hadrielmods: (Default)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ ([personal profile] hadrielmods) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs2016-12-15 08:22 am

Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

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!
circumitus: (teaser? blood from knife wound.)

Rey | OTA

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-16 06:36 pm (UTC)(link)
I. 15th-19th (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

A lack of sleep often poses very little deterrent to Rey's usual routine. She never slept that much, for one thing, and beds were never her favorite piece of furniture anyway.

So it should come as little surprise to some to find the occasional bonfire throughout the city, mostly consisting of mattresses and bed sets. More specifically, she can be seen outside her house on the First Spiral, standing over a flaming pile as she feeds more pieces of broken up wood to the flames. This becomes a repeat incident throughout the next few days.

For whatever reason, should one find respite anywhere in the open, taking a nap, they will be kicked awake by an angry tank-woman, yelling insults and profanities: "WAKE UP, FUCKCHOP. IF YOU DON'T GET OFF YOUR USELESS HIND RIGHT NOW, THIS BOOT IS GOING UP YOUR ASS SO HARD AM GOING TO WEAR YOU LIKE A FUCKING CLOG."

Sometimes, you might even find yourself woken up in the middle of the night, being squirted with a spray bottle. Or mustard and/or hot sauce being shot into your open, snoring mouth by some intruder that managed to sneak in through a window or a lockpicked door.

Either way, you're not going to have a good time.

II. 20th (Crash and Burn)

Can't sleep. Won't sleep. Never sleep.

Even when her eyelids are so heavy they might as well be made of stone, Rey refuses. Just flat out will not. Doesn't close her eyes for even a second longer than to blink.

The universe has become a very strange place. Little things like people yelling is but a garbled joke. Their anger somehow humorous, no matter what it is they're furious about.

She paces around the city sometimes, picking at her fingernails or scratching her forehead irritably. Her eyes are darker than they've ever been, skin paler. Not hungry; can't eat. Stomach roiling, anyway.

At some points, she stares for no reason. Be it a location or a person, she gapes blankly as though peering down an empty tunnel with no discernible end in sight. She laughs at nothing, before falling silent before being sucked into a thoughtless void. Exhaustion has trumped all anger, warping her fury into something more comical.

What more, it has been days since she has come home, and she doesn't seem to linger in one place for very long. Rey may as well be sleepwalking, without the actual relief that comes with the sleeping part.
unitas: (▸stay away)


[personal profile] unitas 2016-12-16 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Sharon may not hold Rey in high favor any longer but she can't deny the strange wave of delight as the cybernetic woman feeds pieces of a bed to flames; it seems like they had very similar ideas on how to handle this new rage towards sleep and the things most associated with it.

She says nothing as she approaches the fire, adding to it a handful of pillows she'd found in the stores. For real, fuck sleep. Fuck pillows and beds and 1000 count sheets and all that stupid shit.
circumitus: and me reduced to ash. (the hazards of love)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-17 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
Right now, Rey's anger against the totally normal and mortal act of slumber trumps any verbal offense Sharon could have committed. She's awake, for one thing, being a perfectly productive member of Hadriel society by offering contributions of pillows.

Even then, she doesn't cast her gaze away from the growing fire, now fed by useless cloth that no one has any business needing. Yes. That'll show everyone how it's done. When Rey exhales, a puff of smoke escapes her mouth. Almost as though she is smoking, but with no active cigarette on hand.

"Needs more than that," she says aloud, picking up and tossing in the fancy bedsheeds Hope had gifted her for killing a whole lot of shit. It was still in its original package, having never been opened.
unitas: (▸samael)

[personal profile] unitas 2016-12-19 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"I can check the other shops," Sharon offers. She had only strolled through one of the various shops around town, grabbing the first (and fluffiest) of things she'd seen, and immediately migrated towards the rising smoke. Smoke equals fire and pillows burn oh-so-quickly,"I bet there are more bedsheets or fucking duvet covers out there somewhere."

And, seeing as she was never a fan of the duvet cover and all its thick bounty, burning a couple of them sounds like a damn near enjoyable thing given her lack sleep.
circumitus: Captain Morgan didnt let me down when i stand up it feels like the world is trying to hand me rainbows. (i hate your face)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-29 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
Fucking duvets. With their soft fluffiness and silent 'T' in its French spelling. Just the word alone makes Rey's blood go hot.

In fact, she is hot. And in the literal sense. Her skin is like a sweltering iron, heatwaves rippling in the air around her. It's no mystery as to where the fire had come from.

"Mm. Had plans of doing something like that as well," she says lowly, her eyes not leaving the curling plastic as it melts away within the flames. The smell is just about as awful as one could expect.
unitas: (▸become one)

[personal profile] unitas 2016-12-29 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
The scent of burnt plastic is acrid and Sharon's nose wrinkles, tasting it on the very back of her tongue. It makes her stomach curl in on itself despite the giddy satisfaction she gets from watching the items burn. As they melt away, she turns her attention to Rey, watches her watch the fire.

The other woman looks as if she could use a dip in a pool, the heat coming off her physical. Sharon has control over fire, but it clearly does not work the same way Rey's ability does.

"You all right?" She finally asks. For all the rage in her chest, she can't press back the curious worry.
circumitus: (goddammit you're a loose cannon)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-30 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
There is a moment where her mind just blanks.

