Event Log: Senses Fail

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Senses Fail event
Where: All over the city
When: May 14th-May 20th
Warnings: None

You wake up on the 14th, and something is different. Maybe it's something small - you can't smell anything, or your hearing on one side seems to be on the fritz. Or it could be something large and impossible to miss - you've gone completely blind, or you seem to be missing a leg. You've lost something, and no matter what you do, you can't seem to fix it.

Will you ever get it back? Probably, but it's impossible to be sure. And even if you're thoroughly convinced that this is temporary, that still means you have to figure out how to live like this for the next week. Even small things can be huge difficulties. Your sense of taste doesn't seem that important, until you accidentally eat something that'll make you sick. And sure, maybe you can figure out how to live without one hand, but what about when you wake up three days from now and you've also lost your magic?

Do your best to keep yourself calm, but remember: it can always get worse.

► This log covers May 14th-May 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 your lost sense turns out to have been essential to your survival, please let us know here.

Comments

Atem.

[puzzlingly]

(ooc: Open and closed starters in comments. Will match format. PM or hit Atem's plotting comment if you've got questions or wanna plot something <3)

* * *
It starts just like any other day, Atem stirs on his bed, and the first thing he notices is that it's not so hot today as everyday. The first thing that comes to his mind as a reason is that maybe Fear had moved them while he was sleeping-- No, there is something not right here. He sits up, feeling (or not) incredibly different. Weightless, even. He tries to not think about it, maybe he's just tired, but it doesn't feel like that...

He doesn't know what is going on until he looks down at himself, or rather, sees through himself... His eyes widen in absolute fear.

"No..."

No, no, no! This is not happening! He hurries to the bathroom barely noticing that his shoulder doesn't hurt as he hits the threshold of his room (he doesn't... he goes right through the wall...), nor that his feet do not touch the ground. He gets to the mirror and he swallows a scream. He cannot see himself. It is when he looks down at himself again, noticing that he not only is barely visible but that he's himself, the Pharaoh and not Yugi, that he's not stuck in the body that the Eye of Wdjat had gifted him, that he's bodyless and he's nothing but a ghost. Again.

Please, please forgive me | closed to the Kaiba bros(?) and Law

[puzzlingly]

「In his desperation, Atem finds the way to the Speakeasy anyway, he knows Kaiba would be there, they had a pending duel! He doesn't know how he makes it there, how he doesn't climb those stairs and yet, he's there. He sees them they are waiting... How does he let them know!?」

Kaiba--! 「Please look this way, please look at him! But the other doesn't see him, he doesn't even turn his head at him. He goes to his pirate friend instead, literally hovering in front of him, calling his name, but he looks right through him.

This is killing him. If only it wasn't so ironic...」

(ooc; feel free to skip me and interact with each other, be terrible. I'll toss Atem at you anyway at some point to scare the hell out of them!)

Kobra Kid | Danger Days | OPEN

[goodluckkobra]

[ Kobra can't talk. He doesn't know why or how, but he woke up this morning and he can't make a sound. It sucks because that only makes him want to scream, but when he opens his mouth to do it, all that comes out is near-silent air.

This sends him on what can only be described as a sad and desperate rampage, first kicking things, punching doors and silently yelling at anyone he can find in his house and then running through the rest of the city doing much the same. He doesn't think to use his device at first, because problem solving just isn't his best skill. He's a lot better at punching and kicking and yelling and he can only do two of those right now.

Once he's by the lake, he kicks rocks, he throws anything small enough to get his hands on, including drop kicking some empty cans into the water before he moves on to throwing bowling ball sized rocks into it. They make loud, satisfying ploops that almost dissipate some of his anger. Once his arms get tired, he lies on the ground beside it, ripping up grass as he silently screams up at the sky before eventually having a moment of curling up under a tree and crying.

By the end of it all, he's so drained that he sits at the side of the lake, shooting his ray gun at the water periodically and watching the steam rise up with a sullen look on his face. ]

[ OOC: feel free to interrupt him at any point on this journey ]

Text

[killthisparty]

[ Okay, that was. Something. This is a hell of a day.

After levels of overwhelming panic and confusion, things have half settled down and Party's priority is set on finding Kobra. He's...not so sure about going out. There's so much open space, and if he can't hear, he can't...he won't know if anyone's around, and the thought is making him sick already.

But still, he tries. Maybe he can get Kid to tell him where he is. Worth a shot, right?]

where r u
answer me

cecily trevelyan ; ota

[closerift]

may 14th - second spiral, 1502

[ She wakes just like every other day, only this is a day very different from the others. They'd been warned, more or less, that Fear was going to need energy in order to hide them a second time from the Null. Though the Guard - and most everyone else - had speculated as to what that might mean, no one could be sure what, exactly, what befall them, beyond fear.

Cecily yawns, tossing a bit before coming to. Hair brushes at her face and she moves to brush it away, but finds, in her half-asleep stupor, that the sensation persists. Frowning, she rouses a bit more, ritualistically flexing the fingers on her affected hand to press into the scar of the anchor before raising it again to move her hair aside.

It takes some time before she realizes why she is unsuccessful, realizes that there is nothing beyond her left shoulder. It startles her immediately from the morning daze, but her mind corrects things: this is a dream. Of course it is, because it's absurd that an entire limb might vanish from her body in a way so clean as to suggest it had never been there to begin with. Even so, as she clumsily slips from the bed and stands before a mirror, the Inquisitor begins to feel a rising tide of intense panic at the sight.

Her senses go entirely off-kilter. She half-stumbles into the wall, bracing herself with a free hand, body trembling. She wants to scream, but doesn't. This is a dream, she thinks firmly, even as she struggles to pull on a loose pair of pants, a shirt.

Pup is standing alert in the doorway, whining softly. He is worried for her in Cullen's absence. ]

You - didn't run off with my arm, did you...? [ She laughs breathily, eyes still wide with disbelief, and - yes - fear. Cecily swallows despite a dry throat and staggers out into the house, very clearly missing something and affected by its loss. Instead of calling out for her house mates, though, she slumps into a chair and stares at the empty air where her arm used to be, all the while tensing the one that remains. ]



may 14th - everywhere else

[ After she manages to accept what's happened, the Inquisitor makes her way into town. It's clumsier than usual, of course, and she doesn't have her bow slung across her back or a palm that pulses green. Rather, Cecily moves like a sleepwalker through the streets, body automatically taking her somewhere that will ease the anguish of having one of your limbs taken without warning.

It isn't long before she finds herself in the Speakeasy, and much earlier than anyone should be there, too. She settles onto a seat with a far-away stare and doesn't place an order, instead drinking steadily from whatever someone who takes pity on her might leave near her right hand. In the meantime, there are a lot of thoughts clamoring for her attention, all quite negative and awful.

