Event Log: Extinction V.2

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Extinction event!
Where: All around the city
When: July 22nd-July 29th
Warnings: Fighting, the cruel slaughter of innocent monsters who definitely don't want to eat you, wholesale destruction, and maybe some painting

On July 22nd, Hope puts the call out for a little help with this monster problem he's been having - for the second time. In exchange for some prizes, he'd like you to go into the caves and kill him a few monsters! He'll be keeping an eye out and rewarding you for each kill, so grab a friend and a sword and get to work. Just try not to get lost in the caves - they're pretty extensive, and no one seems to have a decent map. Also, you know. They're full of slavering hellbeasts.

If you're not a fighter, don't worry! Hope also wants to clean things up around the city a little. There'll be caches of cleaning supplies, tools, paint, and other various piece of beautifying equipment available to find in the shops, and he plans to reward people for the time and effort they put in there, too! His sense of artistry is not particularly advanced, so don't worry about impressing him. You'll probably get an A for effort regardless.

For those characters participating in the beautifying portion of the event, please comment here with a brief description of what your character will be doing - for example 'painting three buildings and cleaning up the roads around the clinic'. If your character will be killing some of the monsters, please comment here and let us know how many they've taken out - for example 'three cacodemons and one troll'. For reference, here is a list of the amount of each monster that can be found in the caves:

Monsters Bereskarn (10 1) Blobs (3 1) Cacodemons (14 0!!!) Coeurls (4 0!!!) Deathclaws (6 1) Hunters (1 0!!!) Malboros (9 1) Mimics (11 4) Rodents of Unusual Size (15 0!!!) Skulltulas (12 5) Smokers (5 0!!!) Taxxons (8 2) Trolls (12 1) White Walkers (2 0!!!) Wraiths (8 6) Yeti (2 0!!!)

► This log covers July 22nd-July 29th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you happen to lose a monster fight or accidentally drink some paint, please notify us of your death here!

Comments

CHECK-IN

[hadrielmods]

MONSTERS KILLED

[hadrielmods]

Report your monster-killing stats here to receive prizes!

the inquisition ; closed

[closerift]

[ The first time, she had taken to the fight alone. Dorian and Thom had still been in Hadriel, they'd had enough for a party to sweep the caves, but she'd gone alone. Stupid, maybe, considering she'd been a month out from a twisted ankle, but the Inquisitor is the kind of woman to be dangerously stubborn to prove a point (often to the chagrin of certain others).

This time, though, they'd gone together. The four members of the Inquisition who were currently in the cavernous city had somehow agreed to trek off and take out some of the beastly threats, despite the touches of tension between their number. Leliana and Cecily specifically nurture their unpleasantness, with the spymaster mainly seeming suspicious of a disgruntled woman with the anchor and an attitude.

They're trying, at least, she admits begrudgingly, silently. Cecily stops moving, still as an animal about to bolt, bow drawn within her hands. She glances to Cullen first, communicating silently, then glances to Cole and Leliana with her mouth flattened in a thin, careful line.

There is a malboro ahead, tentacles curling, teeth bared in a venomous, ugly smile. ]

HI OKAY SORRY I WAS DISTRACTED ;3;

[fadeling]

[It was tense again, now that Leliana was here. Cole could feel that without having to listen. Maybe this would help, though. If nothing else, it would give them a target that wasn't each other.

Still, he tried to be quiet, out of the way. No note and no notice. There wasn't a reason to aggravate things any further. But he was helping everyone else too, even if the monster in front of them was...odd. Too big and nothing like he'd seen before in Thedas. Not even in the Fade.

When he caught the glance from Cecily, though, he immediately faded into the shadows around them without a word, knives in hand. He knew what she needed, and he was best there.]

OTA, will match format

[solvethepuzzle]

It isn't out of a sense of altruism or even a desire for a reward from the gods that Near is out here. He really doesn't care either way. No, what he's really up to is a token effort to the community. He needs allies, or at least people to not actively dislike him too much, so making a show of helping out every now and then serves his purposes.

And painting seems like the option that requires both the least danger and the least heavy lifting. So here he is. In that usual ridiculously oversized coat that covers half his face.

He paints from memory, really, since he isn't the sort that has any artistic inspiration. And he winds up drawing from the experiences of the last place he'd been jerked away to at the whims of supernatural beings. Which means a wide variety of strange, conflicting landscapes. Mountains of pastel rock-candy, with blue humanoid figures attempting to traverse them -- humanoid figures with peg arms and legs and no eyes. What may or may not be a playground obscured by night. As close as he can get to neon hamster balls filled with . . . well they might be hamsters but could easily be some other kind of rodent.

And other things in similar nonsensical vein. It's all rendered rather imprecisely, childishly. And anything resembling a living creature has a bit of a creepy look. Nobody said that Near is good at this.

[truthvalue]

Souji's just passing by, really - sword in hand, on his way to meet Ichigo in the caves for today's round of monster-hunting - but something about a few of the paintings in this part of town catch his eye, compels him to stop and study them, and then it takes him a minute to realize why. He recognizes some of the places the paintings depict, because they're places he's visited, too.