After spending days already on little rest before the anger had settled in, the sleeplessness has its toll, even on something like her. Of course, she had to feel tired back then. Had to eat. Whether or not she was meant to enjoy these things, it didn't matter, so long as she got to play human during those years.

What the fuck do you care? is what Rey would have asked before all of this. But she's found that the resentment she had towards Sharon is by far overpowered by her irritation against one's basic for sleep. She doesn't know why it pisses her off so much -- it just does.

Winking in and out of the present, Rey sways, then righting herself again. Shaking her head. Blinking slowly through her bleary vision of the warm fire.

"Am fine," she quips in return.
unitas: (▸samael)

[personal profile] unitas 2017-01-03 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"You look like you're ready to catch fire," She points out, slightly slurred, though the words topple over ring in her head as well. Rey doesn't need sleep, she's functioning perfectly normally and doing things that are also perfectly normal, so she couldn't possibly be ready to collapse from sleep exhaustion. She's one of the good ones—the smart ones that knows sleep is just a waste of their time.

The rage she may feel on the subject doesn't feel entirely unjustified for Sharon; her childhood had been plagued with nightmares, and sleep was rarely ever restful, even on medication. She's never enjoyed sleep, but she's never hated it.

But hates it now she does. Fucking Rage.
circumitus: ...it got messy. (i did a shot of seamonkeys)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-01-05 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
It isn't hard to catch that slur. Between the way Sharon holds herself and her likewise apparent grudge against sleeptime comforts, Rey can assume that they're in the same boat.

Rey just makes a rather unflattering snort at Sharon's comment, though.

"Am not afraid of catching fire. Hell, fire should be afraid of me."

She'll kick fire's ass, goddammit.
mismanagement: (013)


[personal profile] mismanagement 2016-12-17 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
It's passed two in the morning and if the paperwork had been done, Maketh would have bene back in her apartment and sleeping in her own bed. Unfortunately she ran out of coffee before finishing up the reports and nature - along with the effects of repeated all-nights - have taken their toll. Maketh hunched over her desk, head pillowed in her arms, when she gets a rude awakening.

Anyone with slower reflexes would have found themselves punched in the face for their trouble. Maketh rears back with a curse, grabbing for her knife. The chair goes flying and she ends up on her ass, flat on the floor.

Maketh doesn't handle it eloquently.

"You better have a damn good reason for that or I will make you fucking suffer!"
circumitus: Your first mistake was not throwing your beer at the RA and running. (i literally hate you so fucking much)

so late i'm sorry

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-26 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
Did she have a good reason?

Well, no. Not if you asked any sane person. But Rey isn't particularly sane right now. Especially not when the mere sight of someone catching a few z's in her presence sends her into such a blind rage that all she can see is red.

And then she sees Maketh. On the floor. Rather than asking her if she's all right, Rey just looms over the woman, hands folded over her chest and a fire in her eyes.

"You mean like how you need a good reason to get some rack time like a useless flump with nothing better to do?"
mismanagement: (003)

no worries!

[personal profile] mismanagement 2016-12-26 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
Maketh rights herself with a snarled curse, straining vainly to smooth out any wrinkles in her uniform. It's in a horrible disarray, not at all presentable for inspection. "What--? I have been on duty for--for over twenty hours!"

Much as she'd like it, humans can't go that long without sleep.

Maketh lifts her chin, eyes narrowed tight. Her brain is still fuzzy. Not everything is making sense. "What do you want, Rey?"
circumitus: If you can't drink cheep beer and whiskey with me, I don't want you. (fuck it)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-26 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Only twenty hours?" Rey spits out as if Maketh just admitted to taking the whole day off. "People are breaking buildings and yelling at fish and you think this is the time to be sleeping?"

Honestly, twenty hours is nothing! But that's coming from someone who was built to last in many ways -- and that includes being able to effectively function with minimum shut-eye.
mismanagement: (004)

[personal profile] mismanagement 2016-12-26 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Maketh puts her hands on her hips, glaring. "You are being ridiculous! Do you have anything that requires my attention or not?"
circumitus: She was stuck there, we simply exchanged rides. (it's not like i paid for sex)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-29 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
"Just told you!"

Yes, because broken buildings and verbally abused fish is something that totally requires militant attention.

Oddly, though, now that Maketh is awake, whatever it was that made Rey so furious in the first place seems to be subsiding. The tension in her shoulders ease, bringing her hand to her forehead with a deep exhale.
mismanagement: (013)

[personal profile] mismanagement 2016-12-29 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
Maketh snarls a curse under her breath, throwing her hands up. "Make sense. What, exactly, is wrong?"
circumitus: Your first mistake was not throwing your beer at the RA and running. (i literally hate you so fucking much)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-12-30 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
She clenches her jaw, trying not to even think about sleep, or about the lateness of the hour and how many other people must be in their beds right now. Doing nothing. The assholes.

"Nothing," Rey says between her teeth, turning towards the front doors of the building. "Forget it. Do whatever you want."

(Before she changes her mind.)
mismanagement: (004)

[personal profile] mismanagement 2016-12-30 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Maketh closes her eyes and counts until she's sure - very sure - that she won't yell. "Come back when you feel like making sense."