Without it, what good are you? No ability to fight, let alone shoot her bow. She might manage a dagger in the other hand, of course, but it will be decidedly without grace or proper training. She's become an accomplished archer, yet the means of proving that are gone. More than that, the anchor has vanished along with it. The mark had been what identified her as the Herald, what had propelled her into the position of Inquisitor, what had made her who she'd become. ... Without it, she fell again into the Trevelyan daughter, destined for a quiet life in the Chantry, without any value to her family, let alone all of Thedas. It's jarring and disheartening to think this way, but the distressing realization persists loudly enough that she comes to believe it before the day comes to a close.

The last time she'd been without her arm, it had been because she had been injured trying to save Leliana. This time... what is there to show for the loss, beyond her own grief? ]

May 14th

[paragonbrosca]

[Pup is not alone in his agitation. From Aren's room comes a yelp and a loud thud, followed by worried canine whining. More crashing, and swearing can be heard as Aren stumbles to the door and throws it open. Barkspawn bolts out, with incessant alarmed barking as he looks for someone to make this right. Meanwhile, Aren is leaning against the doorframe, dazed as she stares at where her right arm should be and just...isn't. No wound or blood, or pain to go with that, it's as though her arm had never been. And yet her two blades against the wall and all her memories fight against what her eyes tell her. She swallows hard, trying and failing to keep her cool because what the fresh hell is all this.]

Where the fuck is my arm?? Cecily?!? Cole--Barkspawn, shut up and find them, please.

lup l may 17th l Open

[restinglichface]

i; words that kill, would you speak them to me.

[Waking up without her body brings a jolt of fear that Lup isn't at all prepared for.

It isn't so much being in her lich form that leaves the vague sense of worry coiling within her spectral body, it's more the how the fuck did this happen that eats her up. Is she missing time? Has her memory been tampered with? Did she do something that she no longer has any recollection of? The questions that run through her head are terrifying even in this form where emotion fogs around her, always blurry instead of the sharpness she's used to.

But it doesn't take much digging to put her fears at ease. There's no immediate answer as to why she's lost her body - Barry hasn't, which makes it that much
weirder - but Taako can vouch that she hadn't wandered off during the night or lost any real time. She'd gone to bed physical and woken up incorporeal. It's as simple as that.

So those first few days, Lup's just stuck in her lich form, a ghostly figure cloaked in red floating around town, often floating straight out of walls to glide right into other's paths.]

ii; with your breath so still, it makes me believe. (cw: Violence and Death)

[Besides not having her body, everything seems fine at first. Until it suddenly isn't.

"It's not you, it's me."

An afternoon date meant to be full of tender, loving glances and brushes of her spectral fingers against his fleshy hand turns into a nightmare instead. Barry can barely look at her. He apologizes over and over. He says he still thinks of her as family, just whatever used to be there is gone. Sixty-some years of companionship, months working back towards reconciliation. And that's all he has to say to her.

Everything after that is a blur.

The lich tears through the city with a scream, bolts of red electricity arcing off of her cloaked figure, striking out and leaving scorched marks anything it touches. Anyone who gets in the lich's way is certainly walking right into danger while she's like this, out of control and unable to be reasoned with.]

[OOC: If you want to plot, my comment is over here!]

i

[puzzlingly]

「Wandering is all he can do for now, he feels no hunger, no tiredness, it should be fine, but... it isn't, specially not when he realizes that leaving the city doesn't give him back his body. He's heading back... where was he heading backto? Why go home if he doesn't need to sleep? But the Pharaoh's ghostly figure perks up when he recognizes her in the dark, what happened to her? Why is she...?」

Lup! 「He calls for her, unaware of how his fear and anger could affect the surroundings, how his probably inaudible shout makes the street lights flicker. Can she hear him?! He doesn't know, so he goes after her.」

Lup, wait!

Kelson Haldane | Open

[kingforboth]

May 14th | Anywhere | Open

Kelson didn't realize how much he relied on his magic until it wasn't there anymore. Until he woke up and the world suddenly felt flat, there was no subtle definition of the heights magic could bring, no knowing information from a probe, verifying the contents of a drink, no subtle reverberations of the minds that lived around him.

He was trying not to panic. Slowly, Kelson did a check on himself. There was no telltale tingling in his tongue or limbs, no nausea, no blinding head pain. He could still move, talk, function. No, this wasn't merasha poisoning. His magic was just gone.

Kelson looked at the wine flask, and grabbed it, trying not to think too hard about what was in it, that inside was the very toxic substance that allowed his father to be helpless enough to be murdered. It was also the only way he knew of to test if he was still Deryni. If he could work up the courage to take a sip.

The young king bounded outside, as if hoping a change of scenery and some sunlight would help the issue, flip a switch and cause the world to be bright again. And there Kelson sat, picking a spot at random to sulk dejectedly like the teenager he actually was and never really got the chance to be, the leather tooled wine flask by his side.

He was trying not to panic, trying to work out what the possibilities were, but, there really was only one.

"...I'm going to have to abdicate. I can't defend my kingdom like this."

After May 14th | Anywhere | Open

Kelson wandered around, trying to get used to only having his physical senses, and he wondered how he could have thought he was simply human for fourteen years. He supposed in a sick way he was getting used to it, interacting with the world on what felt like a two-dimensional level.

"Nothing I'm trying is working...." Kelson reached up to touch the ruby earring, which had helped activate some of his powers.

"....I suppose I could stab myself again. But I don't even have everything I would need for the ritual here. Is it even safe, if I do it twice?"

He rested his head in his hands, and started to make a small gesture around his eyes, intending to banish his fatigue, a simple spell, and then stopped, remembering of course, he couldn't even do that. Instead, he reached inside his tunic to pull out the medallion of his heretical patron saint, and started praying to the patron saint of Deryni magic. Not like it would do much good. Saint Camber had always been rather elusive. He helped when he wanted too, not always when asked.

after May 14th, by the lake

[outofthefire]

[Laura woke up not being able to hear. she screamed herself hoarse trying to make herself hear something, but it was worthless.

she eventually gave up trying to hear and went to the shops to pick up a notebook and a pen. she'd have to use that to know what others were saying. it took a while and it was frustrating, but at least she could know what others were saying.

she can't hear Kelson talking to himself. if she could, she'd be genuinely worried for him. so instead she taps him on the shoulder, says "Hi" a little too loudly, and offers him the notebook and the pen so he can reply]

Kain Highwind | OTA

[dragonsgrasp]

[14th; on a building near you]

[Something felt deeply wrong this morning as Kain woke, and sure enough, it doesn't take long to find out what's amiss. He only has to step outside and try to jump to confirm it. He can't feel the sky or the wind like he usually does. It's as if he's been disconnected from a fundamental part of himself.]