The white hair is a good clue as to the artist's identity, oversized coat notwithstanding. "Nice work."

Amos Kamiya - OTA

[amos_moses]

1. Given free access to paint and buildings and actual encouragement, Amos is out happily providing bright and cheerful graffiti. He still has some spraypaint leftover from Delight’s first bash, and so he’s using that. His designs are a bit on the abstract side (in fact some might say acid-trip-esque) but most recognizable as various flora and fauna, with the occasional string of kanji worked in.

He doubts that the majority of Hadriel’s inhabitants can read the kanji, but it’s mostly decorative street signs. “Clinic this way” and “Rage’s temple this way,” things to help people find their way.

With a handkerchief tied to cover his nose and mouth, he’s cheerfully singing a J-pop song to himself, bouncing back and forth from foot to foot.

2. Amos is not much of a gardener, but he can at least put a plant in the dirt right-side-up. So that’s what he’s doing, grubbing about in the dirt with a small tray of...well, he supposes they’re flowers, though they don’t look like any flower he’s ever seen. For all he knows, he’s planting weeds. But they’re pretty weeds at least? Well. Maybe.

Every now and then he pauses to brush through the dirt he’s overturned, habitually looking for bugs or worms. There aren’t any and that still creeps him out a little.

3. Though he’s no strong-man, Amos is helping clear some of the streets, shuttling the debris off to one side or the other. He’s not working very hard at it, but he’s little and wiry, okay? And maybe a little lazy. Well, everyone has their faults, and who cares how fast or how much he does, he’s getting something done, with his little loads and careful rubble-arranging.

And his long breaks to perch somewhere high on the ruined buildings and play with the jabberjays or talk to passerby.

1

[prespangled]

He probably shouldn't be watching without letting him know that he's there. Steve doesn't for very long, just long enough to take it all in, from the song that he's singing to the strange murals. It's nice to see people happy in the cave for a change, truly happy.

His arms rested for a moment, Steve picks up the buckets of his paint and walks over.

"Hi." He greets Amos with a smile, blue eyes going from his half-covered face to the can in his hands. "That's abstract, isn't it?" He looks thoughtfully up at the wall in front of them. "A little cubism influence?"

OTA

[somuchlove]

[It started with a Skulltula this time rather than a Froggit.

Coming here the question of whether or not they could earn EXP had been hovering over their head for the longest time. And then one of the Gods spoke on the network of killing the monsters. So it was the perfect chance to test it out.

They started as small as they could go. The spider, then a rodent. Nothing. Nothing changes.

* Still you, Chara.

They find one more. Perhaps that was the logic that had led them down this path. Just to see, one more. Another spider and by this point they knew how to kill it. Find a way to flip it over and stab at that soft underbelly. It takes a few rounds but they know how to wait. And yet, they're still LV 20. The EXP hasn't budged an inch.

So that answers that. There really isn't any LOVE in a place like this. Figures. They stab the now dead spider again, feeling...something.]

[casperdisaster]

[As a general rule, Noah doesn't go anywhere near the caves if he can help it. That's where the monsters are, and Noah doesn't have a death wish. Been there, done that, got stuck in his school uniform for seven years because of it.

Still, when his path took him nearby movement caught his eye and has him venturing a little closer. Still not quite going into one, but close enough that if he turns the flashlight mode on his phone he can see in a little. That's when he catches sight of Chara.]

Oh my gosh, are you sure you should be in here? It's dangerous!

[Chara's like... little.]

krieg - ota, will match prose or brackets

[fleshing]

Krieg's having the best time right now!!!

He's not one for building things - he can't make things, after all, only shatter them - so instead he sets about killing as many beasts as he possibly can. You'll see him wrestling a Deathclaw barehanded, his axe lying a few feet away, having apparently been disarmed at some point during the fight. Or you might catch him sawing open a mimic with ruthless abandon. Or you might even see him laughing uproariously as he sets himself on fire and straight-up charges a duo of Bereskarn with a roar of ecstatic, adrenalinized enthusiasm.

Either way, you're bound to run into this axe-wielding killer one way or another. If he sees you in a scrape, he'll dash over to help to the best of his ability.

[notjustinthemirror]

These are the Demon's favorite events honestly: things to kill, he doesn't have to think about shit and no one gets mad at him for getting blood everywhere. Everyone wins! Well except monsters.

"Heads up!" Literally. Here comes the head of an ROUS right at you. Batters up.

the Alcohol Demon || Open

[notjustinthemirror]

So the Alcohol Demon doesn't care about Hope's broadcast, or the promise of 'cave beautification' or whatever. What he does care about is free reign to kill anything he wants. Or more precisely bludgeon it to death with a baseball bat.

Currently he's taunting a mimic. Taking a few swings with his bat at that lolling tongue and too long arms and then teleporting just out of range so it has to move to follow him. Occasionally he appears behind it, trying to kick the lid of its chest .. er, well, head, closed. He's clearly enjoying tormenting it though.

