Event log: Who What Where Wendigo

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the wendigo event!
What: The accidental-cannibalism-turned-horrifying-monster event that is the Who What Where Wendigo event!
Where: All around the city
When: Feb 14th-March 1st
Warnings: Cannibalism, body horror, evil monsters lurking around.

Don't forget to check up on the Wendigo Guide that Ami posted!

On February 14th, Rage and Fear decide to give Hope a little bit of help taking care of the residents of Hadriel - they'll provide some food for awhile. How nice! Except, of course, that there's an extra ingredient in this food. A can of beef stew? Yeah... that might not be beef. But hey, it still tastes pretty good! Unfortunately, some spirits slipped through the Door last time it opened, and they're ready to possess anyone who participates in cannibalism - even if they don't know it.

Anyone who eats the provided meat will be possessed by a wendigo spirit. Over the course of twelve days, they will transform into a monster that feels little but rage and hunger. While at first it can be explained away easily enough (people are super annoying, and isn't everyone a little hungry most of the time?), by February 18th, wendigo transformations are impossible to ignore. A few days after, on February 22nd, the anger and cravings of the wendigo spirit will overcome all other emotions, and possessed characters may begin hunting.

The physical and mental transformation will be complete by February 26th. The possessed characters will have lost themselves completely at that point. While physical healing (done by a character with Hope's blessing or another healing ability) can turn back the physical and some mental effects, they will remain possessed until death or until Hope removes the wendigo spirit - which can only be done on the altar of Hope's temple. So have fun dragging your angry, possessed friends there!

On March 1st, Rage does Hope a solid (because she feels sort of bad) and kills all remaining wendigos. Upon revival, the spirit will be gone and the character will be fully recovered. Hopefully no one holds what they did while possessed against them!

► This log covers February 14th-March 1st.
► 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!
► Please report any character deaths right here!

Comments

february 27th

[sparkler]

[It has not been a good week.

Well, really, it's not been a good few months, but this is just altogether worse, a whole new level of unpleasant. Eating human flesh, turning people into monsters - it's sick, it's deeply unsettling, and it should not have happened to any of them. Only it did. It did, and they weren't able to help Cecily before it was too late.

Or maybe it's not too late. Dorian is looking for her, he's prepared for what needs to be done. What he wants is to find some way to restrain her, to get her to Hope's temple, get her healed properly. He knows that isn't likely. He knows that it'll probably go a different way, that he'll have to use his magic to end things.

He doesn't like that thought at all, but he has reluctantly accepted it. Still, the first thing to do is find her, and so when he hears that shriek - bone-jarring, growing familiar - he turns, holding his staff. Hoping it's her, but also hoping it's not. He's not sure he's ready for this.]

Cecily?

[closerift]

[ She hadn't meant to eat it, of course. None of them had known until it was far beyond their abilities to do anything. Even a chance meeting with a stranger, a healer, had only delayed the transformation. When she'd first expressed her fears to them, she had been sure, in the back of her mind, that they would find a way to reverse it. That's just what they, the Inquisition did. They found impossible solutions to impossible problems.

Except. Except the healing hadn't worked and she'd been forced to leave for fear of hurting the others, or worse. Is it contagious? Her head had been fuzzy when she'd departed.

It isn't, now that she's returned. She sees Dorain, but barely. Subtle movements. Could be prey, could be another wendigo. Could be nothing. She breathes deeply, mouth parted, jagged teeth bared.

"Cecily?" The word is foreign, but spoken aloud by, yes, prey. She cocks her head, waiting. He knows she's here, there's no point trying to lure him anywhere. He knows.

She leaps down, spider-like on all fours, frozen still as she waits for him to move again. She can hear breathing, slight movements. Hunger gnaws at her, driving her on, and her mouth opens wider, expectant.

When he makes a more definitive move, she'll strike. ]

[sparkler]

[He sees her then, and freezes. The creatures have difficulty seeing without movement, he remembers being told that, and so far it's seemed to be true. He isn't afraid of a fight - Dorian hasn't been afraid of a fight in a long time - but he's not sure he's ready for this one. Cecily is a friend, one of the closest that he's ever had, and one of the only ones he has. He doesn't want to do this.