[For the entirety of the day, Kain will be attempting to reconnect himself to his favorite element. This means he is climbing, everywhere and on top of everything, and might be encountered in a few different ways:]

[A. Glance out a window, and find him clinging desperately to the side of the building as he climbs it.]

[B. Go to one of the Gods' Temples, and find him mid-climb, struggling under the glaring sun.]

[C. Or find him standing on a roof, staring downward and pondering whether to jump.]

[15th-16th; anywhere]

[Patrolling around is getting harder, all of a sudden. Not being able to easily jump above to a better vantage point is the worst. But even worse than that is how hard it's getting to make his legs move.]

[It's so hard, in fact, that Kain basically knocks into the first person in his path, his legs giving out as he slams heavily into whoever it is. There's nothing quite like having a tall armored man fall on you, is there? Watch out, if you even have the senses for it!]

[17th; bridge]

[After a couple of days pass, Kain is getting the unsettling impression that his legs are only getting worse. Does this stop him from attempting to go out and about on his normal business? Of course not. Still, he's hobbling very slowly but stubbornly with the use of a cane at this point. His legs aren't exactly working as easily as they usually do. While he loathes that fact, there's no chance he'd be able to make it without that assistance.]

[Unfortunately, while crossing one of the bridges across the river, Kain collapses, falling right off the edge, so he's stuck clinging to the side. He's a bit panicked and has no choice but to swallow his pride and get some help, or risk falling in. Given his current state, he can't let that happen. But somehow he keeps his voice steady, not betraying the real horror going through his head.]

I- I may need... [I can't feel my legs, oh god why can't I feel them, why can't I move them?] ...some assistance.

[late 17th-20th; clinic]

[Kain is Not Happy. But he has no choice, he can't possibly function on his own at this point. That doesn't stop him from trying to get out of his bed, using his arms to more or less haul himself to a sitting position on the side of the bed.]

I'm not ill or injured, so I really shouldn't be here. Just... give me a moment, and I'll...

[He gasps and groans with the effort of trying to move legs that just won't work.]

16th

[paragonbrosca]

[Unlike Kain, there has been no steady progression with Aren and her own deprivation. She hasn't lost the use of her right arm, rather it's abruptly gone; only a stump remains of what used to be. Rather than just hyperventilate in the house, she's trying to put up a tough front while walking with Barkspawn, but it's a facade easier cracked than usual, when she only has the use of one blade and her whole fighting style is off.

All too aware of her vulnerabilities, Aren's racing mind doesn't take into account someone literally getting the drop on her until it's too late. Barkspawn perks up and yelps in alarm, but Aren only looks up just in time to see and fail to dodge the armored human hurtling towards her. Down they both go, with a pained groan and alarmed barking heard almost right after.]

Adam Parrish | open & closed

[unknowable]

open

[Adam has long since learned how to cope with being deaf in one ear. It helps that he's always been an observant sort, and so has managed to compensate by learning enough lip-reading to usually make it through the day. Just for those moments when someone is on the wrong side, or not talking quite loud enough. The rest of the time he manages by keeping people on his right side, asking them to repeat themselves (but not too often, because he'd rather people not know), or simply accepting that he won't always pick up everything.

So you'd think waking up completely deaf wouldn't be much of an adjustment.

You'd be wrong.

Adam has learned to rely on his tricks, but things that work when you can hear out of one ear don't work nearly as well when you can't hear at all. His lip-reading can't be supplemented with hearing half the words, making it easy for his brain to fill in the rest. He can't simply turn to be sure someone's on the proper side. It's gone.

It's more than that, of course - things he doesn't want to think about - but Adam, as always, focuses on practicalities. He heads to the clinic, because they probably can't help him but he can at least make himself useful there.

He's about halfway there when he's startled by the sight of someone rounding a corner, quite close - too close - with no warning they were there. He knows it isn't their fault, he knows he would have been able to hear their footsteps, but he didn't. He didn't hear anything. And that's... upsetting.]

Hey, watch out! You almost ran into me.

closed to ronan

[When Adam wakes up, he doesn't immediately notice. For the first few seconds, it just seems like it's awfully quiet today - which isn't a strange experience. When he sleeps on his right side, with that ear pressed into the pillow, he's effectively deaf anyway. So when he wakes up and can't immediately hear anything, he's not worried.

He yawns, stretches a little, and only then realizes something is wrong. There's no sound filtering in from his right side. There's nothing.

His stomach clenches. Surely he's imagining it - but when he brings his fingers up to his right ear and snaps, he hears nothing. Not a sound. Only the pressure of his finger and thumb, rubbing against each other.]

Ronan?

[He can't hear that, either, though he's sure that he's spoken. He reaches out for Ronan, next to him in bed. He's trying not to panic. He's failing. If he could hear his own voice, he would hear the tension in it, the barely-repressed terror.]

Ronan, I - something's wrong.

open

[toiletseat_girl]

[George woke up without the ability to speak. she's not frightened, she's mostly mad.

she already stopped by the shops to get a dryerase board and a marker and then heads toward the clinic, figuring she could use a little normalcy. and maybe she's not looking where she's going too well, maybe the near collision could've been avoided, but it wasn't and there's not much she can do about that.

she writes "Sorry, it was an accident," on the dryerase board and shows it to him]

Kat | voice -> action | ota (max 2 threads pls!)

[6weeksmax]

( ooc: prefer characters i haven't already threaded her with, esp if we fingergunned at each other on the cr meme c: )

May 19th - 20th

• the voice part

[ So by the tail end of the event, Kat is equal parts scared and restless. She's never done well sitting still for very long, so not being able to do basic things is uh, terrifying, to say the least. She's super glad Rosen is a doctor, because his knowledge has come in handy even if his taste in food is... not great.

Anyway, in lieu of text (which she prefers tbh) she clumsily sets her phone to voice and posts to the network: ]

Anybody free to keep a girl company?

• the action part

[ She'll private the part where she gives out her and the doc's address plus instructions on where in the house she is, and then she'll wait in her room downstairs. She's sitting up in bed, but man she is so not coordinated enough to make it upstairs on her own.

She hates this. Hurry up. :c ]

[inthewar]

[ If he could see, he'd come over to hang out in a heartbeat, but he doesn't trust himself to really be out there navigating terrain right now. ]

I'd come over and bring Scrabble if I could, but I'd probably break my fucking neck trying to get wherever you are. So this is gonna have to do for now. If you still want some company.

Caedra | OTA + Closed

[abyssalarcana]

Closed to Semiyon:

On a night like any other in Hadriel, Caedra and Semiyon are up late into the early hours, accompanying each other with idle talk and a few drinks at a corner table in the Speakeasy. It's nice, she has to admit, to have someone she can be relatively open with here.