[tongueamok]

While out looking for adequate places to put some potted plants (other than in his apartment; there are going to be plenty there by the time he's done), Carlisle hears a sound so familiar to him that it rattles him: the thud thud thudding of a mimic on the move.

He shoves his jars into his pouch, his hand gripping the bandage on his arm -- he remembers all too clearly when a mimic nearly bit his arm off just after he'd arrived in the city. His first inclination is to go home; of course it is. The mimic sounds far away, he lives at the top of a tower, and mimics are known for neither their speed, nor their prowess in stair-climbing. But as he listens more for the direction it's coming from, it sounds... as though it's going even farther away.

Curious. He shouldn't be curious, but he is. He listens longer, and the pattern repeats -- the mimic thud thud thudding closer, then thud thud thudding away. Is it... is it trapped? Is it going in circles?

Kicking himself for his desire to find out just what is going on, Carlisle follows the sound. He gets some answers as he rounds a corner just past the entrance to the caves. The sound echoing into the city is indeed a mimic, but it isn't trapped: it's going up and down the same passageway, back and forth as its tormentor keeps dodging behind it with short-range teleportation. Said tormentor is a frightening fellow himself, all appearances considered, but if he's in the caves taking care of monsters, surely he is doing it for the good of the city.

... Surely.

Carlisle watches another moment before deciding to step from his hiding spot, making sure the mimic is far from him before doing so. "Are you... are you going to kill it, or are you just playing with it?"

Firo and Muscovy | OPEN, throughout the whole event

[muscovy]

All over the city (well, except for the silent hill zone, the temples and the botanical areas) people will start to notice flower paintings on the walls. Mostly sunflowers, but others too, colourful and huge. ...Though none reach higher than 4 feet above the ground.

The reason of this can be gleaned when one encounters the team of brothers responsible for turning the city into a flowerful place: While Firo would be tall enough to paint taller flowers, it seems to be Muscovy alone who is painting them. He’s wearing a t-shirt that is way big for him over his regular clothes to protect them from the paint (and it’s needed, the t-shirt is already more colourful than it was originally) and watching him one would quite accurately get the impression that he is quite excited about doing this.

Firo, on the other hand, probably could not be described as excited. He stands a pace behind Muscovy, just watching him paint. The way he sees it, he's just here as a chaperone. Muscovy needs someone to make sure trouble doesn't find him, and Firo will nobly sacrifice his day to watching paint dry to do so.

And help carry the paint from one point to the next, because there is quite a number of pots to be lugged around.


[Prompt 1]

There is one downside to Muscovy being the only one painting flowers. One, no new ideas, and two, they never exceed a specific height. And right now he has spotted a part of the wall that is too high up for him to paint on it. Or maybe he just wants more people to paint a flower, too. Because it is nice to paint flowers.

So he turns around to whoever is walking by or standing there.

"You should paint a flower too, yes?"


[Prompt 2]

At some point, one of the paint cans surrounding Muscovy and Firo gets knocked over. ...And knocks into the one next to it. And the next one.

Watch out, or you may just get splashed with the paint.


[Wildcard!]


[ooc: Please specify if you'd like both or one of them!]

1!

[foundafamily]

It's not that Firo isn't glad to be spending time with Muscovy--he likes hanging out with the kid. He just might've chosen a different activity, personally.

Painting--especially flowers--is just unmanly. Ungangsterly. Firo already has enough trouble getting people to take him seriously; he can't start painting cutesy things. He certainly can't start painting cutesy things in public.

But the kid seems to like it, so what can he do? Stand around with his hands on his hips--keeping them in view means people can be sure he doesn't have a paintbrush in his hand--and only take on the tasks appropriate for a chaperone. Carrying the paint is good. That's manly. Standing off to the side and just chatting is okay too, as is looking over his shoulder every few moments to make sure nobody's watching them.

The question Muscovy asks is the one he's been bracing himself for. He smiles and tries to play it off. "Why? You're doin' just fine on your own."

Posting for the whole Saiyuki Crew!

[stepford_smiler]

THROUGH A GROUP EFFORT! Final blows to each monster made by:

Kougaiji: Coeurl (1) Wraith (1)
Hakkai: Blob (1) Smoker (1)
Gojyo: Malboro (1) Bereskarn (1)
Goku: Deathclaw (1) Troll (1)

Re: Posting for the whole Saiyuki Crew!

[hadrielmods]

Would you mind reposting this in the check-in thread?

Bianca | Open - especially for Castiel and Ichigo but all welcome

[wormintheglass]

Bianca knows exactly what this city needs, especially now that there's an orchard and gardening seems to be taking off. She has very little interest in plants, but the absence of pollinating hive insects in Hadriel has always distressed her.

So she begins to paint them. She starts with a queen bee above the door of her own house, and lets the swarm take shape in natural bee-dance fractals from there.

It's fortunate, she thinks, that the measured circles of Gallifreyan script are so like natural bee dances. It allows her to execute HOPE IS A DICK and similar sentiments in stately spirals of painted insects as she goes.