But it needs to be done. He knows that. Talking to her isn't going to do anything. Even fighting her isn't really going to do anything, except draw things out, get them both hurt. What he needs to do is drag her to the temple, get her healed.

But his magic is not exactly helpful for that sort of thing. Maybe if he had more time, if he could set a trap and tempt her into it, but they don't have time. She can't be allowed to run wild.

He raises his staff, then, accepting that a fight is inevitable, and begins by casting a barrier.]

[closerift]

[ She loses him. He stops moving and she freezes, a pale statue with wide, blind eyes. The wendigo looks stiffly back and forth, head twitching one way and then another, before it scrambles a little in one direction and makes a low, rattling growl. When the barrier goes up, she figures that this is her best chance (and what's the worst that can happen if she's wrong)? Cecily leaps, but the flash is solid and painful when her lithe body slams into it. Confusion - why wasn't it squishy and weak? The wendigo falls to the side in a mess of long limbs but scrambles back onto two legs, roaring angrily.

Pain! Its thick skin keeps it from any real injury, but indignation flares up. There's something there, but it may not be edible. Not alive. It flashed, but it was unmoving. She goes still again, hissing softly, waiting to see if there really isn't anyone there, after all. ]

[sparkler]

[It's hard to watch. It's hard to watch and know this is his friend, someone he cares for deeply, who has become this thing that is nothing like her. The wendigos aren't mindless, he's seen enough of them to know that, but they're not human, either, and they retain almost nothing of the people they once were.

This isn't what she would want for herself. He knows that much, at least, which makes it easier. Not easy, never that, but easier, a little.

The barrier holds, and he's grateful for that. He moves then, enough to get her attention, enough so she won't run off.

Then Dorian casts another spell - a ball of fire, this time, perhaps weaker than it would usually be. It's difficult when your heart isn't in it, but it should injure nonetheless. If it hits.]

[closerift]

[ She'd fought for a while. Having never been possessed, it was an overwhelmingly terrifying experience to have something like Rage's influence, but much worse, settle over her. It seeped into her system like a taint, taking her body and mind gradually, and certainly not quickly enough to spare her the anguish of it all. She'd left after the healing hadn't worked and had spent the final days of the transformation alone to keep the others safe for as long as she could. It took all her willpower not to return, both because of the spirit of the wendigo and its hunger urging her back and because of the intense lonliness and fear as she waited it out.

The wendigo won, in the end, and she'd still posed a threat to her closest friends in Hadriel. Dorian is right in this thinking, though, that she would prefer death to life as a monster. Really, she should have taken action to eliminate the threat before she lost her mind completely, but she'd been so afraid.

Not now, though. She sees the movement and springs, like a snake striking out, and shoots through part of the fireball. She shrieks in pain, again tumbling to the ground, but with a much less graceful landing. It certainly does injure, melting away some of the strength of its skin. Cecily, a mess of long limbs, flails enough to put out some of the lingering flames, but the damage lasts. Sensing greater danger, she backs up on all fours, eyeing him warily. Is it worth the meal? Can she ignore the angry pangs of hunger, find some safer prey?

In the end, the milky eyes linger on his form for a few seconds before she makes to dart away, at least to reassess and try again. ]

[sparkler]

[And that at least seems to be enough proof that fire is effective, or will at least be effective against her. It's not comforting to know that, exactly, but it is necessary.

Dorian doesn't want to do this, but he's not going to fail. What he wants doesn't really enter into it, after all. What matters is what needs to be done, and Cecily needs to be taken care of, one way or another. She turns to run, and Dorian knows he can't allow that. If he lets her go now, she'll hurt someone. She might already have. It doesn't matter that part of him would like to let her go, that if there were any chance that would help, he'd do it.

He knows it wouldn't. So he casts a wall of fire in her path, something to drive her back toward him or at least to weaken her if she goes through it. Then he'll be able to catch up, and - do something.]

[closerift]

[ Yes, the fire is the largest, perhaps only real danger to the blinded monsters. Cecily darts away, but the flames crop up in a long and perilous line in front of her, causing her to come to a sharp stop. Lucky for their dexterity, or she might have tumbled straight into the wall that Dorian conjured. Instead, she whips around, baring her teeth again, hissing furiously at the man who would cost her a meal. Cost the spirit a functional vessel.

