Event Log: All Or Nothing

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the All Or Nothing event
Where: All over the city
When: April 24th-May 2nd
Warnings: None

You woke up today and you just... weren't feeling it. Feeling what? Well, anything. Nothing seems to get you excited, but nothing seems to make you mad or angry either, so maybe that's fine. Maybe it's better this way. It's not like you can get too worked up about it, in any case, so you might as well coast through your day, incredibly chill.

But that's not how it is for everyone. Your best friend might be feeling the exact opposite - you said they look nice today and they started crying with happiness. You ate half their lunch and they tried to punch you out. Everything's heightened, for some reason they just have absolutely no chill at all. You don't get it, but it's not a big deal.

Unless, of course, you switch, and suddenly it's the biggest deal of all time. The idea of controlling your emotions seems like a myth, and it's time to freak out over everything, positive and negative. It's gonna be a mood swingy week or so!

► This log covers April 24th-May 2nd
► 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 things go way too far in either direction and you explode of happiness, please let us know here.

Comments

finn | ota

[bythehand]

[ This is, in so many ways, just the absolute worst. Finn does a little bit of dabbling in both ends of the emotional extremes pool while this particular dose of God Stuff is ongoing. It would be a lie to say otherwise.

If you catch him on the muted end, there's not a ton going on to speak of. He's just like... there. Wherever there is. Probably trying to do whatever he'd normally be out doing? That sounds like the thing he should be doing, so he's doing it. Hanging in his housing spire. Going for a run. Whatever. It's a pretty premium Finn experience, if by premium we mean very Stepford Wives and off-putting. Any day where Finn doesn't care enough to get offended by something minor and argue is a day for the record books.

The more concerning experience for him personally is the "everything emotions so much" end. Which, well. Finn is pretty wound up about life on a good day, let alone a day where everything's been dialed up to 10 and the knob is broken off. During these stretches, Finn transforms from a moderately-contained for the sake of functioning disaster to a real, proper disaster. He's spreading his wings and flying the way he was always meant to. AKA, if he's awake and existing and stuck in the all part of all or nothing, Finn is doing something. Literally anything that theoretically seems like it could occupy him.

He's scrubbing his apartment kitchen with a toothbrush. Laundry? Done. All of it. He's digging around in some of those abandoned buildings that he realized he's never quite gotten around to checking out yet. He's getting in maybe a little too much melee weapons practice while he has the time. We're talking more long runs, more exploration of this actual city and the jungle it's chilling in, more checking in on people that he likes, more dumbass risky climbing of shit that he'd normally have the good cautious sense to think twice about. Sleep is for the weak. Time to 200% this life, vibrate through a wall, and activate the secret physics glitch that will fling a person into the sun.

It's turn down for what for anything he can possibly jump on, because his long-learned secret to being screamed at by his own emotions is to stay busy and try very hard to pretend that they're not screaming. Absolutely grind himself down into a nub that once was human and hope that maybe tomorrow they will Stop. Because he is very in control of himself and his life!!! This is a tried and true method that has been honestly deteriorating on him since March. RIP Finn, actually did explode to death emotions-wise.

and basically feel free to hit this journal or comatoseroses for plotting! happy to write up closed starters, etc. ]

[deploy]

[Like commander, like soldier. On a normal day, John would be doing what Finn was doing. Right there with him. Keeping busy. Staying active. Running so hard and fast the worst of his fears and regrets can't keep up with him. Anything to get away from that crumbling cliff threatening to send him over the edge and into a deep, dark spiral he can't claw his way back out of.

He misses his job. His purpose. His city, so beautiful, and so damn needy he has every excuse to keep sleeping/eating/stopping to the bare minimum. Atlantis is a fickle lover. She asks a lot from her people, and she's worth every drop of blood and sweat sacrificed in her honour.

Today isn't a normal day. John wakes up on his designated mattress, and his eyes and body are so heavy, he has to wonder if the group didn't prank him by stacking every other mattress on top of him. He opens his tired eyes to an empty room. Tangled up in threadbare blankets. Alone. Today he's the last one up and out. That in itself is unusual. John's an early-riser by military habit, automatically awake at the ass-crack of dawn.