Hadriel: The City COVERED IN BEEEEES

[strangelic]

Bianca isn't the only one to whom the lacking of bees and other insects has caused distress. Castiel has even asked about them in his own way. So when, on his wandering, he discovers Bianca painting tiny bees on everything in sight, he's there with bells on, marveling at the circles, and the tiny painted insects, swelling with delight at the sight of them.

"Bees! Look at them all!"

Elmer C. Albatross | open!

[keep_smiling]

[Elmer's not much of a fighter, but he's all about helping with the beautification process. Painting sounds like fun, so he's taken all of the brightest colors with him to paint the apartments. Hope you guys like yellow!

Right now, Elmer is sitting on a window ledge two stories up, painting up high. Watch where you're walking, as you might get dripped on. He waves an apology down to you, though.]

Whoops, sorry about that! Caution: wet paint and all that.

[As he turns to talk to you, he bumps his ladder and it slides slowly for a moment before toppling over. Look out for that, too. Now he's stuck up there.]

Uh oh. Little help?

[crowboy]

[That just happens to be the tower that Corbin stays in that Elmer is painting. Which is why he's there to get yellow paint dripped on him in the first place, bright splotches against just as bright red hair. He looked up, only to get a drip on his cheek.]

Shouldn' be havin' to worry 'bout wet paint when it's that high up.

[Not that he seemed that pissed off, paint washed off.]

[But he has to laugh as the ladder falls over, nimbly skipping to the side to avoid it hitting him.]

Looks like yer in a bit uv trouble.

[He holds his arms out]

Jump, I'll catchya!

[It is clearly a good idea to trust that the lanky redhead can catch a fully grown man]

Sanji - OTA

[haute_cuisine]

{ A } Better Part of Valor

[ Sanji's still basking in the glow of victory, feeling a rush of pride that makes him characteristically cocky and self-assured in the strength of his kicks. In the smoldering wreckage that are his monstrous victims, he dips his head down and cups a hand before his mouth to light a cigarette. His face glows as the flame springs to life, touches and burns the end of his cigarette. He drinks in the familiar aroma, filling his lungs with smoke and then let's it whisper past his lips as he looks wistfully above him. ]

Nami-swan... Robin-chwan... If only you could see your knight now.

[ His eyes sprout hearts as a flush covers his cheeks, his tone suddenly losing it's cool steadiness. ]

Let's not forget dearest Perona-chan, or Lior-chan, Euphie-chan, Minako-chan, Ande--

[ He's really getting fired up! Sanji's frantic mantra and seemingly unending list of names worthy of such a sing-song, worshipful tone comes to a total halt when down drops from the ceiling an enormous, jittering spider with a skull emblazoned on it's fat body.

It wiggles. It rattles. Sanji feels the heat and color drain from his face. ]

AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

[ So much for heroics. The man issues a high, shrill shriek as he starts booking it as quickly towards what he hopes is an exit as humanly possible -- and maybe a little faster. If anyone should get in his way, be prepared to either get run over or climbed on as the Strawhat cook expresses what is clearly pants-wetting levels of fear over a spider.

Can you really blame him though? Skulltulas are terrifying! ]

{ B } Beautification Beauties/Browning Beasties
(Couple of options here. CW: sexism /sob. ALSO NOTE: For those who can convince/are willing to accept Sanji's help with the beautification project, his reward will go to them.)

[ When the pirate isn't off hunting monsters (or in the case of giant creepy crawlies... running from them), Sanji's got to return to the city to rest. Returning either empty handed or dragging behind him a thoroughly dead (and perhaps lightly sizzling) monster, he's likely to run into others on his way through the city. He intends on using these on culinary experimentation - not just for whatever nourishment he might be able to coax out of tough ligaments, sinew and thick bone, but how to make it palatable. Perhaps the sight of this blond man rolling up his sleeves to butcher and cook monster corpses or dragging them to his destination grabs your attention...

Or maybe he gets distracted along the way. After all, all it takes for this self-professed slave to love is a pretty face. Any lady he sees toiling away in the beautification effort in the city will instantly have a very persistent offer to relieve her from her burden or chore and perform the work on her behalf. Sanji swoons and sways in some sort of pirouetting dance, sweeping to a kneeling bow. ]

Mademoiselle, it breaks my heart to see you working so hard...

[ From the spiraling shape of his brows to his bizarre theatrics, his unique brand of chivalry (which is, admittedly, sexist and old fashioned) has earned him many strange looks and alarmed responses in nearly equal measure, and is only occasionally considered 'endearing'... Like a mentally challenged Prince Charming. ]

Ah ~ Leave this kind of work to the men, whose very existence is to eternally serve such a beautiful lady!

[stop_apologizing]

[That sure is a piece of scrap metal with a painted smily face being taken out of her hands.

