ground.

Sans cocks his skull in Gren's direction. It ain't hard to imagine who might'a tossed that sucker.]

Y'know, someone like you could get a job as a can-crusher.

But I hear that's just soda-pressing.

[murderpotato]

[The skeletal little shit dodges or something, and Gren's can misses its mark. That just pisses him off more, and he's got some rage building up to critical levels between this and the cans and the uncaffeination. Today is not a good day at Casa Gren, and Sans is not helping.]

[And to make things even worse, the shithole puns.]

[There's a moment where Gren's rage soars to new, hitherto unseen heights, like he's an explorer on Mt. Anger and he's just broken the cloud coverage. There's a brave new vista of sheer, unparalleled fury making his blood pressure skyrocket. Then, there's an almost zen state where one can only assume that he had so much rage to process that it tripped his rage circuit breakers, and now he's in the mental equivalent of his basement, trying to find the fuse box.]

I'm gonna fuckin' kill you.

[Completely calm, like he's talking about pretty much anything but homicide. And, hey-- it's not like he hasn't had practice at murdering people before.]

[skelebro]

Aw, gee. And it ain't even my birthday.

[Thoroughly nonplussed, Sans focuses on a bit of rubble that then soars through one of the windows of Casa Gren with point precision, all without Sans lifting a phalanx to get it to go tearin' on through. There's a loud smash - and then the musical tinkling of broken things, 'cause Sans sure as shit didn't aim to be as non-destructive as possible when it came to breakin' the window in question, and collateral damage ain't his priority.]

Asleep All Over The City

[fracturedbeauty]

As Yukari patrols the streets, he finds his first victim. Nevermind that it's a skeleton that appears to be minding it's own business. If a pile of bones can sleep, then surely it can be aware of the beauty found in being awake. He walks up to it casually, prodding a foot out to San's shoulder.

"Hey..." he says, rather even-toned and with the hint of a low growl. "I said, hey! You need to get up. Now.

The longer this thing sleeps, the more his frustration continues to grow. He gives a groan of disgust.

"I said, get. Up!"

[skelebro]

Sans is a pretty deep sleeper. He's also, uh, heavier than you might expect a skeleton to be, thanks to magic tossin' logic to the wayside for the sake of a joke. But eventually the pitch of the guy's words and the insertion of a foot against his shoulder gets Sans to crack open an eyesocket drowsily.

"Hm?" His jaw cracks in a yawn that doesn't actually open his mouth or part his wide, perpetual grin as he leans back against the wall he parked himself near. "Y'got a problem with naps?"

[fracturedbeauty]

"As a matter of fact, I do." He folds his arms, looking down at the sleepy skeleton with discontent.

"Sleep is not a necessary action. It's lazy and lacks beauty. Sleeping in the street is even more so. For whatever could be accomplished with our eyes closed? You should stand up and take action, start doing something with your life. Have you ever thought how much we could accomplish with the extra hours we use for sleep?" All of which he says with a tone as though it should be obvious.

Such a foolish skeleton. Yukari will show you the evil in your ways.

[skelebro]

Sans kinda starts tuning him out as soon as he says it's lazy. Like, uh...have you met Sans? "Lazy" is his sole trait, as far as everyone else can be concerned. His sockets hood the longer the other guy goes on, and by the time he's finished, Sans is lookin' about ready to conk out again.

"Uh-huh," he drawls without enthusiasm. "So, uh...how 'bout you go and accomplish those things right now, and leave me t'do what I wanna do here?"

Namely, nap. At great and admirable length.

coming for that jacket buddy =) (1)

[somuchlove]

[One of these days Chara was going to have to discover the joys of not giving into sudden impulses.

Today is not that day.

The Rage-induced anger had gone down to a simmer as they had managed to remove, trash or otherwise get rid of any jackets so far. At this point it mostly was just avoiding stores that had clothing in them for...well however long this lasts. Long sleeves such as Chara's own sweater didn't bother them and as long as they could get into stores with food in it they could survive until this stupid event was over.

...and then they see him. Sans. Nowadays that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. While they weren't exactly besties Chara was neutral regarding his existent in Hadriel.

But. But then again, he wore a jacket, apparently Chara's mortal enemy. And Sans was asleep. There wasn't going to be another chance like this. While they weren't going to sneak up on him with a sharp object, a plot begins to form in their mind and Chara begins to move as quietly as they can towards him.

* Chara slinks up close!]

rotten dang fang nuts

[skelebro]

[Between how frequently people have been goin' after him for takin' a snooze now and then - and really, that's just ridiculous. Everyone's entitled to a good, healthy nap or two, ain't they? - Sans is feelin' a bit more sleep-deprived than usual, and therefore not as liable to burst awake at the slightest indication that someone might be creepin' up on him.

Currently, he's sprawled on his back with his hands linked behind his head, merrily drowsing on the grass by the lake. It's a peaceful area, typically.

Typically.]

=) =)

[somuchlove]

[Oh totally, everyone is entitled to a nap and Sans can continue having his nap if he wants! Don't mind them...

Now Chara's rage towards jackets didn't always lean towards destroying them. As long as they were ruined in some way everything became Good And Fine as far as Rage went. And perhaps because of recent events Chara was feeling a bit more generous about this - although ask them and they'll deny it to hell and back.