Why does sleeping in feel like he hasn't slept at all?

Through some complicated flail of movements, joints popping and cracking, he rolls out of the pile and climbs to his feet. Everything hurts today. That much isn't a surprise, but usually he can push through it. Put one booted foot in front of the other like the wear and tear on his body is something he can buff and polish away in the armoury.

Today, he can't pull himself up by his bootstraps, because putting his boots on feels like too much effort. So he pads into the 'kitchen' on bare feet, and nearly trips over 1 Finn scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush.]

What the hell--

[John just barely catches himself on the opposing counter, shooting a look back over his shoulder so sharp he could've thrown a knife.

Momentary spike of an emotion both hot and cold aside, he squints out through the window at this train-wreck of a city with a scowl.]

What time is it? Why did no one wake me up?

[bythehand]

[ Oh, there he be. The John himself. Up and at them again. Finn forgot he was still over there, in the absentminded way of someone who had half a thought about it a while ago, but fumbled on getting back around to it in a timely fashion. But it's fine.

It's John. So it's fine. He's not someone to be nervous about. Unless today is the day he is. Everyone has limits. Some things are conditional even though people don't think they are. And that's ignoring the fact that one time John turned into a big lizard or something and tried to be feral in a cave forever, which is suddenly 4 steps higher on the concerns list than it was two seconds ago.

Finn pauses mid-scrub. He already regrets it. This is fine. They're both super chill. ]

Sorry. [ Reflexive 'sir'? Swallowed like a champ. He does rattle off the time, though, or his best guesstimate of it. It is, most definitely, late by the John Sheppard standard. ] Didn't remember you saying you had an early appointment to get to.

[ There used to be a time he had his days fully scheduled from wake-up to lights out, and his head would hit the pillow and next thing he knew, it was morning again. No time to think. The only thing here is grasping at straws over and over again. Waiting. It's the worst. ]

[deploy]

I don't. Smart-ass.

[John's schedule is open. Vacant. Empty. Non-existent. He has nowhere to be.

And it's crushing him. At least in Riverview he had a job. Could keep busy when the anxiety/pain/loneliness/depression strikes and ride it through whatever mission he's doing, because when John works he is focused. His mind on the job, his people, and getting in and out without losses. There's no room to wallow on the battle-field. If you want to throw yourself a pity-party, you have to do it on your own time. Off the clock.

Which is why John is always on the clock. Day in, day out. Rain or shine.

Except for today. Make that this entire week.

God, he hates it here. Hates himself here. Who is he without an air-frame to fly, or a city to protect? A fucked up, lonely, black-mark of a man with nothing else to live for.]

You want some coffee?

[His voice cracks on the offer, because coffee used to mean something back in Riverview. His team in their broom-closet of an office, Chyler filling out paperwork, Finn organizing files, and John arguing with the higher-ups over email to get the provisions they need for their next reconnaissance mission.

For all that they crammed themselves in their day and night, working their asses off with limited supplies and manpower, that was as close to happy as John ever was without Atlantis.

That, and... he who shall not be named. Who isn't here (John refuses to call this place home) right now, and is probably avoiding him. John can't blame him. He's doing the same damn thing.]

You've got your choice between freeze-dried jet fuel, or freeze-dried engine oil.

[volitaunt]

[ The first day Poe comes home without an emotion to his name is one of those days when Finn is liable to be the first man on the jungle planet's moon by the sheer force of the energy he's pouring into scrubbing the grout of the kitchen floor.

Poe stands there peaceably for a little while, a half-filled bag of foraged goods in his hands, before stating the obvious: ]

I don't think there's anything left to clean out of there.

[bythehand]

[ Finn does not immediately dignify Poe with a response. He's busy being a cool dude. Very cool. His knees hurt. His shoulders are stiff. He's been slowly running into the realization that this isn't helping. Some sinking feeling that came in like skipping a beat, and left him still trying in some vain hope that the effectiveness would pick back up again.