It's dark, suddenly, and she narrows her eyes, looking around. "Did you see that?" she asks, as she turns in her seat. "The lights just dimmed."

Except they didn't, from the perspective of anyone else. The lights are at their usual level. And she leans to look out the window, confused - and watches as one of the other late-night patrons walks home into the night and out of sight not because they've turned a corner or walked far away, but because it got too dark past a certain point. And also, as Semiyon will notice, Caedra's eyes, once black, are now a stark white.

OTA: Spires, May 14

Once Semiyon has been returned to his home, Caedra has a moment of actual panic. She hid it as best she could up until now, but outside in the early hours of dawn, she stops where she is near Spire Four and just stands there for a moment. No, she hasn't lost her ability to move as her companion had. She's not truly blinded either; she can see, but only faintly, in the darkness. And as she tries to conjure her sword, hoping the green flames that flicker along the blade will help light her way, she realizes with shock that nothing comes. Her hand is held outstretched, and empty.

OTA: Around, after May 14

In time, the panic subsides and becomes anger. She knows by now this must be due to the creatures who think themselves gods. But for them to dare to do this, to strip away not just innate abilities of her race this time, but to actually further disconnect her from the gifts granted by her sureh feels purely malicious.

She cannot summon her weapon. She cannot see in darkness, cannot see through the disguises some of these creatures have adopted. Rather than becoming more cautious, she is put on edge and on the offensive. Those who have wronged her here, or even those who have barely slighted her, will suffer. So too might any who cross her path at random. But she knows better than to openly attack when her options are limited, and so she resorts to more subtle types of aggression. The first person to come across her will be hexed, purely because inflicting failure on others will lighten her mood. That hex can then be moved from person to person as she wishes throughout day and night, causing weakness and disorientation, sharply dropping intelligence or conversational skills, or whatever else strikes her fancy.

A few others, particularly Curufin and Damien will be so fortunate as to suffer from crippling nightmares. Curufin she hates; Damien she does not, but she knows his deepest regret and can't help but to take advantage. Will she inflict this curse on others? Possibly. Time will tell.

Post-14th

[nowherewolf]

Tucker's having his own problems over here, naturally. He's lost his human form, and the ability to shift at all. It's not that he's uncomfortable in this body, it's his after all, but the thought of being stuck in one shape for his considerable life span is, well, daunting, to say the least. It's like he's missing a leg or something.

In an effort not to panic, he's trying to keep to his usual routine, exploring the city, making his rounds, checking on the things he's stashed here and there around the city. Unfortunately for him, that route takes him straight into Caedra's path.

Ah, great. The last person he wants to run into when he can't speak or use a weapon. Aside from his jaws, at least. Maybe she won't notice him? He's pretty stealthy. But he's also a large black animal on a very sunny open street. Not ideal conditions.

Rey. | OTA

[circumitus]

I. Anywhere (May 14th-18th)

Panic and fear is the more common response when you one day wake up to find something missing. But for someone who so often has experienced ending up in strange places she hadn't fallen asleep at, this should be par for the course for Rey. That also didn't account for the fact that Sorrow did mention a fair warning that the city would need to be relocated soon and Fear would need a boost for it, and Fear himself was rather candid about this fact as well.

The thing is, it's not so much the fact that Rey was expecting something coming from a mile away before it even smacked her in the face. It's that she woke up and...

Well, she just didn't care.

Regardless of the predicament of others -- be they friend or acquaintances -- now devoid of their voice or limbs or some other important trait of theirs, Rey carries on her day as if nothing were the matter. Except the deep hole in her very being is cause enough for anyone to worry about her mental and emotional state. When she speaks, her tone is robotic, her expression unresponsive. She walks and sits herself in stiff and rigid ways. Her husk is as empty as a cracked bottle.

Not even taste gives her much joy anymore. Food and drink has become something more of a chore for her again. It's not that she can't experience the flavor, but she just can't savor it like she used to.

So she stops coming to the Speakeasy. Most of the time, she can be seen wandering, trying to find some way to just feel something again.

I. Camping (May 19th)

There are many reasons to be out in the desert right now. Maybe you caught that tiny glimmer of light somewhere on the outskirts of the city, a few miles away in the pitch blackness of the rare and brief nights. The smoke billowing from the sky throughout the dusking hours might be reason enough to draw attention.

Anyone who thinks to try and locate the source of the smoke and light will find a small encampment of one, outside a small cave-like entrance where a bedroll and large bonfire have been made. Rey can be seen just outside of the fire, her hand in the flames though for no matter how long, she doesn't burn. The fire is large enough that the flames flicker and twist even taller than herself, as Rey stares at the entrancing glow with empty emotion.

"Feels nothing," she mutters to herself.

Despite her best efforts, she is still hollow.

camping

[abyssalarcana]

After several days of this torture, Caedra resigns herself to having to deal with it. Maybe this is just how things are, now (hopefully not) but she's tired of thinking about it. Tired of trying to engage with these mortals, most of whom can never understand what she has lost.

Being unable to see at night still frustrates her to no end and she has resorted simply to grabbing a sword from the armory for now to fill in for hers. It's no real replacement though. The blade is duller, it's heavy and unbalanced, and - well. Lacking in anything she wants, really, aside from being something pointy to keep on hand in case someone gets too close. Everyone else here is suffering too and some of them are more aggressive about their losses than usual.

The one thing she has discovered is the flashlight function on the phone and it feels disgraceful somehow to have to use it, but she's not so proud as to leave herself unable to see. She would still rather be up and around in the darkness than stay at home alone. And so it's late one evening when she just keeps walking with no destination in mind, just going wherever her feet take her as she escapes the prison that the city represents to her. Out here, there's a light, she can see it from a distance - and feeling no reason not to investigate, she heads in its direction only to find Rey. At least the construct is familiar to her and hasn't been openly hostile.

Quietly, she sits by the fire and lays the sword at her side.

"What did you lose?"

Trafalgar Law - closed and open both

[hot_mes]

May 14-17 OPEN

[The sense of loss is subtle, Law definitely knows something is off but can't put his finger on what. His five senses as well as the sixth sense of haki are still intact and so are his limbs. It's not until someone at the clinic actually needs him to use his Devil Fruit ability to diagnose their own problems that it hits him.

The Room doesn't respond. He can't perform Scan to diagnose, he can't move or lift or swap objects, nothing works. It's a good thing he's properly trained in medical science or he might think he's become useless.

Stop in to the clinic to try to get a diagnosis or even treatment, if it's possible. Law will be around to assist, if grouchier than usual and slightly hesitant. He's keeping his panic on the downlow, but people he genuinely trusts may be able to coax him to talk about it. After all, finding yourself bereft of a power that should only die if you do really fucks with your head...]

