Event Log: Fear itself

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Fear Itself Event!
Where: All over the city
When: Oct 21st-31st
Warnings: Worst fear type things, hideous monsters, death, all sorts of unpleasantness. Probably not for the squeamish.

On October 21st, your character may start noticing strange happenings. Visions out of the corner of their eyes, shadows moving around them, things that are dismissable enough if you think about how little sleep they've gotten and how much stress they must be under... still, is it really all in their heads?

On October 23rd, things ramp up considerably and your character will start to experience full hallucinations. Turn a corner and see a dead loved one, a living torturer, a hideous beast, or worse. Your fears are all coming into fruition, and the only way to be rid of them is to pair up and stay close at all times. Good luck figuring that out...

On October 26th-31st, Fear has had it with your silly attempts to avoid your fears and instead, when you get closer, your fears find a way to combine. Maybe it strengthens someone else's fear, maybe it becomes a horrific fear-hybrid, but the long and short of it is that you're pretty screwed if you want to get out of this without any mental scars. But hey, at least it's only for a few days. You can survive that long, right?

► This log covers October 21st-31st.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings, where they apply!

Comments

inquisitor trevelyan ; open

[closerift]

october 22nd - park

[ Something is wrong. More so than being whisked away to a bizarre new land and stuck there for an indeterminate about of time, anyway. The few members of the Inquisition who had arrived had holed up in one of the strange houses together, mutually puzzling over the technology and finding their place in this new, albeit temporary life. So they think, anyway.

Cecily is not a stranger to fear, but she also isn't often paranoid. Her senses have been honed appropriately after the enormous amount of time and stress associated with being Inquisitor in the sealing of the breach and their fight against Corypheus. It made sense, to be on a very sharp lookout for Venatori, red templars, demons, darkspawn... But that was in Thedas, not here. Wherever this world is, its quiet had begun to be interrupted by a creeping sensation, a shadow that lingered in her peripheral vision and then darted from her view once she turned.

The Inquisitor is in the park on this day, trying to work out her frustrations at seeing ghosts in the wings without actually admitting that it's happening. The last thing she (and, really, her friends) need is to have her suggest they've been followed by villains from their own world... or, worse: brought here by them. So, she has her bow in hand, shooting arrows into the trunk of a tree some distance away, expression oddly strained for someone doing something they'd practiced most of their life.

Though, there is the matter of her hand, which is beginning to pain her more drastically than before... ]


october 24th - by the lake

[ Their new house is strange and unlike Skyhold in more ways than she can count. It's to be expected, considering how different the land itself is, and its people. But most of all, it doesn't bring a firm security, a reassurance that there, at least, they're all safe from harm. Even Cullen had agreed that Skyhold was fantastically defensible, and after Haven, nobody intended to be caught unawares ever again. No, this isn't like their mountain fortress at all.

The panic had only risen as the days passed, the tides sweeping up into her brain, drowning her heart and flooding her mind with it. Today, the problems start small, with demons snarling beneath rifts, ones she can't seem to repair as her hand spikes wildly with pain and fails to do what it's been meant to do since the Conclave, the only reason she'd been needed, she thinks. The demons almost overrun her, but, blessedly, her companions arrive in an odd, perfectly-timed assembly.

Or so she thinks. "Can't even seal the damn breach?" Rainier scoffs, spitting on the ground. She blinks, stunned into silence, thrown completely off guard by his (and Sera's and Dorian's, too) expression of disdain, and... loathing, even.

"Always thought you were a shite leader." Sera grumbles, seemingly ignorant of the demons at her and the others' backs. Beginning to gather her wits, Cecily tries to take out the monsters, but they're too many, and her companions are somehow bizarrely unaware of them-

"A positive disaster. And it's no wonder; do you know that they wanted the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion to lead? You're hardly a substitute. Not a good soldier, a terrible diplomat... I wonder, what possessed us to follow you in the first place?" Dorian muses coldly.

And then the demons tear into them and she seizes up, crying out. Her arrows do nothing, only stick into the creatures and none else as they slash the three to pieces. They've seemed to lose interest in her completely, ignoring her anguished cries as she runs at them, hacking with a knife, bewildered by their ignoring her and positively maddened by what they're doing to Thom, Sera, and Dorian. ]

This - can't be real... [ She chokes, blood pumping wildly, shaking like a leaf. But it sounds, looks, even smells real as the copper tang of blood splashes out into the air, onto her clothes, and all she can really do is try and try again to stop the demons by the lake to no effect at all. ]


october 28th - various

[ Things are Not Going Well.

The Inquisitor, upon learning that all her fears come to life are mere hallucinations, has still be struggling infinitely with them. She's considered amputating her own arm more than once; it flashes green almost constantly, accompanied by a severe, stabbing pain. She can grin and bear it (mostly), but that's because she has many, many other problems at hand.

The nightmares aren't only her own. Fear, the old god that had announced his presence not a fortnight ago, is preying on them. She knows this. But... he isn't the only one (though he's the only real one, she has to remind herself).

It's difficult enough to tell the actual people trapped in this new world from the visions. Her friends are sometimes there, sometimes not. Even the fakes have learned, can lead her on for much longer than she's happy to admit before attacking her, before dying horribly, before following at her heels and telling her all the things she's done wrong, all the people she's let die. That's the worst of it and those are the times she's grateful for the pain in her arm, when she can focus on it entirely and try desperately to block out what she's being told in an endless stream, a vengeful hissing that isn't really there.