Hasn't yet. Very unfortunate gamble. He's still working on what he does if he admits it, though. If Poe's here, at least there's something else in the vicinity to focus on. Poe sounds okay? Poe sounds maybe the most legitimately calm and reasonable he has since this Hadriel thing even started. It sets Finn on edge.

Probably not any more so than he already was, in theory, but he notices. Everything is easy for people to deal with unless the person is him? Is that his life lesson? That he's still always going to be on the outside? He has that on retainer as a possibility now that he's had the thought. ]

That's why you're not the one down here. [ Curt. For lack of a better word. ] I'll know it's done when it's done.

[ He said, like a liar. ]

[volitaunt]

[ Poe sets the bag down on the counter, not arguing, which pings him as odd, but that sense of oddity is as dull and distant as his concern that he didn't actually bring back enough food to last them the week, between the four people here. Yes, there are the ever-present MREs, put they're all well aware of the kinds of problems that can come from a diet of nothing but freeze-dried pasta.

He contemplates that for a moment, staring at the bag, and then turns away to look at Finn again.

A distant part of him knows he should be worried, that this isn't normal, even for Finn. But as soon as the thought registers, it starts to fade. Poe frowns, focusing on it, trying to remember why it should matter, what he should feel, but the peace of apathy slowly catches him up again. ]

Do you want some help?

dabs in here very late

[pocketspa]

[See, like, not having emotions for a bit really sounds great until it's happening. Taako knows apathy, knows hopelessness, and this all just kind of feels like the void. He's used to existing that way, sure-- it's nothing new-- but when he doesn't even have the energy for something to suck, he has to start expending energy just to not feel bored. Emotionally, he's about over it.

But what he does do is get out, looking for entertainment, when he sees Finn just going feral up a fucking tree, and has to blink once or twice just to confirm he did Actually See that.]

Sooooo. What is this. What is happening here. Are you gonna say it or do I have to guess.

[It's the mood of the... week, probably.]

dabs back in the ceremonial manner

[bythehand]

[ Finn doesn't often get to be the one going full feral. He prefers not to be the one in a friend group going feral up a tree if he can help it. It's not a good look for his self-restraint.

This is a time of dire straits. He feels like he's about to lose his entire damn mind. This is the worst place he's ever been in his life, ever, and he will definitely think that forever. ]

-- I'm in a tree. Seems pretty self-explanatory.

[ Dignified. Not at all shitty at the climbing of said tree. ]

Ah Yes, Perfect

[pocketspa]

[Taako isn't convinced Finn has any self-restraint and hasn't since the day he showed up. The man ran headlong into a bunch of scorpions with only a Fire Shield, and Taako's pretty sure that he would have done that without any kind of magic barrier. Don't think he didn't see Finn doing the weirdest tango ever with half a fruit bowl at his party two weeks ago either. The guy's just Out Here.]

Self explanatory for what? Just oh shit, gotta get up that tree? Like look, I get it, sometimes the little animal brain in your head is just like do this dumb fuck and you decide stopping sounds like shit but that's still not an explanation.

[Not that he cares, but him @ him, go off I guess. He's always been incredibly good at saying words for the sake of words.]

Deputy Pratt || OTA

[theweakhavepurpose]

Pratt is normally a twitchy, emotional basket case. But not today. Today he feels... well... hollow. It's not a bad feeling honestly. Everything had seemed to be getting a bit much and it's kind of nice to think about things without getting worked up about them. Not that anything much matters to him right now, but being able to think rationally without the cult nonsense hammering down his brain is really nice. Calming even.

Is this what Jacob was talking about? When you get to a point of clarity and strength and you no longer need to feel emotions?

Huh.

Maybe he was right about all that after all. He'd been right about a lot of things Pratt is now realizing. Which should worry him, or make him angry. But instead he just files that away as a thing that has occurred and now it's time to move on.

This is wonderful.