If Sanji's intent was to render the girl speechless with the grandeur of his entrance, he succeeds in the moment. This young girl, blond-haired and blued eyed, face smudged dirty by the perpetual grit of the city, glances at him like she's not sure how he got there in the first place. There's a half second's silence of her staring, and blinking, and giving a surprised tilt of her head.

He's bowing at her and that's -- well, that's pretty normal, if she's to be honest with herself, but all the heart and flutter of his words goes sailing over her head. She's parsing out the meaning behind those big phrases instead, eyes seeming to narrow in concentration--

Until she suddenly bursts into an understanding smile.]

Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you wanted to help, sir! [ In that case, she'll take her project right back out of Sanji's hands (shhh that was for herself) and gives him something different: a raggedy paintbrush with sky blue paint dripping off the bristles. Once Sanji pulls himself out of that bow, he'll be able to see the progress she's made on an outside wall of a nearby shop. The bottom is thoroughly painted with modest success, as is the very top (???), but the middle still requires a steady hand.

And also, there are a few uneven boards of wood held precariously together by twine and rope, leaning against part of the wall. It may or may not be hiding a human-shaped hole.

We don't talk about the hole, okay.]

We can work on it together! [By which she means, they will most definitely be working on it together, new friend.]

Rey | OTA

[circumitus]

I. The Caves

The burning stench of foliage lingers in the air down the winding tunnels. The second of the tentacled plant creatures crumbles to the ground, fueling the fire that now consumes it.

Not wanting to damage her armor any more than she already had, Rey is taking a risk by coming out here without it. But she had fought plenty of times just as vulnerable as this, and there is also a monster screaming inside of Rey herself that is hungry.

"You certainly are getting greedy, aren't you?" Rey says aloud to no one in particular, her murmurs echoing down the seemingly empty tunnels. As the skin of her hand changes back from glowing to its natural hue, she brings her fingers over her face and sighs. She stumbles back from the bonfires, her head reeling with the insatiable hunger for another kill.

more. more. more. more. more.

Dropping her arm to her side, she turns her head in the direction of heavy footfalls coming her way. Her jaw clenches as she reaches for the hilt of the blade hanging at her belt, belonging to a claymore from Rage's arsenal. Swords aren't exactly part of Rey's original skill set, but she's practiced enough now to expand her horizons.

Besides, the killer in her doesn't need a sword or gun. Just the raging fire that blazes within her flesh and bones.

I. The City

Blood splatters across her clothes as Rey trudges down the city street, towards home. The sword clings at the belt around her cargo pants, also tainted with use. It's more of an inconvenience than anything else, though.

Tired and sore, her paces slow long enough for her to notice the certain... beautifications made to the city. Which makes her stand out like a sore thumb. She scoffs at them, her eyes narrowing and she carries on down the street.

Seriously, though. It isn't so bad.

city!

[pullback]

Someone is currently making said beautifications. Victor's got his arms halfway in a pile of dirt as he plants some sort of flowering something (he doesn't recognize the plant in the slightest.) As he hears Rey approach however, he looks up and just...frowns.

"I trust you aren't currently bleeding?" said in a tone that's very matter of fact, slightly annoyed. They have a clinic for a reason, you know.

ota

[prespangled]

[He wishes he could be out killing monsters. A couple of weeks ago and he would've tried, but that was before he and Bucky had a little talk about the noble (but sometimes stupid) things that Steve had a habit of doing and the resulting elevated stress levels that they caused. It hasn't stopped him, but it's maybe slowed him down. For now.

Fortunately there's an alternative, and it's something he can do, so he'll just have to trust his friends to kill enough monsters for him too. The city will probably never look like Paris, but then Steve's apartment had never looked like a mansion either. But he always kept it clean. Before he does anything else, he can be found cleaning around the buildings, gathering rubble and junk and putting it into his wagon to be hauled off elsewhere. He even sweeps up the dust, and takes a wet rag to the windows - the buildings that have windows, at least.

Once that's done, he moves on to the painting, gathering buckets of it and rolling up his sleeves. The brush is a little bigger than he's used to working with, but so is the canvas. In no time at all, he has his first painting done, a landscape in spring, giving the cave some color - even if the colors aren't always exactly right.

Steve sighs and takes a few steps back, critiquing his work more than admiring it. It's as tall as he is, but still:]

Wish I had a ladder. Or wings.

[wipedclean]

[He's taking a break from his monster hunting. He's had his sights set on the Yetis since the fog a few weeks ago, and now he's made them his targets. But even weapons need to recharge, so he's sitting by Steve as he paints. He looks at the art, then at Steve, and raises an eyebrow as he cleans his gun.]

You could stand on my shoulders.

ota

[wipedclean]

[Hope calls for death, and if there's one thing the soldier can do, it's kill. He'd killed the Rotfiends for Rage, and though he dislikes Hope, he doesn't dislike him so much that he'll ignore a mission when it's presented to him, especially one he's so well suited to.

The Yetis had caught his attention during the fog, weeks earlier, and since the fog made them difficult to track, he's taking advantage of the chaos and mayhem, hoping it will have distracted the monsters enough for him to track them down himself.