None of it is good and she's barely managing, but in the evening of the 29th, it reaches its peak. It starts with a trail of bodies, those of her friends and advisers back in Skyhold. Dazed, as if in a dream, she follows, trying to keep her eyes up and not on their wide, dead eyes, unseeing. It isn't real; pull yourself together. The trail ends at the feet of a distant figure, one with a glowing, red orb in his hand, tall and menacing and smiling, glad to see her again, revived yet again. None of this is really happening. You killed him. ]

Thief. Ignorant child, leading the blind on a failed crusade. [ Corypheus says, perfectly at ease. ] You have something that belongs to me.

[ He extends a skeletal arm and she screams, piercing the silence as a pain like she's never felt explodes under her skin, all up and down her arm green light flaring... ]

October 22nd

[theresolve]

[Rainier isn't one to give in to creeping feelings of dread. Well, alright, he's not one to ignore them either even if he's not going to drop everything to fret.

Still, he can't help but feel like there's something in the air he mislikes. A whisper on the wind, a scream in the distance. That the Inquisitor is out on her own makes him deeply uncomfortable - enough so that he sets out to the park to find her. He doesn't bother going fully armored but he never leaves without his sword and shield. There is a fine line between paranoid and stupid after all. He can hear the thud of arrows hitting the tree so he calls out-]

Inquisitor? Are you here?

28th

[sparkler]

[This week has been unpleasant, to say the least. Real or not, the visions Dorian has seen have been extremely upsetting, and though being near someone helped to a certain extent, the effectiveness seems to have faded. On top of that, does anyone really want to share their fears with someone else in such a direct way? It's not only frightening, but embarrassing as well.

But that won't keep Dorian from offering what help he can, when he can. And when he hears that scream, more familiar than it should be, he starts running, clutching his staff. It might be of no help at all, but - it's something. It will be his presence, at least.]

Inquisitor!

[He skids to a halt when he sees the scene before him. Corypheus, who they killed, and her arm all aglow, and the pain so clear. For an instant, he doesn't know what to do. How best to fight something that isn't real?]

Adam Parrish | open (cw: physical/emotional abuse)

[unknowable]

[23rd - no thank you]

[Things have been - eerie, recently. Unsettling. Adam might even go so far as to call it creepy. But the fact of the matter is that hallucinations are Adam's new normal. He's gotten used to shapes in the mirror or whispers in his ears, he'd gotten used to it even before he was stolen away from home. Sometimes it's terrifying, but usually he can figure things out. Usually he can calm himself down.

These aren't his normal hallucinations, they're much subtler and more unfamiliar than that, but that doesn't change the basic truth of things, which is that Adam Parrish is used seeing strange things out of the corner of his eyes. So he's jumpy, certainly, but not overly so. He leaves the house as normal, venturing out to retrieve some food from one of the shops.

He doesn't think it will be a trip worthy of note. He doesn't realize that things have gotten worse, not until he sees a shape step out of an alleyway in front of him.

He freezes, and at first he doesn't realize why. It's an unconscious impulse as something deep within him freezes as well, ice coating his spine. A moment later, the familiarity of that shape sinks in, and all he can do is stare as Robert Parrish turns toward him, deep-set eyes set in a scowl.

It's a look Adam has seen hundreds of times, right before a blowup. It's a look that sends his mind scrambling for what he might have done wrong, frantically trying to figure out the right thing to say in order to avert the almost certain violence that's about to erupt. But there are so many things, too many things, and how is his father here? All he can do is stare, trying to grasp the right words, fear prickling his skin and freezing him in place.

What are you staring like that for? You think you can get out of this by acting like a sullen brat?

And it's been months since Adam has heard that voice, but it still strikes him to the core. He stumbles backwards, thoughts churning sluggishly, as his father walks toward him.]


[27th - don't walk away]

[It's been bad. There's no way it could have been anything but bad. By now Adam knows it's not real, he knows having people around helps, but he can't be around people all the time. He doesn't want to be, he doesn't want anyone to see him terrified and useless.

But being alone is worse. Being alone means Gansey dead on the ground, Ronan bleeding out on a church floor, Noah disappearing forever, and above all, Adam's father. Robert Parrish, with choice words and a quick backhand, and hallucinations shouldn't be able to hurt you, but tell that to Adam's aching ribs, tell that to the harsh, purpling bruise on his cheekbone.

He'd thought he'd gotten away, back in Henrietta, after the court date. Now he knows he can never really escape.

He's been protected by the magic within him, sometimes. Not all the time. He's had someone there to drive the visions away, sometimes. Not all the time. Not every time. Adam wants to hide, wants to curl up and wait for it all to go away, but of course he won't. He has things to do, friends to protect, basic, simple things that he can't allow fear to keep him from.

Right now, he's not alone, but out on the streets with someone nearby, and that should be enough to keep the hallucinations away. But it's not, because there he is walking closer, Robert Parrish, an angry, larger echo of his son, careless and furious.

And Adam looks to the person nearby, but his father doesn't disappear, and panic rises in his chest.]

Please don't.


[or make your own.]

23rd - lemme know if this works!

[theresolve]

[Rainier trudges along his way through the city on a supply run, himself. Getting things from stores still makes him a bit uneasy like this, but the bears have vanished into the caves that are best left unexplored at the moment and man cannot live on bear alone even then. That's how you get scurvy.

He spots Adam staring into an alleyway a few streets down and instantly recognizes the body language even if the boy is facing away from him. That's fear, if it's anything. The kind of fear that roots a man in place.

Cautiously, hand on his sword, Rainier approaches. He doesn't call out to Adam, doesn't want whatever is menacing him to know that Rainier is there. He's ready to draw when he gets close enough to see down the alleyway and -

Nothing. There's nothing, just some trash. More debris.