Pratt can be found tending his garden by his house where he's digging up what appear to be turnips and collecting them in a basket. He'll also be at the range tending to his fence and training dummies that are mildewing in the humidity. Feel free to encounter him around town walking to wherever!

garden

[unphase]

[Tinya has been infected by the opposite, where she feels everything incredibly strongly. and one of those things she feels is love. platonic love, yes, but definitely love.

so she flies on over to Pratt's house, wearing another white sundress and goes in to give him a hug]

I love you. I've told you that before, but I just wanted to make sure you knew.

[theweakhavepurpose]

[he was totally unprepared for that hug. Where he would have normally backed away and made everything awkward, instead today he does... nothing.]

I remember.

[he doesn't hug her back, but he also doesn't push her away.]

You told me, and I said you really shouldn't.

[No emotion, he's just reciting facts of events that happened in the past.]

[unphase]

[so she continues to hang on and smiles brightly up at him]

Good.

[clingclingcling]

I know you said I shouldn't, but I do anyway. You're one of the very best friends I've ever had and I'm so glad I know you.

[all the emotion]

around town

[roseofthetyrells]

[Margaery's emotions, usually so tumultuous and strong, feel rather . . . mild today. what sense is there in getting fussed up over something you can't change? her father and brother are dead. her house is almost dead. she's depending upon Daenerys Targaryen to avenge her and all those that have suffered at Cersei's hand. but.

why be so bothered by it here?

she recognizes the man from the bonfire, the one who'd put it so perfectly the way that people chose to follow Cersei and she goes to greet him]

Greetings, ser. I wanted to . . . thank you for the insight you shared a while ago.

[theweakhavepurpose]

Oh?

[he turns to nod politely at her. He's not sure entirely what she's talking about. He didn't feel like he was very insightful, but he also couldn't find it in himself to correct her.]

What did I say?

[roseofthetyrells]

Yes.

[her mind feels clear, clearer than it ever had before. once, she told the High Sparrow that she was no longer driven by the desires that had led her before in life. she lied. but now, she feels free of desires of any kind]

You said that fear is a powerful motivator and love is more abstract. And it's true.

Poe Dameron | OTA

[volitaunt]

OTA

[ It descends on him all at once. One moment, he's grinning to himself while he monkeys his way up one of the trees outside of the city, the next moment, he's got a coconut-like fruit in hand and tide of calm washes over him. The small joy that comes from the jungle gets wiped away.

All his worries--about Finn, about Rey, about John, about Hux, the future of this city and its people--go muted and distant. He stays up in the tree for several minutes, confused but relieved in some abstract, half-felt way. 

Over the next few days Poe stays utterly tranquil. After the first day it stops bothering him--it's too much effort, caring about something that seems less and less relevant. He does the chores he's set for himself, makes the rounds to check in with the people he usually checks in with. He goes to the stores, goes to the range, does all the little things that have become a part of his routine. 

And then on the third day, he just stops.

He finds a bench in the park, sits down, and stares contemplatively into space and tries to remember why he did all those things to begin with. To keep busy? To keep from thinking about the Null? Both, maybe. But why? ]


For John Sheppard

[ For someone who's high-key emotional at the best of times, waiting up calm from a nightmare is... odd. He can't even remember being afraid as he dreamed, though it's one of the ones that gets him every time.

Kylo Ren in his head, forcing him to take a blaster to the people he cares about, one by one. Executing them all as they kneel in front of him in the hangar of the Finalizer, pulling the trigger over and over again while wearing a First Order uniform. 

Kylo Ren in his head, whispering How does it feel to be a traitor?

It's one he usually wakes up yelling from. Poe eases himself out of the tangle of mattresses and blankets, trying not to wake anyone else up. He knows that they're probably awake anyway, that they'll just lie there quietly until sleep returns, but it's still good to be courteous. 

He feels so odd. 