May 17 closed to Michael (with cameo by Atem)

[before doing anything crazy like try to stop Lup, Law needs to perform an experiment to verify that his Devil Fruit really is gone. There's no seastone to touch, and technically no seawater either, but the still water of the temple pools should do the trick.

At least it's still hot enough that shucking down to his boxer-briefs isn't uncomfortable, though Law does so in the shadow of Sorrow's temple out of modesty. Stepping in up to his ankles doesn't do anything, so to really find the answer, he needs to submerge. One good dive puts him deep into the center of the pool.

His strength drains away immediately. It feels painfully familiar, the drag of his own body weight sinking into the water, his arms and legs too weak to even splash. It's a struggle to keep his head above water, treading or splashing toward the edge of the pool is right out. He can barely even take a breath to shout.]

Oi. Oi! Someone. Anyone. Oi! Help...

[the disembodied consciousness that may find him first won't be able to help. Hopefully someone can hear, before his panic spikes and works against him.]

May 18-20 OPEN

[Battling Lup without his ability was just dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Law hates himself for getting in over his head again, but he's not going to let a little bodily injury stop him from working.

He's back in the clinic, but with so many bandages holding him together, he's even less helpful than he was before. He can still patch up, stitch up, and offer painkillers, for patients. But, this time, Law will also need to turn to his fellow clinic staff to patch him up. Sure, he can change most of his own bandages, but he could really use a hand and probably won't ask for it. Catch him cursing his lack of Devil Fruit while he tries to get himself cleaned up and help him before he gets an infection.]

May 18

[abyssalarcana]

[Caedra's loss feels like torture. Rage might have claimed she knows nothing about Caedra, but one of them does. One of them must have hand-selected exactly the right way to hurt her, not with force but instead by picking at the already-damaged tie that binds her to Amamot. The boon she had been granted by him so long ago for all of her service is gone, and as if to salt the wound she sees the reminder every time she sees her own reflection with her now-white eyes. After a few days of dwelling on this? Honestly, she just wants it to stop for a little while.

Alcohol has never actually been her drug of choice. Laudanum, that's the stuff. Serves as an emotional painkiller just as well as its physical properties. The clinic ought to have it, right? It's a common medical aid, in her time. Surely she can threaten someone into handing it over and just escape for the rest of the day.

She makes her way there, opens the door, looks around. Sees who's in and raises an eyebrow. Maybe he'll be generous. He's one of the few who has been good to her so far and even she, heartless as she is, can appreciate that.

Though... he doesn't look well. Her question is put on hold in favor of a different one.]

What happened to you?

ota!!

[proselytise]

At first, it would be easy to think he's been spared. Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary-- still unhappy, still tired, still here. It's only clear when he leaves the shelter of his apartment that something is wrong.

It's not something he blames on the gods here; in fact, it's easy to assume otherwise. Things aren't good here, it's obviously going to take its toll after a while. He just wishes it didn't have to happen like this.

This world is swarming with parasites.

It was easier when they were just invisible, when it wasn't everyone here. Distorted faces, like they've all become monsters overnight. Not that they know it. They'll just go about their daily routines, and this will spread.

Until every single person is consumed by the disease.

He doesn't want to go anywhere, but he does. He'll force himself if he has to. Adhere to a schedule. Pretend everything is normal. Then everything will be fine.

He'll be all over the place really, acting totally normal. He might not make eye contact or anything, but-- well, not like he ever did that much anyway. You can also find him around the clinic, where he helps out. If you come by, don't mind him cleaning up after you touch anything, it's totally not personal!

[magician_king]

Quentin turns up in the clinic with a twisted ankle. He comes in, limping badly, looking disoriented and unhappy about a number of things. It's normally the kind of problem he'd try to solve on his own, except that he's also having trouble with one of his hands- in that it's gone. Has been all week. Most healing magic is two handed, so he'll have to deal with the sprain the old fashioned way.

"Hello?" He asks, from the doorway, a little nervously. "Hello, is a doctor around?"

Nico di Angelo

[hasadoctorsnote]

Closed to Will - Warning for talk of traumatic past?

When you've survived literal hell itself and survived being a prisoner of war right after it, it's not surprising that Nico has a few issues left over from that experience. He gets panicky being in tight, enclosed places, but the other big thing is the nightmares. He knows Percy and Annabeth can relate to those. Honestly, the fact they just have nightmares and didn't lose their minds from being in Tartarus is probably a plus.

Nico can usually deal with the nightmares reasonably well, having figured out how to control his dreams to steer them in the direction he wants them to go in, not be dragged along for a horrifying dream that may or may not have some basis in things that have happened to him in the past. Sometimes they're bad, and he'd be lying if he said he'd never had any where he woke up screaming from them. Most of the time though, he's got them under control.

However, today he wakes up and all he sees is darkness. In that foggy state between sleeping and being fully awake, he starts having a moment of panic, struggling to sit up and feel around to try and figure out where he is. The blankets get tangled up around him, and in his confused not-quite-alert-yet mind, he has a flashback to hands grabbing him and shoving him into that jar that was just barely big enough to hold him in it where he was confined for days and almost died from running out of air, making him panic even more.

"No... No!" he yells out now, thrashing around as he tries to get himself free from what's confining him.

Open to All!

Once Nico's calmed down after realizing this is just another event that the stupid gods have sprung on them and he's taken out his frustration on some poor chair that's a pile of smithereens now, having been bashed and hacked apart with his sword, he gives a mental 'screw you' to the gods and stubbornly goes outside anyway even if he can't see where he's going. He ends up using his sword - sheathed, of course - as a sort of guiding stick, sweeping it back and forth in front of him as he goes. Maybe you spot the kid tripping over a rock he misses and cursing or bumping into something and cursing. There's probably going to be quite a bit of cursing, in at least three different languages - Italian, Ancient Greek, English, and what the hell, he'll throw in the few Latin ones he's learned at Camp Jupiter too. He's definitely not happy with the gods right now.

Eventually, he reaches a point where he gets entirely fed up with bumping and tripping over things and decides to screw it, he'll deal with being tired and just shadow traveling everywhere. Short jumps will be fine, he tells himself, and he'll be able to better direct where he wants to go that way. He knows he can't go outside the barrier, so he's confident he won't run into any trouble of some creature sneaking up on him. He's still got his hearing and his powers anyway.

Nico tends to not know when enough is enough when using his powers though, so you might see him literally pop out of a shadow (hey, maybe it's even yours) and stumble a little woozily before he rights himself and blinks around owlishly, or you might even come across him curled up under some alcove of a building, his jacket wadded up and shoved underneath his head as a make-shift pillow while he takes a snooze on the ground because it was either lie down and rest or push through it and probably face plant into the dirt.