They're big, they're fast, they're strong, and their senses are keen, but the soldier is all of those things as well, and he has guns besides. But he has the advantage, because he's the one hunting them, stalking them quietly and laying in wait with his rifle to whittle them down slowly, weaken them bit by bit until they're hardly a threat to anyone at all.

He can be found on his hunt, if you're paying close attention though his focus and scowl at any distractions, and occasionally his may discourage anyone from approaching him. He can also be found around the safer parts of the city while he's recharging: eating, cleaning his weapons, taking naps in safe places, or stalking Steve from a distance to make sure he's alright while he's painting. He's slightly more approachable then.]

Can also pick up on our last thread too BTW, or we can assume they went their own ways!

[haute_cuisine]

[ Hope calls for much, Sanji's found... but it's the others stuck here like him that call less. Do more. He's seen enough in this world and the last and the one before it that little surprises him, or so he'd think -- the last one floored him both physically and mentally more than he and his monumental levels of pride will let him admit. He steadies himself in the familiar, and in rare cases? Those few he's bothered to do more than walk past.

Besides, they're clearly on the same mission. There isn't many, and any that doesn't involve them killing each other is a bonus, right? It might be a bad idea to approach a man on the hunt, especially one so well armed but Sanji isn't afraid of guns, even if he should be. Perhaps it's his own luck he's made when he approaches him, not in the depths of the winding networks of caves but out a little closer to civilization, where he's dishing out stew he's brought to an appetizing simmer. Don't ask what it's made of (it's probably Deathclaw). ]

Feel better without that shitty monkey on your back?

[ Hello again. ] You hungry?

ota

[quaerit]

A. Daytime Cleaning and Planting

[ Honestly, clearing up the city is a good thing for all of them, and not just because Hope asked for it. Gansey has all the strength of a reasonably athletic seventeen year old, and no more than that, but he spends some time working on the rubble on the streets, pushing it off to the side and trying to brush something like a clear track. He starts with the streets outside his own house, and keeps going until there's a decent track from the main street to his home.

Then come the plants. He gathers some that look leafy, some that look flowery, and some that look like nothing he's ever seen before. He also doesn't really know how these plants work, and even whether they're beneficial to each other, so he's just planting them together based on whether their colours match, and hoping for the best. In a place were hope is an actual physical presence, maybe that's even the right way to go about it. Regardless, anywhere that he sees a patch of green that doesn't have any flowers will get some from his stash. By the end, he thinks the roads might look a little better. He won't say no to anyone who'd like to help him along the way. ]

B: Night-time Painting

[ With all that activity, you would think it would be easy enough for Gansey to sleep at night. The truth is, though, it's never all that easy. At least now, he can use the time productively. Even during the hours of darkness, he can be found outside, painting on empty walls and rock faces. He wouldn't exactly call himself an artist, but he has a mind to be helpful here.

On one wall, in the middle of the city, he paints a map. It's approximate, based on his own studies and notes, but it roughly covers what he knows of the streets, and marks out important locations like the temples, the stores, the various spires, and the parts of the city that aren't yet restored. The orchard is represented by tree shapes, and the lake and river by a patch of blue. The area with the Silent Hill darkness is represented in place, with a bright yellow hazard symbol beside it. The caves are marked too, though his map doesn't cover their interior. They're marked with a different hazard symbol, so that newcomers will know to be careful.

Other walls get less involved treatment, though he sticks to what's helpful - signs that point towards stores, which relate to the main map. Hopefully, it will help people find their way around.

This work takes place over a number of nights, slowly building until the end of the week when the main map is finished. Feel free to interrupt at any point during the process, especially if you're failing to sleep as well. ]

b.

[lineare]

[ Jean doesn't sleep much these few nights, acutely aware of where she is, the minds she could accidentally affect if the nightmares come. But she's discovered a way around that for the time being, when she pushes herself past exhaustion and the sleep that comes is blessed, dreamless oblivion.

She roams tonight, intrigued by the systematic whir of thoughts and good intentions. Another night owl is out here, working on things that would benefit this place and the people who've found themselves in it, and she smiles. Despite the horrors she'd witnessed, there still is good in this place -- so much of it, that she cannot help but feel protective over it, too.

She sees him then, painting a map on the wall in the heart of the city, and she watches quietly for a moment before speaking up. ]

Thank you.

Henry and Maketh - Closed

[mismanagement]

[Though Maketh is loath to do anything that benefits the gods, she recognizes the necessity of it here. Culling the monster population down to a reasonable level means that the entire city will be safer for it. This is something that must be done, and who better than Henry to see it through?

Unlike before, Maketh has decided to join him. She's armored up as best she can - nothing compared to his, sadly - wearing a sword on her hip and a rifle slung over her back. It's time to demonstrate her own martial abilities. Talking in abstracts is all well and good, but she understands well the importance of trust. She'll need to prove herself before the end.]

Are you ready?