He holds out a hand as Adam stumbles back so that the boy doesn't stumble straight into him.]

Adam? What's wrong?

[Rainier still has a hand on his sword. He's run into enough weird shit to know that just because he can't see it, doesn't mean that there isn't something there. Or something that was there a moment ago and will be right behind them the next moment.]

27th

[greywaren]

[As soon as Ronan realized earlier in the week what was happening, his thoughts centered on Adam. On Gansey too, sure- the bees that he knew he must be seeing, the thought of them dead- but Ronan has looked Adam's own greatest fear in the eyes and tried to fight it down. He's seen his fear, he's slammed his fist into its face more times than he can recall in his haze of rage.

So, he had tried to stay close. Pressed his back against the wall separating their bedrooms, hoping it would work, hoping Adam was close enough to him to make the visions disappear. He was fully aware that it wasn't something that Adam would want to be brought up- hell, he didn't want to tell anyone what he was seeing- but he'd tried to help in what subtle ways when he could. Leaving his room for breakfast, casually joining him on trips for supplies, sprawling out on the living room couch whenever someone else was home... it was stupid, and sometimes he felt like an idiot doing it, but that's what worked.

But it's different now. This is the first time that Ronan has been able to see Robert Parrish as well, and for a moment he's confused. Ronan not afraid of him- he's afraid, maybe, of what he's done and what he could do to Adam, but he's not- personally terrified of him.

Ronan takes a step closer, but the hallucination doesn't fade. He casts a sidelong glance toward Adam out of the corner of his eye before he presses a hand on the other boy's shoulder, gently urging him back so he can stand in front of him.]

Stay close to me. Nothing is going to happen, alright?

23rd

[fuwatokurage]

[Clear wanders around the city with his umbrella over his head even though there isn't any rain for its use. He'd been hearing Aoba's voice around him, but he hasn't seen any sign of him around. He wondered if he missed him so much, he heard him screaming.

It gives him the shivers to think of that.

That's when he sees Adam looking as if he is in trouble. He tilts his head and approaches him. He drops his umbrella and catches him gently by the shoulders when he stumbles back.]

Adam? Are you all right? Are you in danger?

23rd, if this is okay c:

[unmakes]

❰ as it turns out, in his stumbling backward he nearly backs into sally. she's just turning a corner and there he is in front of her, so she backs up a step for herself, hands lifting palm-out like 'whoa' before she recognizes who exactly it is and sets a hand on his shoulder instead. ❱

Adam? Hey - ❰ and her eyes try to follow his, to figure out what the hell he's staring at with that kind of abject horror, but she can't see it. ❱

27th

[mintly]

[they've all been hallucinating for days. gansey is starting to get a little numb to it now, as much as he can ever be numb to the sight of his friends dying, of being screamed at by hallucinations for dying himself, to the persistent buzzing of hornets in every shadow.

but then he sees robert parrish, and gansey isn't numb anymore. he's seen adam die a dozen times in the past few days, heard the crunch of his head against the railing and then the snap of his neck on the ground, but he's never seen the man who would've undoubtedly been responsible.]

Adam? Adam, no, don't get any closer.

[gansey doesn't care if adam is a hallucination or not, he still pulls the other boy behind the protection of his broader body. the elder parrish is huge (perhaps, in this case, even larger than life), but gansey isn't exactly small. he doesn't really know how to fight, either, and maybe he can't stop this whole hallucination from playing out again, but he's going to try.]

Thom Rainier | Open

[theresolve]

23rd - You'll hang for this

Rainier doesn't notice something is wrong right away.

He's not used to hallucinations, and they're subtle things. A number of nooses hanging from open crumbling ledges, just out of reach. Disturbing, but possibly part of the scenery, even if it brings back unpleasant memories of walking up to those gallows to take his place on them.

Then the bodies start showing up in them.

Faces he recognizes - the men, his men, the ones he let take the fall for him. So many with promising futures, good men who made the mistake of trusting a person they hadn't realized was rotten to the core. They're still alive though, like they were just dropped from the window and hadn't had the grace of their neck snapping, choking slowly and looking at him with fear and betrayal both.

The window they hang from is on the third floor, the building barely holding together. The floor, the stairs are just as likely to drop out from under Thom but he doesn't hesitate. If there's even a chance - even the smallest chance he has to try, he owes them that - desperate fear has his heart feeling like it's beating somewhere in his throat as he pushes what remains of the door out of the way and runs inside towards obvious danger.

He has to try. He owes them that. Maker, does he owe them that.


30th - No less than you deserve (cw: dead kids)

Two things are apparent by now - the first is that they are hallucinations, and the second is that being around other people make them go away.

So Thom isolates himself. Returns to his tent. Wakes up to the sound of screaming children every time he starts to nod off.

Thom never thought he deserved anything except punishment for what he did. He deserves to live through this, to be haunted by it. To see his own reflection as the younger man who would do anything if he was paid, half the time seeing him with the blood on his own hands. It might as well have been, it was entirely his fault. Blackwall, the real Blackwall, looking on in silent disdain at his failure to live up to what he had hoped of Rainier.

They almost never actually attack him. He would welcome it if they did, wishes they would take vengeance out on him.

He's making his way along the riverbank, pack over his shoulder and trying to steer clear of people when he sees it. On the road ahead, one clear bit of road. A carriage. This one doesn't look battered like it has in the past. He feels like he's going to throw up - if he looks inside he'll see the corpses. That's all that's ever been inside.

He still swallows down the bile and diverts his path, making his way to it.

He deserves this.