[yearrounder]

In a way, Annabeth is almost insulted that they didn't take anything from her (that she knows about). What, is she just not good enough or scary enough or something? She can fix that. They want scary, she can definitely do scary.

On the other, more logical, hand, she's very grateful that she doesn't have to suddenly learn how to live without like an arm or a leg or something. Or whatever else it was they were taking. It kind of seemed like it was all over the place. Whatever they felt like. She's honestly stopped trying to make the things they do make sense. They do what they want and everyone else is just expected to deal with it.

Not that much different from home, really.

And then Nico pops out of a shadow in front of her (that would be terrifying if she weren't used to it by now) and she automatically reaches out to catch him from falling. Either Will has her trained very well or she's learned to be ready for it. Maybe she should start carrying Gatorade too.

"Hey, Nico, hold up. Does Will know you're out here?"

Celebrimbor

[handofsilver]

He wakes in his bed, warm and comfortable despite the scars that are always aching. He has gotten used to that level of pain, at least, and he suppresses a small yawn, pushing back the covers. His sluggish brain soon registers that something is not...quite...right. The usual sounds he has become accustomed to are...gone. His first thought is that something has happened to the other residents of the house. Paling, he lurches to his feet and knocks over a glass of water on his bedside table.

It falls...and crashes...shattering on the floor.

He hears nothing. Blinking, Celebrimbor hurriedly dresses and leaves his bedroom at a quick stride. First, he walks through the house, knocking on doors and trying to see if anyone is experiencing the sudden lack of sound. Surely he isn't...deaf?

No, no, that couldn't be.

Later, he will set out, carrying a satchel of healing supplies. He is part of the Guard and he feels better moving. Whenever he sits down, the silence is overwhelming.

"Hello? Does anyone need help?"

Don't mind the slightly too loud Elf with good intentions, Hadriel. He just wants some solid distractions. It's either play hero or go bang on temple doors. The day is young; he might have time to do both especially if this lasts for a significant amount of time.

[bythewaves]

Celebrimbor will find his uncle... well.

Princes of the Noldor do not sulk. But there's not a lot of other words for the bard curled around his harp in the living room in a manner that screams that he's upset and grumpy, even if Celebrimbor can't hear the sounds that his fingers are drawing from the strings.

But he lifts his head as Celebrimbor comes in, reaching out for him with a question in his eyes.

(Perhaps tellingly, he doesn't even try to speak)

Cole | OTA | Where/When ever

[fadeling]

[It's immediate when it happens, and suddenly everything is too quiet. It's disorienting--enough so that he can't even keep track of where he is. It's eerily similar to the feeling he'd had when they returned to the Fade--trapped, tied and tangled to the ground. He's supposed to fly and instead he falls.

Hes barely aware of his surroundings and wanders, panicked and muttering nonsense to himself. He can't even escape if he has to--everyone can see him and he can't hide. What is he supposed to do now? He's already been deafened and he may as well be blind and lamed on top of it.

He can't stay in the house. The walls make it worse.]

I can't hear it, they took the singing. No voices, no whispers... Stolen and stuck in the silence. Bring it back. Bring it back.

[thelastjoy]

[The only person she's ever seen wandering around talking to themselves in such a panicked fashion is Party. It's what endears her to the strange man walking the street, that tenuous reminder of someone she loves. The teenager approaches slowly, a sympathetic look on her face. Her hands are up and out. She doesn't want to startle him into thinking she might have a weapon.]

Hey. [She keeps her voice soft, trying to move so she can look him in the eye.] Hey, you okay? You lost something? I can help you look.

Sansa Stark

[stonebird]

Let it not be said this morning is quiet! The slightly hoarse, higher-pitched voice of Sansa Stark will break through the peace of the dawn, repeating the same words to the empty air - and then - to her communicator.

"No, no no no!" she is far from her usual neat self. Her hair looks more like an untamed red mane, standing out starkly against her white nightgown.

"Can - Can anyone hear me - ? Is this...working?" her fingers fumble, though her blue eyes are wide. Surely she should be able to...see?

"If you are seeing this, I need help. I can't see." she forces herself to breathe, "Please tell me if this is just...temporary?" her expression falls, "Jon? Margaery? Maedhros?" she licks her lips, "If could tell me you are alright, I would be grateful. That goes for you too, Maglor, Fingon, Curufin and...everyone else, truly."

As inviting as it seems to stay in bed until this passes, she makes herself get up, feeling along the wall and various pieces of furniture as she goes.

[bythewaves]

He comes to her - he can't speak, after all. Scuffs along the floor to let her know someone is there, touches her hands to let her know where he is, lets her feel, to ground herself.

He's here.

Mokuba Kaiba

[blueeyesbond]

Open to all!

[Mokuba doesn't really notice anything is amiss immediately after he wakes up. He only notices when he gets to his feet and smiles at Hiryu, reaching down to pat the robodragon on the head and tell him good morning... only there's no sound. Mokuba frowns and repeats the words and even though he's pretty sure he's speaking, he... doesn't hear anything.]

Hiryu...? [He says the name worriedly, paying more attention to the dragon now, and notices... there's none of the soft and quiet mechanical noises the robot makes when it moves. It's just... eerily quiet and the more the silence lingers, the increasingly nervous Mokuba gets. He calls out louder this time.]

Niisama...? [Nothing. He can't hear his own voice. Is he even saying anything? He feels like he is but he can't be entirely sure, so he tries again, trying to be louder this time and not bothering to hold the panic back from his tone.] Niisama!

[Again, there's nothing. Growing increasingly upset, Mokuba runs out of his room and outside, not caring that he's still barefoot and in his pajamas, and looks around for the first person he sees walking down the street. Running up to them with a distressed expression, he grabs onto their arm to get them to stop.] Hey, wait! Wait! Can you hear me?!

[allthecards]

[There's nothing wrong with Seto's hearing, so he definitely hears the panicked cries. He's chasing after Mokuba calling his name, confused why he isn't stopping. Catches up to him as he reaches the street and pulls his around by the arm.]

What the hell?

[Way to give your brother a heart attack!]

Girl | Open

[thelastjoy]

14th

[Girl crouches several feet away from the lake, over a gathering of small branches and wadded up paper from library books. She's rubbing a stick into another, trying to start a fire. She has an experiment to try today.

Her cat had tried to claw her awake this morning and she only awoke when he started to yowl. She found the scratch marks but couldn't feel them. Then she cut her hand on a can she was trying to open for breakfast. She stuck the wound under running water, but she couldn't even feel how cold it should be. She couldn't feel anything. That's where the idea started.]

Maybe I'm a superhero.