[hotspurred]

[Henry looks forward to seeing Maketh fight. He is aware that she is capable, of course, but he is yet to actually witness her in combat, which one might call an oversight. He does not expect prodigious skill. But the difference between that and basic competency is vast, and he would like to know exactly where she falls. Retaining only a vague idea serves no one. It goes both ways, too: it certainly won't hurt for her to have a concrete idea of his own talents.

Henry gives her a short nod, briefly glancing her equipment over.]

I am.

[His shield is ready on his arm; he draws his sword from its scabbard.]

Let us go.

[He'll lead the way into the caves, unless she objects.]

[mismanagement]

Henry and Maketh will be teaming up to take down ( 1 ) Malboro.

[unfollowing]

Pssst I was just scrolling by and noticed you put this in the wrong place! Don't want anything to go unkilled tbh :|

Castiel | Open to all! Painting + Healing

[strangelic]

1. Open - Pretty up this place

[ Castiel hummed as he worked. Cas hadn't known that he was even capable of painting, and truly, he wasn't really being that inventive. He hadn't been made with any kind of creative skill, and the idea that he could make himself into anything that was different, a creature that could paint on the walls and pour heaven's innovation onto it--was laughable. Of course, if he had understood that he could vividly form the world as he saw it, the universe, in paint, he might have given it more of a shot, but instead he was...well, he was Cas. He painted what he'd been suggested to paint.

So he painted bees...and he painted graffiti style penises. You can blame Dean for that. It might have also been suggested that he paint a demon penis on Lucifer's door...

Although the paintings are all very similar, he doesn't do it very well. He gets paint all over his hand, and angelic hand prints all over the walls around his bees. And his penises.

Sorry about that.]


2. Open - This angel is a healer

[ Cas is available at the medical center when he's not painting, and is decidedly back to being clean, whenever he's needed around to patch someone back up.

He can also be called to help by anyone, either accidentally or on purpose, though he'll be reticent to enter the caves to do so - his angel gps doesn't work therein. But praying for help will catch his attention. ]


3. Closed - Dean oh Dean oh Dean

[ When Dean faltered, Cas felt it. He called out his name, and then there was nothing - nothing - and Castiel, fear gripping his chest, set out at once to try and find him. He threw himself into the caves, all but shaking, hating the feel of the place around him. He pressed on, still afraid of what he would find when he found Dean, wherever there would be much left of him to save.

What he found was Dean all but turned to stone, standing over what looked like an enormous and very dead...tiger. It was a huge beast, and it had clearly taken its own turn at returning the favor, mauling Dean fiercely on the way down. The fact that he was petrified had probably saved his life.

But how to unpetrify him. Cas pressed on up to Dean, reaching out to him very carefully, aware that the magic might seep out and catch him too. He frowned, concerned, as his hands slid across grating, cold stone.

What did he do? Pick him up and carry him back into town? ]

Dean? Dean, can you hear me? Dean?

[kickingand]

[ In a way, Dean was thankful for the fact that the beastie had petrified him after he'd gone for his knee. Otherwise he would've ended up on the ground, able to move, able to grind broken, shattered bone as he writhed. Granted, the searing pain of it hadn't gone away just because he was frozen to the spot, the feeling of splinters through muscle and skin enough to make him want to bellow. Or scream. One of the two. It had come for him just as his blade had gone through its spine and yet he'd managed the sink of its teeth into the thing closest to its face, but as it was going down it had done this disastrous thing to him.

It had frozen him to the spot with blood rushing down his shin, pooling hot and wet in his boot, making him feel woozy whilst simultaneously being unable to move. It was catastrophic and he had to wonder if he'd die like this, if the blood loss from arteries and veins would render him dead before he could even drop with it. At least the bite hadn't been any higher - he was fully aware that a vein ran through his thigh that, if torn upon, would render him dead within seconds.

No, right now was simply the slow death. The--

Oh. Lookit that. It was Cas.

Dean could say nothing, was too busy being frozen to the spot, staring forward over the top of the beast's body. He was lost to it and yet his eyes were wide with searing pain, the breaths he was able to pull in frantic and quick, suctioned in hard and fast between immovable ribs. He was terrified, straining against invisible binds, wishing he could turn to Cas and say what he couldn't: anything at all. ]

kanda yu . ota

[beanstalk]

caves.

[ Well, Hope had said to kill things, so why would he just ignore that request? Granted, he'd rather be killing a certain Noah, but that wasn't going to get him anywhere. He was restless, and he's been wanting to further explore the cave system, so what better opportunity than this?

Then again, he doesn't get why that one of the so called "gods" can't just send the monsters back like they tended to do with people. Whatever, he's sure that he would be given some bullshit answer if he asked, anyway. (And it would take away all the fun of fighting actual monsters.)

It was hard to see, though, so Kanda wasn't far in to let his eyes adjust to the darkness before pressing forward.

time to kill some shit >:O ]

| kate . open af .

[dedikated]

( the clinic )
[ There's plenty of languages on the clinic walls already, proudly emblazoning the building as a place to come get healing. Now, after a couple of days work, there's also signs pointing towards the clinic painted on nearby buildings. Kate's outside for the moment, touching up some of the older lettering on the walls, making them all a little brighter.