23rd

[unitas]

Sharon witnesses the man, armor clad, charge into a building, a building she would say wasn't fit for the rats that might dare make it home, an unstable mass that threatened to topple at the briefest of touches. She waits a single second, breath held, willing him to return and save her the effort, but he doesn't.

He doesn't return.

She curses to herself, already on the move,"Fuck!"

It only takes another second for her to enter, and the building gives a great groan rather as if they'd stepped into the belly of a hungry beast.

"H-Hey," Her heart hammers as she shouts in, fingers pressing into the frame of the door,"I don't think this is the best place to explore right now!"

30th

[sparkler]

[He hadn't been looking for Rainier, but the thought had been in the back of Dorian's mind. The man had disappeared again, off on his own, no doubt because of the visions they've all been dealing with, terrifying and almost too much to handle. But it's not a time to be alone, not really, and though Dorian is not the type to force his presence upon others too much, he had thought once or twice of looking for the man.

Then things got worse, and he'd stopped thinking of it at all.

But now here Rainier is, on the road ahead of him, and Dorian almost does not go toward him. Things can be shared now, he knows that, and he doesn't know what he'll see. What they'll see. But a carriage - that, at least, puts the pieces together, and he steps forward.

There's nothing of his yet. That makes it easier.]

Best not to go that way, I think.

Noah Czerny | open

[casperdisaster]

25th - It's been a long day

Noah couldn't remembered how he died. He knew it happened, but the specifics of it - whatever was left of Noah wasn't 'there' for it. He was alive and then... he wasn't. And he couldn't remember when one became the other.

It was awful.

It was fine.

He couldn't remember it, so it was like it hadn't happened sometimes. Especially being someplace else, being alive again. He could pretend.

He can't pretend, seeing it now.

Noah thought a quick errand run out would be fine, he wouldn't be alone long enough for it to happen again, but on an abandoned street halfway between the store and home there it is again, Whelk coming up behind a living Noah and striking him once, and again, and -

He didn't need to know what he looked like when he died. At this rate he can't forget. He sinks to his knees, watching another version of himself gasping for breath, face a mess of blood and gore, six minutes do die as Whelk stands over him as if shocked by what he'd done, skateboard in hand, blood splattered on his face.

Scrambling back, Noah loses everything in his stomach as he throws up just off the main road. He can have shame when he isn't reliving the worst moment and end of his life all over again.


26th - Blunt force trauma kills a lot of things

Noah, so often afraid of everything, rarely needs an excuse to stay glued to the side of his friends. As harrowing as this whole thing has been, it hasn't been much of a game changer in that regard. If his going on errands with Adam or sleeping next to Gansey or doing nothing with Ronan helps keep their fears at bay, all the better.

So he's not alone while he's outside, why would he be? Even if it isn't with one of his friends he makes sure to stay around people.

Maybe it's a sound from behind him that gets him to turn from the task at hand, maybe one of his companions has clearly reacted to seeing someone behind Noah. Someone who may as well be a ghost himself.

God, Whelk was handsome when he was young. The slightly too large features that looked awkward on a twenty-something burnout were gorgeous on the seventeen year old with the world at his fingertips. His Aglionby uniform pants and shirt (sweater left in Noah's mustang) are perfectly tailored to fit him. Even looking harrowed, looking desperate, it isn't surprising to see how girls would put up with his bullshit personality - well, aside from the money he had access to.

It's the turning to look that saves Noah, at least briefly. The blow from the skateboard Barrington Whelk holds only glances off his left cheek instead of smashing into the side of his skull with all the force Whelk can muster. It still knocks Noah off his feet, still makes him taste blood as he cut his mouth open on his teeth, world spinning as he looks up at Whelk.

He knew the hallucinations could hurt - he's seen the bruises on Adam, but - but for some reason in spite of being Noah's murderer, Whelk has never hurt Noah - just copies of Noah. Even looking up at Whelk's face - desperate, regretful, but not enough to stop - he can't really believe this is actually happening.

"Don't make this more difficult, Czerny." Whelk warns, raising the skateboard up again.

God, it feels like he hasn't heard that voice in years.

25th

[unknowable]

[He sees Noah on his knees, bent over just off the road, and there's another shape - one that seems to fade away as Adam's steps speed up, as he gets closer to his friend.]

Noah!

[It isn't so hard to figure out what, or who, that shape must have been. Adam's seen enough terrifying things to know that whatever's going on, it's picking the most awful things from their minds and throwing it back in their faces, and for Noah, it has to be his death. What, after all, is worse than the ultimate betrayal by a friend?

Adam's presence chases the nightmare away, at least for now, and he steadfastly does not think about the things he's seen himself, the fresh bruises on his ribs. He kneels down next to Noah, puts a hand on his back.]

Hey. You're okay. You're here.

25th

[fuwatokurage]

Clear has taken to the rooftops of whatever flat rooftop he could find. The apartment buildings aren't so flat, so he had to migrate to find a prime spot to stare up at the sky absentmindedly.

But the sound of retching pulled him back to reality and he looked over the side to see a familiar figure getting rather sick. He furrowed his brows in concern before hopping off the side of the building next to Noah.

"Noah..." He reached out to pat him on the back.

"Are you not feeling well? Do you need assistance?"

26th

[mintly]

[gansey has spent the past few days seeing noah dead, his body lying on the ground decomposing like a hideous near-decade time-lapse into the corpse he and blue found. but he's never seen this, seen whelk actually swing that skateboard. but it goes wrong, and noah only falls to the ground with a scraped cheek and split lip, and something sets cold in gansey's stomach.

what if that's really noah?

gansey runs desperately toward the unfolding scene, ready to, if nothing else, tackle barrington whelk to the ground before he does any real damage to what gansey is starting to suspect is the real noah. even his own fear and panic aren't enough that he doesn't notice the odd nostalgia and sadness that almost overwhelm the fear on noah's face.]