But Sans seems to like the saying about giving kids matches always ends badly. Perhaps dye should also be added to that. Long story short, Chara found color dye and water balloons. Sans can do the math later.

Chara smiles sweetly as they stare down at the sleeping skeleton and raises a water balloon. Sans has until the quiet count of three before they drop it and dye his jacket - and probably the rest of him - in a lovely shade of purple. It comes out in a couple of washes! But still...

Purple's probably a better look for him =)]

(ง’̀-‘́)ง

[skelebro]

[Something splooshes over him and startles him outta sleep immediately. Sans lurches on the spot, takin' a moment to recognize that his, uh...bones and clothes and pretty much everything are now purple.

His first thought is that Alphys and Papyrus have taken things to the next level. His next thought is that he needs to get 'em back before this gets to be embarrassing, and then he looks up and realizes his former conjecture will have to be scrapped on account of it being - completely wrong.

He looks at Chara for a long moment, somehow managing to look mildly offended.

Then:]

What gives, kid?

[so_dark_a_road]

Curufin stops dead as he spots the strange skeletal-looking being, doing something very weird to the building, attacking it with nothing more than the power of mind or soul. The Elvish engineer is especially attentive to the fire springing up in the skeletal eye-socket. FIRE, what? Oooh, that could be. . . SO helpful. Oh yes.

"Say, would you be interested in a little collaboration to demolish the Colosseum? I already have the charges laid, but I don't have enough dynamite to make the whole circuit of the walls. Perhaps you'd be interested in a little cooperation between colleagues? Those. . . DISGUSTING WINDOWS are just BEGGING somebody to REDUCE THE WHOLE EFFING STRUCTURE TO A HEAP OF STICKS AND STONES."

Curufin scarcely looks like a sane man at this moment. His black hair is disarranged and grayed with the dust of the buildings he's already blown up. Likewise, his clothes are covered with it. He's got bloody scrapes and cuts from flying debris. His pupils are so dilated that his dark gray eyes are glittering like black diamonds, full of hatred, joy, and fury.

[skelebro]

Sans's rage, as it were, is about as lazy and half-assed as he is. He watches the last of the building crumble and turns to face the guy chattin' to him, hopin' vaguely that there's something to him that's worth stickin' around to listen to.

And hey, what d'you know? There is.

Sans grins. As opposed to the guy chattin' with him, Sans is all in all pretty composed. But he's likin' what he's hearin'.

"Buddy," says the skeleton, pleased, "you're speakin' my language."

[so_dark_a_road]

Curufin smacks his hands together and lifts jubilant fists to the heavens.

"Then let's do it!" he exclaims. "The Colosseum awaits us, EVIL WINDOWS and all."

And he hefts his pack more securely onto his shoulder and leads the way, his long Elvish legs eating up the distance across the wide, wide lawn that surrounds the huge rotunda-like building.

Once they are at the foot of the curved wall, he gazes up, considering the matter. He looks back at Sans, with a smile. "How about if we start by choosing a section of wall that is close to one whose levels I have rigged with explosives. I'll blow up that section, and you blow up the one next to it, and then we'll just proceed around the building, for as long as our explosive power lasts. Good?" (This is not in fact the most ideal plan. But in his eagerness to make the most of the limited quantity of dynamite he currently has, he has decided he'd rather demolish a few wall sections completely than try to rig the whole building and run out of supplies before he has gotten all the way around the base of the first floor.)

[skelebro]

Welp. That's a pretty surefire and easy way to make friends. Sans don't evne know this guy all that well, and he's already likin' the cut of his gib. He ambles along after with his considerably shorter legs, somehow managing to keep pace despite not movin' very fast at all.

"Can't say I walk around loaded with plastique, pal," says Sans. What, does he look like he's made of explosives? Who is he, Mettaton? "Usin' that much magic is pretty tiresome, and people keep gettin' on my case for sleepin."

Which is just wrong, by the way.

[so_dark_a_road]

"Just as well," remarks Curufin, quietly. "I don't recommend it as a way of life, even though it is mine."

He perceives the frostiness of that grin and how the light in those eyesockets has gone arctic.

"I can't disagree with you," he answers, with respect to the cost of the warrior way of life to a soul. Er, especially that kinslaying thing. "Because that is my experience. My soul is darkened by my history."

"But tell me, Sans, how it is that you know this? Is this matter of SOULS some part of your expertise, your special knowledge?" A skeleton is an ancient emblem of death and the underworld. What is the point of having such a form, except to carry out some function of the underworld?

in the future i'd prefer not moving the thread!

[skelebro]

More and more questions. Makes sense, as he himself is the one who raised 'em in the first place. He closes one eyesocket in a vaguely amused wink. Just as quick, that distance closes and it's like it weren't ever there at all.

His tone is light and conversational once more.

"Nah. All monsters got SOULs. Makes sense we all know how they function, yeah?"

Sorry! XD

[so_dark_a_road]

"Hmm," replies Curufin. Not that he's objecting to Sans' logic. Just doubting that Sans' response tells the whole story. But that is up to him, not to Curufin.

"Yes, I do believe you all have SOULS. Though I do wonder what the capitalization is for." There is humor and delight in his voice.