What else can she do? If she darts away to get around the towering fire, he'll likely strike her in the back. No, her wild anger compels her back toward him, leaping with razor-sharp claws outstretched to tear through the skin of the persistent prey. There's a fair chance he'll still attack, or that the strange fortification will throw her back, again, but it's slightly better than the alternative. ]

[sparkler]

[His barrier sputters out, nearly at the end of its strength already and unable to withstand another attack. Dorian scrambles back, wishing for an ally, Rainier or Cullen or someone with a shield, but he'll just have to make do. Her claws scrape his arm, tearing his clothing and clawing a red streak down his forearm. Blood wells to the surface but Dorian ignores it. There'll be time for that when the battle's over.

He casts another barrier, and quick on its heels an explosion of fire, hot flames licking out between them. In the midst of battle, it's easier to set aside who he's fighting and focus on the simple fact of the battle. He will hurt her, he knows, probably eventually kill her, but it needs to be done.]

[closerift]

[ The truth is, though the damage would have been much worse without his barrier, the slash to his arm had been aimed that way. The wendigo, however vicious, is still Cecily, at least in part. Wide, milky eyes stare at the mage, nostrils flaring. Quick is a word that occurs to her, fingers flexing instinctively. It would be more satisfying for the angry spirit to pick him apart, to make it slow, to taste fear in his blood, but the voice in the body it shares says quick instead of slow. Which is why, when she lunges again, before the new barrier and the fire, she goes to tear at his throat.

She should have been faster, had aimed for lethal sooner. The monster, already leaping, passes through the small explosion. Shrieking, reeling in pain, it smashes into the fresh barrier, and with its weakened skin, the effect is compounded. The wendigo crumples to the ground, still alive, but badly wounded. She twitches, long limbs a mess of fires still lit and formerly-human skin crackling, smoking, the stench rising already. It releases a long, loud sound, trying to regain its bearings, but the fire is so impossibly hot and strong that there's more than enough time for another attack before she can recover and rise.

As if sensing a threat, the anchor crackles pitifully on her palm. ]

[sparkler]

[It should be easy to finish it. Dorian knows that, it should be. It's what needs to happen, and if she were herself, it's what Cecily would want to happen. But it's not easy, it's not at all, and as monstrous as she might be right now, it pains Dorian deeply to see her like that. To know that it's her he's wounded so badly, to know the agony she must be in.

His arm hurts, reminding him of the danger. He sees the anchor flicker. He has to keep going, he has to end this. It's the best thing to do, the only thing to do.

God. He's out of liquor. He won't even be able to drink until he blacks out, get this out of his head for a few hours. That's for the best. He ought to hold on to this, painful as it is, difficult as it is.

He drives his staff into the earth, summoning more power, and before he can talk himself into doing something utterly stupid and letting her go, Dorian casts another spell, another explosion of flame and heat, centered on the wendigo that was once his best friend.]

[closerift]

[ Later, she'll be able to thank him. She would never want to live as a monster, particularly not as one that could hurt or do worse to others. The fact that she's scratched at him is bad enough, a reminder of how deadly the wendigos really are. For as strong and quick, the fire is an overwhelmingly effective weapon. The first spell almost completely incapacitated her, and the second that he sends hits her full-blast, finishing it. The monster screams, twisted and sounding nothing like a human, writhing and twitching, form blackening beneath the bright flames. Eventually, it goes still, when the fire has eaten away through the armor and done fatal damage to the living thing beneath its tough skin.

The host is dead, but an almost-smoky wisp bursts from the corpse, screaming, still, into the night with rage and pain. The spirit of the beast goes free, leaving its victim still and lifeless on the ground. ]

[sparkler]

[It's over. It's over, but Dorian feels no real sense of satisfaction or accomplishment. He didn't want this, didn't want to have to do this. But it's over, and she's dead, and it's for the best. She would not have been able to forgive herself if she'd done something awful to an innocent, and Dorian did what needed to be done.

He leaves the body. He thinks he's supposed to, that Hope just takes them and remakes them, and anyway he doesn't want to stay here anymore. His hand tightens around his staff, and he goes home, tired and hurting and wishing desperately for a bottle of wine to drown himself in.

She'll be back. That helps. A little.]