[She mutters to herself, smiling as she gets a spark. Twice is a coincidence, three she can call a pattern. Heat is as good a test as any to find out if she changed over night.]


17th

[It's not fun anymore. The allure of superpowers wore off, leaving the stinging realization she can't feel anything. She can't feel the grit on her face, she can't feel the warmth of the suns above her, she can't feel the fur of her cat beneath her fingers. She misses it. She even misses the pain of skin torn from knocking elbows against the door frame or palms stung from near falls.

She hides behind one of the broken down spires, knees to her chest. She runs her nails over her palm, light enough it should tickle. She feels nothing. There are clean tracks on the dirt of her face that she'd deny if asked and she's sniffing too loudly to keep her place hidden.

It's not fun anymore.]

14th

[proselytise]

[ Although this fire would certainly earn her a merit badge in another place and probably another time...this is probably not the time and the place.

Charles thinks the firestarter looks vaguely familiar-- though certainly not in terms of facial features. A gaping void of a mouth, something moving under the red, wet skin (or whatever acts for skin)...

It's sickening, to be honest. ]

What's a superhero doing starting a fire with sticks?

[ He knows well enough not to force cheer into his voice; that's too obvious something is wrong. Just sound calm and casual. Normal.

The opposite of normal is happening, but that's fine.

If she answers, maybe he'll know for sure who it is. ]

Anakin Skywalker

[prophesiedone]

The five senses are vital - once even one is taken away, a person's entire existence is changed. However, in Anakin's case, a sixth sense has been ripped from him. He storms from his home, scowling as he tries to find a very important connection; a connection he has had since he was in his mother's womb. Suddenly all of that information and power has gone blank - almost as if it doesn't exist at all.

Raising both hands, he tries to lift a bench with the Force - what used to be a simple task. The piece of furniture doesn't even move an inch.

"Something new?!" he shouts, betting on someone hearing him - he personally hopes to gain the attention of the deities, "It's not yours to take or give! That belongs to me!"

His eyes have been remaining the Sith yellow-gold for some weeks now. With his rage, they flare, the color flashing like a flame. He knows what he will do with his power once it is returned - and it will be. But until then, expect him to be making a royal mess of some of the temples. He doesn't need the Force to hurl objects.

Anakin Skywalker

[so_dark_a_road]

Curufin is crossing the city and comes upon Anakin trying to throw a bench and radiating fury and frustration. It doesn't take much to perceive that the ex-Jedi was trying to use the Force and it has failed him. Curufin has been finding people who have lost senses, body parts, and skills all day, though he himself is not (yet) affected.

Those flaming golden Sith-eyes don't bode well for whatever gets in the man's way!

"Anakin? What has happened?"

[castintofire]

What Maedhros had lost was impossible to ignore or deny. He knew his eyes were open, yet all he could see was black. The world was silent around him.

Only memory remained, and touch. But how could he believe what he felt, without sight or sound? He shuddered, struggling to remain calm as memories chose to take him far away from the comfortable home he and his family had made in Hadriel.

Back to when he'd been bombarded with so many sensations. Pain, mostly. It was impossible not to flail out, desperately seeking for anything to hold onto.

[utulien_aure]

"Hmmph-"

Fingon grunted awake, shocked into consciousness by a knee in the side. What was going on, was this an attack, had someone gotten inside the wards-

"Maitimo?" He reached for a dagger carefully positioned at the side of the bed, but his attention was all on Maedhros. "Maitimo, love, what is it?"

alphys | ota (cw: depression thoughts)

[sciencelizard]

i. [14th] i need a laugh track played in the background so the silence could be drowned out

[Alphys wakes up on the morning of the 14th, and feels nothing at all.

This isn't horribly strange. There are some days Alphys wakes up in a daze, feeling bad about her life, that everything is worthless and she has no place here. But this is... different. Something feels utterly hollow, in a way that isn't just a consuming sadness. She pulls herself out of bed, changes her clothes, goes into the kitchen for breakfast.

To most people, this isn't strange. But to Alphys, this usually takes much more time- reading the network in bed, maybe getting distracted with an episode of a show, thinking about her worries for the city. This is strange. This is something she doesn't know how to quantify.

She steps out of her apartment into the sun, and looks at it, and when that doesn't work, holds her hand at her chest with her palm up expectantly.

And when nothing appears, she knows she'd be horribly, horribly afraid if she could feel anything at all. The Gods might lose out on her for a week- but the implications, the thoughts of this week, those will haunt her for years. So now she stands here, just staring at her hand, trying to think of what to do.]

ii. [15th onwards] it's like I've been conditioned, brain washed to be ashamed / if aliens existed here, i bet they'd feel the same

[She tries to keep busy.

In fact, she's actually better at doing things than usual, when she's not hindered by anxiety and depression clawing at her brain; she goes to the lab, churns through papers, organizing everything in her vicinity in a way so unlike her. Usually, she doesn't have the energy to do any of this, can't push past the nervousness to just get started. Now, everything is immaculate in a day or two, and the real issue sets in.

She's actually kind of bored.

Alphys can be found throughout the city- in the park and the lab sketching designs for something intricate, or in the Coliseum taking readings with some handheld device. She'll greet people, try to mimic her old self, but something's just not there.

Don't worry, everyone. She'd be as worried as you, if she could be.]

[ooc: Alphys' plotting comment is here, for further clarification on what's goin' on with her!]

16th

[unnature]

[Not only is Avisheh's intelligence gone, her sharp wit and perfect memory, but she is in a state of perpetually drunk to deal with it. She carries a bottle of cider -- unspiced, but she can't figure out why it tastes different from home -- and stumbles around, leaning on her cane moreso than usual for support. Normally, her cane is insurance, but now it's simply a lifeline.

Oh, the park. Parks are nice. Maybe she'll feel less awful if she touches some grass. They say going outside cures depression, or whatever, and Avisheh doesn't think twice about that stray thought, whether it was sarcastic or horrifyingly not.

She spots a lizard person -- how nice, a unique individual, and apparently a creative one, as they seem to be sketching something.]

Heyyy.

[Avisheh points with her bottle at the notebook in Alphys' claws.]

D'you draw that? It's-- It's good. What is it?

Maglor

[bythewaves]

It might have been kinder, if he had woken - but he was awake, wandering in elven reverie in the manner of his people, singing softly to the stars, when his voice cuts out.

I - the song is silent

There's only the briefest moment of panic (so sorry, Fear) before dull resignation sets in, but any early birds up before the sun and who pass by the garden might notice the elf in the tree who chokes and claws briefly at his throat, the almost silent song that permeates the place only noticeable by it's abrupt absence. And then he sits up, wrapping arms around himself as if in pain, although he does not weep.