Sharon Da Silva | Open

[unitas]

▍▍▍▍ THE 21ST-22ND: SHOPS, HOUSING AREA

[ The darkness dances like fog at the edge of her vision, stretching out from the shadows. It's easy enough to ignore, at first, more hallucination than reality, but every now and again it sneaks so close she can feel it: a pull, and a whisper.

The shadows between the shops, and houses only play at her paranoia, leaving her a tense mess. When someone steps out from one of the nearby buildings, she startles like a rabbit, jumping. ]

Fuck. [ The word comes out breathy, one hand against her heart. Then, as if to brush it off: ] I think this place is making me paranoid.

▍▍▍▍ THE 24th: SHOPS

[ The world has been stripped bare, rusted and hollowed out. The ground beneath her feet has turned a dark, earthy red where it hasn't fallen away to reveal the hell beneath it's gridded floor. Many of the buildings, shops once vibrant, have all but crumbled, leaving behind metal shells and deteriorating walls.

It was a world devoid of life, and love, and it was shockingly familiar.

Sharon races through an alley, skidding as she attempts to round the corner too quickly; she stumbles painfully with a yelp, ankle twisting beneath her, but she doesn't dare to slow. She bursts through a shop door, and quickly slams it shut before she ducks behind a counter to hide, not even daring to breathe. ]

▍▍▍▍ THE 28th: HOUSING AREA (COMBO-OPEN)

[ A girl screams. The sound comes from one of the rounded homes, all tidied up and ready for occupants. It builds, pitching higher and higher, devolving from begging and pleading to just... screams. Her voice does not drown out the rise of chanting, and shouts as smoke begins to fill the sky above the home.

Before anyone can make it to the building, it's up in flames, the crackling of wood barely enough to mask the desperate cries from inside.

Sharon Da Silva stands outside, close enough to feel each blow of heat as the fires flicker. She shakes, teeth grit, and then screams, hands clenched into tight fists by her side. ]

You're not real! [ But, God, it feels real. ]

24th

[closerift]

[ She's having her own issues (everyone seems to be) that are becoming mildly debilitating. Her glowing left hand, for one, which occasionally sparks and crackles with green magic that has her releasing sharp, pained gasps.

It's been one of those weeks. For the others... well. They don't appear to be much better off. Cecily half-catches a young woman dashing, tripping, stumbling into a shop as if there's something after her; knowing enough of the hallucinations thus far to know that she may be in trouble. At the very least, she may need someone to help her find reality again.

Maker knows that she did, herself.

Carefully, making sure not to startle the other woman, the Inquisitor slips in the door and holds up her hands. ]

Are you all right? [ She sets down the bow in her hands, searching the strained expression of Sharon Da Silva. ] Is something after you?

28th

[greywaren]

Holy shit.

[...is a bit of an understatement. Ronan can feel the heat of the fire against his face as he rounds the corner, the brightness of the flame obscuring the rest of his vision and casting the street into dark shadows and shapes. He can barely make out Sharon's outline among it all, and as much as he's not generally a fan of helping others, he's struck by the sudden worry that she's going to go in while it's on fire like that.

So, Ronan moves up toward her, his breath rattling in his throat as he pulls his shirt up over his mouth and nose to try to filter out as much smoke as he can.]

What the fuck are you doing? You've got to get out of here!

[The fire crackles and pops dangerously and Ronan winces as the heat licks across his face, and he thinks he hears something familiar- but no, it's just his imagination, it's just inside of his head. The important thing is making sure this girl doesn't char herself into a crisp, here.]

Arya Stark, open (gore/body horror cw)

[whichend]

24 october: heads will roll
[ Arya has been hyper-vigilant these past few days. She's rarely slept, and she's rarely stopped moving, but she couldn't tell you why. There's a sick sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, and she's been coping the only way she knows how -- throwing herself into survival.

She's going to try to fish today. Fishing requires focus, after all, and maybe it'll distract her from her discomfort. As she nears the lake, she wrinkles her nose. It smells different here. Foul.

It smells like King's Landing.

She can feel the crowds of people pushing against her, and she quickens her pace. Can't get run over. The crowds are chanting, screaming for an execution. Traitor, traitor, traitor.

Arya looks up and out of the crowd. They've brought her father out. His face is drawn, sickly pale. A guard has to hold him up, and in his weak state, he's barely taller than Joffrey.

The chants grow louder. Traitor, traitor, traitor. A black-masked man draws a knife across her father's throat. She can hear it cut through the bone, she can hear the spatter of blood, but most of all, she hears a laugh. Joffrey's laugh, high and cold and evil. They throw her father's head off the tower. She catches it, but it isn't her father anymore. Her father would never be so wet, so cold. He wouldn't look at her like that.

Arya screams, and the crowd turns on her. They push her to the ground, clutching the head. She knows she's next. ]

28 october: send us a blind girl, send us a blade
[ She has to keep washing herself. She has to get the blood off. The Hound, the Tickler, the squire, the guard -- if the Kindly Man sees the blood, he'll know she's been giving the gift without permission. The gift of the Many-Faced God is not hers to give, but she saw her father die, and she is just re-balancing the scales.

Someone's coming.

Arya turns, hides her hands behind her back. What are you hiding, child? ]

Nothing.

[ Who are you? ]

No one.

[ You lie!

The Kindly Man grabs her. His hand burns, and Arya knows he will leave a mark. The Kindly Man places his other hand on her face, and her vision clouds. She is blind again, and this time, Arya knows they will take more than just her sight. They will take her face. She can feel it. It hurts, a pain so great and terrible she wishes she could just die instead.