John is awake too, it looks like. He's in the kitchen anyway, and Poe thinks he should probably feel... something, about John, about the fact that he's there within reach and so far away at the same time. What he feels instead is tranquility. An overwhelming sense of calm. ]

Hey. [ Poe keeps his voice quiet as he enters the kitchen, going to pick some fruit from the bowl on the counter. When he looks at John, he stops, feeling a twinge of longing that quickly smooths away into that calm, like a pebble flicked into a pond. He can take in the man's face, his beautiful eyes, those ridiculous pointy ears, and he feels nothing. No embarrassment at the possibility of being caught. No pained love. 

So odd. ] Can't sleep?

Range

[theweakhavepurpose]

[Pratt is at the range as well. He's taken apart one of the training dummies and is diligently restuffing it and putting it back together. There's not really a point since it will be destroyed soon anyway, but there's something in him that mechanically goes through the motions anyway. Maybe to give himself some time to think about all the stuff he's been shoving to the side. It's odd to be able to think abstractly about all that. Oh, he killed some people. How about that. The memory as unimportant as the memory of when he bought a couch.

There's a part of him that knows this is strange, but an even larger part of him embraces it. It's nice to not feel terrible about everything all the time.]

Morning.

[Not good or bad. Just a statement of fact.]

Training?

[volitaunt]

[ Poe lifts one shoulder in a shrug. He thinks he probably should be training. They have a war to fight. There are people who need protecting. Instead, he wanders closer to Pratt, holding one of the dummies in place as the man restuffs it. It seems like the nice thing to do. ]

Was going to. [ Now that he's been derailed from that particular plan, though, it doesn't seem nearly as important. ]

[theweakhavepurpose]

We probably all should be. There'll be an attack eventually and we're not ready.

[They're not ready physically, emotionally, mentally, in any way. But right now he can look at it all objectively, consider their probably failure with detached ease. Strange.]

Do you think we'll survive the next one?

park

[madamdirector]

[ For Lucretia, it's the opposite. She's felt overstimulated all day, emotions pingponging between elation and despair, fury and fear.

At the moment, she's consumed with excitement, hurrying along the path without paying attention to where she's going. In fact, she's not watching her step at all, her eyes glued to her journal as she scribbles madly. She has so many ideas all of a sudden - things to sketch, things to research, strategies for fighting the Null - and she doesn't have the patience to wait until she gets where she's going to write it all down, or even to stop and finish what she's doing before she takes off again. She's just so eager, and the idea of waiting - for anything - is completely foreign at the moment.

So, you know, it's her fault when she trips over Poe's outstretched feet and tumbles to the ground, her pencil and journal going flying. She cries out as she catches herself on hands and knees, then snaps her head back to look at Poe, glaring daggers at him. ]

You tripped me!

[volitaunt]

[ He looks down at her, the vague surprise that blossomed when she tripped over him fading softly into nothing. Habit makes him get up to offer her a hand to her feet. ]

Didn't mean to.

[madamdirector]

[ He gazes down at her, so apathetic and uncaring that she feels her spirits sink immediately. When he offers a hand to help her up, though, she just stares for a moment. And then tears spring to her eyes, slipping down her cheeks.

Once she gets over Moodswing City, she's never going to be able to look him in the eye. ]

Thank you. [ She sniffles, wiping her eyes as she takes his hands and gets up. ] It's all right. I forgive you.

akira kurusu | ota

[jocoeur]

CON-FUSION.

( where ever you may run into him, akira is looking like a complete mess. every once in awhile there's a— ) Hic... ( from the poor boy as he wipes at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his blazer... but that doesn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks all the same. )

Yusuke... Everyone... ( he's muttering the same sorts of things between his sobs— ) I failed you all I— I'm so sorry...

( and this is about the time he falls to his knees, curling up in a ball. right in the middle of the walkway to... cry. )

TRANQUIL-IZED.

( well if you happened to come across him earlier, you may find a very different akira today. he's quite stationary today it seems though, simply staring up at... nothing in particular, if you were to check it out before approaching him.

apparently whatever had upset him earlier has either left him all cried out, or he's simply accepted it. even without that familiar glare of his glasses, his eyes are quite glassy. unfocused, even. but none of that matters, because... )

It's okay because... I'm dead.