II - in the silence, heard

When he comes home, there's no trace of either fear nor sorrow, but those who know him well will recognise the dull emptiness in his eyes. He curls around his harp in the living room, the tunes plucked from it best described as... well. Sulking. He's more cross than sad, and more sad than afraid, but Maglor can speak with the strings as well as he can with his voice, at need.

III - WILDCARD ME

1. bb noooooo

[swiftlet]

It's never the same as a morning in Forever, but in some ways, maybe that's a good thing--there's nohar down his throat trying to force him to his desk, anyway, and he will certainly take advantage of that as long as it's offered. And the mornings are a tie he can have to himself, when he doesn't have to be anything for anyone.

Until he finds a friend, anyway, and he certainly seems more like he could use some of the help that he'd given Swift in the past. He's cried on him too many times to let him be alone with whatever it is that's upset him.

"Maglor?" he calls up softly, trying not to startle him. Maybe he already knows he's there, he can't really be certain anymore what anyone here can do. "What happened? Are you alright?"

taako | ota | 17th onward

[pocketspa]

[For once, Taako doesn't actually feel like talking.

Usually, the elf is plenty exuberant, cracking jokes and tossing insults like it's his job. But not now. Not after this-- everything, this crushing weight of it all. His sister is dead, and he wishes he had a way to stop caring.

He can't go home, certainly doesn't want to step into their shared room and try to live. He can't go to his boyfriend's, not after (even necessary) steps were taken to stop her. He doesn't want to go anywhere, be anywhere without her, but he doesn't have a fucking choice. He tries to tell himself it's just like another cycle, that he should be so thankful it's not going to be months on end.

He doesn't. Taako just feels it, the pain in his gut, the hurt that won't go away until she's back in his arms.

So he moves in to Hope's temple. He's got a blanket, some food and water, and has carved out a corner for himself. Someone passing might see him, or note he doesn't look quite right as he tries to obscure his face with his wide-brimmed wizard hat- as if it means anything at all right now, his magic gone too. He doesn't engage, won't seek people out. But he's gonna wait. She'll be back, and he'll get his magic, and maybe he'll find some purpose in it all. If you've ever wanted a straight answer out of him, now might be the time to get it.

He just needs to hold out a few more days. And another one of this city's nightmares will be over.]

[hellosirs]

[ Hey, if Taako doesn't feel like talking, they don't have to. Angus can't talk at all right now, which might make this easier, depending on how inclined Taako is to fill in the conversational gaps. He shows up at the temple on the 18th, carrying several pillows that have been bundled inside a blanket, as well as a backpack full of snack food. Angus stayed here for a few days during the Null invasion, and knows from experience how uncomfortable sleeping on a stone floor can be... especially when you're alone, scared, and feeling miserable.

Angus sets down the makeshift bag full of pillows, opens up the backpack, and nudges it towards Taako with his foot before sitting down beside the elf and curling his arms around his knees. After a moment, he takes out his phone and taps out a message. ]

😟❓

[ How're you doing? ]

avisheh razi ( ota )

[unnature]

CLINIC

[Something feels... off. Avisheh wakes up, blinks at the world around her and doesn't feel as if she has a place in it.

Maybe that's normal. She did just arrive here, after all.

She forgets her cane at first, but stumbles a few times on her way out the door after she's prepared for the day and realizes something's missing. Right. She doubles back and gathers the cane, suddenly remembers her bag as well, and heads off for the clinic.

Someone had posted some warning about Fear moving the city. About him needing power. Avisheh can't really connect the dots, but she should probably watch out for that soon. She has a completely blank look on her face when she staggers into the clinic, still feeling entirely off-balance in ways she can't comprehend, and she takes a seat in a rolling chair so she can be off her feet.

She realizes, suddenly, that she has no idea what any of these tools could possibly be for. They're familiar, but she grabs a sphygmomanometer in alarm and squints at the gauge. This measures something, right? But why? Experimentally, she squeezes the pump and watches the gauge spin. She can't read this. It's all just a bunch of numbers, dancing on a round face meaninglessly.

She gently places the sphygmomanometer down and folds her fingers together against the counter, resting her chin behind them so that only her wide eyes are visible, directed at the various supplies in the room.]

What the fuck.

[Stubbornly, she refuses to leave. She's going to figure this shit out just like she's always done. If she doesn't know how to do it, she can learn. That's the way it's always been. That's the way it is now.]

SPEAKEASY

[Eventually, she is forced out of the clinic after performing enough malpractice to successfully tarnish her reputation forever. She doesn't even bother going home. She wanders instead. Eventually, she finds herself following the fairy lights set up leading a path to the Speakeasy.

Good enough for her.

She has no energy left in her, and she stumbles in through the door and behind the counter, digging around for random spirits. She can't remember any mixed drinks but that's really not what she's looking for. She pulls out vodka, whiskey, and rum, and just pours it haphazardly into a beer glass.

And she chugs the damn thing.

She continues drinking various forms of alcohol over the next half hour or so, until she's just completely fucked up and sprawled on the counter face down. Muffled, she speaks into the wood.]

I'mmm the most talented goddamn wo-wo-- person in this, ffffucking room. Fuckkkk all'a you.

[She points at a random person, perking up her head, arm shaking.]

What's a math problem. Give me a math problem, come on. Don't you-- Don't you know any math problems??

[magician_king]

P versus NP.

[Says Quentin, glancing up, because yeah, he's interested in math problems. He'd love to talk to someone about P versus NP-- but maybe not this drunk lady, actually.]

Why?

James Tucker | Open + Closed

[nowherewolf]

1. Around Town; Open

[Tucker wakes up as a wolf, which isn't, in itself, unusual. What's unusual is that when he goes to make breakfast and wants some thumbs, he... can't shift back. Now that he thinks about it, it's like Something is missing, some muscle he can't stretch, a phantom limb.

He's stuck.

Panic sets in immediately and he spends hours just pacing his apartment, trying to figure out what to do, if and who to call for help, how to fix this. It's got to be something the gods are doing, right? Which means it'll end eventually, right? He needs to take his mind off of this, stop freaking out. That's what finally gets him out into the city, after some awkward attempts to unlock his door.

Lots of people have probably seen him in his wolf form by now, either during the Null invasion or since. He probably won't get assaulted, he thinks. He hopes. Still, he's moving cautiously, trying not to startle anyone. Which is hard when you're a predatory creature that doesn't make a lot of sound. Whenever he sees someone close, especially if they're not looking, he huffs, hopefully alerting them to his presence, and tries to look more like a friendly dog than a stalking carnivore. He's just a... very big dog?]

2. Network; Closed to Harlan

gwkl[p
asijo sasw qwokd
caby rurb vacio,

2 ofc

[ghostlocked]

hayden where r u and how did u get jts phone.
take it out of ur mouth.