They do not give her that gift.

Instead, they throw her, blind and faceless, but still alive, into a pit with the rotting, decaying corpses of her parents and brothers. She has overstayed her welcome. ]

28th

[fuwatokurage]

[Clear's eyes are wide with horror as he sees the little girl thrown into some sort of pit of rot. What was happening in this awful place for him to have seen so much terror in a few days' time.

But he as much as he wants to hesitate, this was just a little girl! He had to help her.

As he nears the pile of corpses, they all transform from her family to his beloved Aoba. Every single one of them. Blue hair and blood, once bright defiant eyes dulled with the shadow of death.

That can't be possible. It's impossible!

He throws himself down and reaches his hand out for the girl.]

Can you hear my voice?

the Alcohol Demon || Open

[notjustinthemirror]

Beginning of Event

[The Demon actually thinks this is pretty great. The vague feeling of being watched is nothing new, and while he can't figure out what's watching him, he does enjoy the vague unease that everyone else is experiencing.

Helpfully he leaves a few mannequins around corners for people to run into, just to see what happens.

Because he's so busy stalking people and watching he only has brief moments where he starts seeing things that aren't there. He thought he had seen Ethan, and something that might have been one of the Oro. But they disappeared so quickly that he couldn't be sure and he just shrugged it off.]

October 28

[Stalking people has finally turned around to bite him, as visions of the Oro are more frequent now. He can also hear a high pitched buzzing noise that he can't shake off, it's making the metal pieces in his chest vibrate in a really painful way and no matter how many of the sonic emitters he thinks he sees and destroys it won't go away.

He's also being chased. By the Oro, by Ethan, by Dorland, and while normally he'd just stand there and beat the shit out of them, something he's never felt before is causing him to run away and he does not like this feeling at all. He skids around a corner and runs right smack into one of his own mannequins, falling back and crashing into the wall.]

28

[casperdisaster]

[Noah is still trying to stick around people even if it isn't making the problems go away anymore. It's the principle of the thing, Noah hates to be alone. He was so alone for so long, it's probably understandable that he doesn't want to return to it.

So, when Noah hears the crash, he is pretty sure there's not a damn thing he can do about it. But he's also sure that he probably should try.]

H-hello? Is someone there, are you - are you okay?

[Noah figures, better not to sneak up on people, freaky as things are right now. He feels like he can always hear the sound of the wind through the leaves of the trees, the sound of another person breathing just behind him.]

sally malik | 25th & 27th & 29th

[unmakes]

THE 25TH ❰ reality as we know it ❱

❰ it's been months since sally's spent this much time alone. no - over a year. ever since seth showed up, at least one of the geckos was home almost every night, even if the other was dead. and it wasn't ideal - no scenario including the phrase 'even if the other was dead' could really hope to be ideal - but it worked. it was enough, y'know? enough to make her feel a little less off her rocker.

which she isn't, in theory. or... wasn't anyway, and she's not entirely sure when that would've changed. all she knows is that all these months, everything's felt real no matter what crazy shit happened or who disappeared without the slightest trace they'd ever existed to begin with, and it's felt like that because of them.

they aren't here now. it's been fourteen days, and sally's running on fumes. you'd think being an actual solid physical being would keep the edge off her existential crisis, but not so much actually. every little thing trips her out - like, she sets something down one second and it's gone the next, and that's not 'huh, that's weird' or 'this shithole must be screwing with me just like the last one did'. no, it's 'see, that freaking thing just moved, this is all in my head isn't it??' which is stupid and she knows it but she can't make it stop.

on the contrary, it's only getting worse.

she saw their house today. which is weird as hell, since it wasn't even their latest house - it was the one in jersey, the one that should be reduced to splinters in a lesser hell right now. the one they lived in for the better part of a year, though she didn't officially 'live there' until just a few months before they left and she never had her own room. she did have a couch, though. it might have even been there, if she'd opened the door to check. but she didn't, because something about that house's appearance here filled her gut with nausea and dread.

then came the spa. it was hard to make out through the stained glass windows, but she'd bet her life on the fact that she did in fact see donna's spa in one of the shops yesterday. the same spa she was trapped in for god knows how long after donna dragged her down through her death spot. it wasn't a real spa, but a figment born entirely of her subconscious. just like it was just now. just like this whole place might be.

now she's by the river. she made it about ten minutes into a riverside walk to try to clear her head, but now she can be found, hands curled to shaking fists, and knees threatening to buckle, with her gaze fixed on a nearby tree. just a regular everyday riverside tree, for anybody who can't see the noose. ❱

THE 27TH ❰ don't fear the reaper ❱

❰ by now, her dawning existential crisis is the least of her troubles. sure, everything she's known for a year and a half might be an elaborate figment of her imagination, but at least that doesn't hurt anybody - as much as not actually existing can fail to hurt someone.

now though, he's back. tall, dark, and handsome in a hollow and almost sickening way, he first appeared in the kitchen of the place she's been staying. no words, yet. possibly teasing her with any hope of being able to pretend he isn't here.

but he is. she saw him shred a girl just for trying to break the stained glass outside one of the stores - an actual flesh and blood girl, but he stuck his hand inside her like she didn't exist and tore her apart nonetheless and all of a sudden she was gone in a puff of red. like the intangible smoke from a shredded ghost, but if you reach through it, you come back with blood on your hands.

"Don't pretend it disturbs you." it's the first thing he says to her. the words sent a creeping twitch down her spine, though in actuality it's probably more the tone than the words. low like the growl of a wildcat but smooth as silk. deceptively smooth.

he's spoken plenty since then. never chatty, and true to form, still excellent at saying precisely the most unsettling thing at any given time. unsettling because it's fucked up, sometimes. more often than not though, it's unsettling because it's true. unsettling because she can relate. she asked him why he's not after her this time, and he told her she's no longer tipping the balance. now she's a reaper in her own right. multiple times she told him to leave her the hell alone. he said he wouldn't be here if she didn't want him to be. if she didn't want him to be here to see what she's become and to make her feel like she wasn't alone.

sally wished she knew how to argue with that.

she's figured out that keeping him away from people is an excellent way to keep them safe. so she's off by herself now, sitting against a tree deep in the park at the far corner of the cave. to anyone who spots her, she'll seem alone. but just moments after you see her, her eyes dart your direction, and she's scrambling to her feet with a shout: ❱

GET OUT OF HERE!

❰ but rather than anger or anything like it, the words are laced with fear. like she's incredibly afraid for your safety, whether she knows you or not. her eyes seem to dart from you to something else between you and her. you can't see him, not unless you touch sally herself, but all six-foot-four of him in his oppressive cloud of darkness is striding purposefully in your direction. ❱

THE 29TH ❰ aroooooooo ❱

❰ this is it - it's go time. at least it feels like go time. it feels like crawling out of her skin time, not that it hasn't felt like that all freaking week...

the point is, shit's fucked up and she's not taking any chances.

long before the pre-shift muscle cramping starts, she's located one of the tunnels along the walls of the cave and hauled a bartered chunk of bear steak a good hundred feet into the dark. that's where she stops, underhanding the bear meat as far as she can toss it into the deep and unyielding black.

anyone who happens to wander into the caves might find her in one of two states.

if they're lucky, it's pre-shift. they probably are, since who the fuck goes spelunking at night, and in this case, if they wander a few dozen yards in, a stray beam from her flashlight will lead them right to her. she's wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor next to what appears to be a pile of shed clothes. whoops.

if they aren't lucky, it's after the shift. there's no friendly flashlight to let them know they aren't alone. just creeping claws on stone and a low, rumbling snarl. ❱

[zen_en_vert]

[On the 25th, someone spots her staring at the tree.

Bruce goes through phases, resolving one day to keep his head down and not to intervene, resolving the next that someone has to do something- and with what he's been seeing out of the corner of his eye lately, well, it feels unkind not to say anything.]

Excuse me?

Tony Stark 15 minutes late with Starbucks-CW: Torture, death, some gore?

[shwarm_after]

October 24th-I can't seem to breathe through a rusted metal heart CW: Torture

By the lake.

[ He can't move. He can't breathe. He can't move or breathe and he's gripping to the car battery in his hands. If he drops it he dies right now. If he can hold his breath just a little longer, maybe he can get out of this alive. He struggles against the arms keeping him down. But they have him held down. All he can hear is muffled shouting and the slosh of water as he thrashes in the pool.

He's pulled up and he spits out dirty water. Tries to breathe. Get enough air in his lungs. There's shouting in a language he can't understand. The only word he knows is Jericho and he shakes his head. He can't.

The arms that hold him shove him back in the water again.

He struggles harder and this time they push him deeper in until his face is almost touching the bottom of the pool. His feet try kicking out and he clings harder to the battery in his arms. They only push him further down. His lungs burn and his heart races. He needs air. He needs air now.

The water still sloshes and he nearly drops the car battery just to end this. ]

October 26th- Sooner or later God'll cut you down CW: Death

Not by the lake

[ They've been around. Out in the corner of his eye, behind corners and just out of his line of sight. It was just stress. Just the fact that he's been stranded here fucking with his head. It's not a big deal. He tries to convince himself of that. Tries to keep down the mild panic that keeps trying to creep its way up. Imagining Chitauri soldiers wasn't a big deal. It wasn't anything.

Except it's suddenly a big thing. A very big thing. The large creatures (Leviathan, he remembers JARVIS calling them that) Loom over the city like lazy whales. Only unlike Free Willy, they crash into buildings and carry Chitauri soldiers that rain down on the city. Lasers destruction, death, everywhere and he was without his suit. Useless. He finds himself running from soldiers, dodging the shots aimed at him.

But he can think of a way out of this. He can think of a way out of all of this. He stopped them before, he can stop them again. Maybe he doesn't have a nuclear missile to take through a wormhole, and maybe he doesn't have JARVIS, but He's got Steve and Bruce here, wherever they are, and that's half of their little boyband. They got this.

Except when he turns a corner into an alleyway, he knows that they don't.

They're all here. All of them. Steve, Bruce, Romanoff, Barton, Thor... When the hell did the last three show up? When did they get here? When did this happen?

Mangled bodies, lifeless eyes, and broken weaponry. They weren't just defeated, they were destroyed. Thor's an alien god. The Hulk's nearly indestructible. The other three are smarter than this. How? All logic says that this shouldn't happen but it's right in front of him. The smell of blood fills his nostrils and he swallows down the panic as he steps closer to them. They can't be dead. They all can't be dead. This isn't real.

Steve's on the ground. His shield is broken and he's just as lifeless as the rest of them. His eyes stare past Tony as he approaches him. Tony moves to check his pulse. It's not there. It's not there and Tony feels his heart race. No, no, no, no. This can't happen. He can't do this alone. He can't do this without his suit. He can't do this.

Why didn't you do more? It's a soft whisper and he doesn't know where it comes from because Rogers is still lifeless in front of him. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He doesn't have an answer. There's no smart ass comment, or excuse. Only the fact that they're all gone because of him. Because he wasn't there. Because he wasn't prepared. Because he didn't do enough.

You could have stopped this.

For once of his life, he agrees with Captain America. ]

26th - if this is ok!

[unknowable]

[Adam was heading home, as quickly as he could, but when a movement down an alleyway catches his eye, he pauses. With everything that's been going on - all that he's been seeing and experiencing, the waking nightmares and everything else - he knows he should look away and keep walking. It's not his problem. Not his nightmare.

He doesn't recognize the bodies laying in the street, just as he doesn't recognize the man walking among them. All the more reason to keep going. But he doesn't, not yet, though he lingers near the entrance of the alleyway, not going closer.]

Hey.

[His voice carries, pitched loud enough to, hopefully catch the man's attention.]

It's not real. It's not. Just - walk away.

gansey | open (cw: gore, attempted suicide, abuse, death)

[mintly]

[oct 24-27]

[it starts out that when he's alone, gansey sees them. he'll walk into a room and noah will be lying there, twitching, his skull caved and the ground spattered with it. or he'll turn a corner on the street and there ronan will be, sitting in a pool of his own blood, arms torn open from a hundred slashes. when he wakes in the middle of the night he sees a hospital bed beside his own, ronan lying there pale and full of stitches, heart monitor a series of slower and slower beeps unti he sighs out a breath and the entire room echoes with the shrill sound of a flatline. sometimes adam will tumble out of nowhere, a muffled yelling in the background as he goes flying and lands wrong, and there's a pair of sickening cracks as his head hits the pavement, and his body jags, snapping his neck.

then sometimes it's gansey himself, a sheet pressed to his mouth as he hacks up bright blood until his eyes roll up in his head and he seizes on the ground, then goes still. or, somehow worse, stepping into a sudden swarm of hornets and slowly falling, curling up with hands over his ears, chest heaving and straining until it stops.]

[oct 27-31]

[gansey's greatest fear is death, and his second greatest fear is to be hated by his friends for dying. what great and terrible hybrids can be brought to fruition here?]

26th-ish?

[unknowable]

[Just because they know the visions aren't real doesn't mean that it's any less horrifying, any less upsetting. Adam knows that intimately, by now. He's torn between wanting to be near the others as much as possible, to keep the demons at bay, and wanting to lock himself away to deal with things on his own. It's so hard to get over that impulse, that kneejerk desire to take care of it alone.

But he's trying. And so he looks for Gansey, when it's just the two of them at home for awhile, offering his presence and companionship for the both of them, for whatever it can do to help.

A shadow on the stairway makes him flinch, but it's nothing, at least not yet. And when he finds Gansey, he walks closer carefully, not sure what Gansey is seeing but knowing it can't be good.]

Hey.

zelos wilder | for lloyd

[fafnirs]

23rd

❰ they'd made it alright so far. survival wasn't exactly new to the pair of them, and survival under dire circumstances was no exception. to this day, zelos has yet to quite decide what he makes of the place - purgatory or some kind of touristy niflheim or a third parallel world that even yggdrasil never heard of, and this 'hope' deity was no help - but the cool part is, it doesn't actually matter. it doesn't matter where they are or why. zelos is dead. lloyd-... well, okay, that matters a little. if this is the real lloyd and not some kind of mind-trick, then yeah, he should probably be working on a way to get his bud the hell outta here...

but 'should probably' doesn't always mean 'is currently'. currently, zelos is shopping.

and by shopping, i mean looting. yolo.

lloyd would be all kinds of disappointed if he found out, but by the time they reunite, it'll be far from mind. because as zelos rounds a corner, he comes face-to-face with a hauntingly-familiar woman with long red hair and noble apparel made complete by the gaping hole in her chest. it goes all the way through to her back, the hole. zelos knows. he was there when she got it.

he stops short, the wet chill of a snowflake settling on his bare shoulder - and then another, and another and another but he almost doesn't even realize. his eyes are fixed on the woman. his mother. she looks so young now, but then, he's almost her age. young and cold and dead. something he can relate to, on basically every possible level.

and then she moves, a lurching motion that ultimately just raises a hand in his direction but she may as well have pulled a knife, the way he reacts. a choked, humorless chuckle shudders in his throat, and he staggers back, one hand lifting to the building to catch himself as he trips over goddess even knows what. because nope, no, this is impossible, it's impossible.

finally he can tear his eyes off her long enough to turn tail and run, though he only keeps up that pace around the next corner before he slows to a haphazard walk-jog, stealing a glance over his shoulder. another few seconds and lloyd's in sight, so he lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck and chuckles again only mildly more convincingly. ❱

Hey - hey bud, I was just thinking: I feel like we'd find more firewood if we camped - ❰ anywhere but here. ❱ - off by the river, whadayathink?

[fervence]

[unfortunately for zelos' peace of mind no doubt, 'mildly more convincing' hadn't been enough to actually convince lloyd of anything when it came to zelos in... well, quite some time, really. since that conversation on dirk's balcony maybe. or at the very least after their walk in the snow.

he'd hoped that after everything with mithos, zelos would have stopped trying to lie to him about stupid things, but ever since they'd found themselves in this new world something about zelos has been off. how, lloyd couldn't even begin to guess. mostly he'd just been keeping a close eye on the older man and waiting for him to realize he can talk to lloyd like he has so many times before.

but there's an edge to zelos now that lloyd distinctly doesn't like the look of, and he's frowning before he can really stop himself.] Makes sense I guess. [he says, scratching the side of his neck with the careless curl of one hand to keep himself from reaching out to zelos instead.

pushing too hard too fast with zelos never turned out so well, honestly.] ...are you okay?