She also - occasionally - breaks from that, cleaning windows or sweeping up rubble from the streets nearby. Really, it's all just busywork unless she spies someone stumbling towards the clinic, in which case she'll be over like a shot to help. ]

( the armoury )
[ Every day, Kate can be found at the armoury at various times. She isn't looking for weapons this time around, though. Instead, she hangs out towards the front of the building, a stack of portable first aid kits and - after the 24th - a handful of healing trinkets on hand to distribute to anyone who comes by looking for weapons on their way to the caves.

Stop by, say hi. Ask for some first aid kits or see if she has a trinket available for use. ]

armoury.

[scarletcast]

[ Strictly, she doesn't need weapons. Wanda is browsing, her hand brushing through the spears, looking over the knives, and is drawn to Kate the moment she senses her. ]

What are these?

[ A pen, a stone, and a few rings: her gaze lingers on them. ]

dean winchester | open!!

[kickingand]

ONE. into the distance, a ribbon of black

[ Dean has been fighting monsters from sun up to sun down - if only there was a sun to be seen. By himself, with Cas, with Sam - it doesn't truly matter who he's done it with, but he's torn himself into little pieces by way of it. He's thrashed his body in more ways than one and now he's done, he's over himself, he's beyond thought and feeling and a variety of other things that he refuses to access. His mind has told him that he needs and so he took, no matter the rationale and now he simply wants to hole himself up and forget the fact that he ever occupied this body to begin with.

Making his way back, Dean can be found at the edge of the river, rinsing gore from his hands, or hovering just outside the orchard, imagining what can be found in the depths.

He feels a touch out of his mind, hazy with the edges of bloodlust and death, and yet if he finds somebody nearby, he might be inclined to look over and think for a moment, searching for empty words that fill the hollows in his mind. ]

Think we're doing enough?


TWO. pour some sugar on me.

[ Dean is an adult. Really he is.

Except he doesn't get to be something other than that very often, and this is a rare chance to be something carefree and idiotic and ridiculous. Give him some paints and the chance to roam free and while he first contemplates devil's traps and enochian symbols, he soon degrades into something other than what he used to.

Dicks.

Dean is... painting dicks. Why? Because he can, because he never really got to be a twelve year old boy; there are a hundred reasons and all of them end with the fact that he's ridiculous and needs an outlet from time to time that just lets him have the chance to not give a single solitary fuck. There haven't been enough silly moments in his life and this is one that he's allowing himself, and so in the darkness he can be found grinning to himself and humming Bob Seger. Or Metallica. ]

two, because ~adults~

[dedikated]

[ using rooftops for travel is much more convenient.

of course, that whole thing where people randomly drop off a roof might not be so much for others. but it keeps her out of the way of people sweeping up the streets while she looks for other places to paint directional signs to the clinic, so kate does it anyway.

(although, she just does it because it is her. because the rooftops are as close to freedom as a person gets around here.)

and- ] Knew it. [ she fucking called this when hope posted. someone was going to draw dicks.

at least she sounds amused by the whole thing. ]

mello; hella open.

[torrefied]

the payback is here; take a look, it's all around you.

Mello has accepted the City Guard's community service sentence - begrudgingly, but accepted all the same. It's the most efficient way of getting his phone back in his possession and himself out of the Guard's line of sight, and frankly, Mello has more important things to do than fight with the lot of them. So this is fine. He can play at compliance for now. And now that he knows more about how the Guard works, he won't make the same mistake next time (and let's be real, there probably will be a next time).

The second week of his sentence occurs at the same time as Hope's requested assistance of the rest of the city in sprucing up the place - not that he knows that, at first, since he doesn't have a phone to see Hope's message. (What, no, he's not bitter.) During this time, Mello can be found all over the city: whitewashing buildings before they're painted over with murals; in the orchard weeding; picking up trash and rubble with a focused determination. His jacket is off during most of this work, and his sunglasses were broken in the scuffle with Bianca, so he feels more exposed than he'd like, but - this is all temporary. He can endure this. He's lived with worse.

[solvethepuzzle]

It isn't until the end of the second day that Near sees him. For his own efforts, he's been out painting. The cans of paint he'd used are empty so he'd just . . . left them sitting out beside the wall he'd been working on. Consideration? What's that? But he sees no reason to waste the brush, which can be re-used, so he's still carrying it with him as he makes his way back to the house.

He stops and watches for a moment, struck by the oddity of the situation. Mello is supposed to be in hiding, inasmuch as someone can do that here. His face is uncovered, something that neither of them does lightly. And he's performing manual labour, which theoretically could be for the same reason that Near has elected to do so, but in combination with the other factors, it simply doesn't fit.

It's an anomaly, and not one he should allow to stand. Near has his suspicions, but he would prefer confirmation and Mello hasn't contacted him in almost two weeks. Clearly he has to be the one to initiate contact this time.

"It's very nice of you to help."

This would probably be a friendly greeting, or at least a neutral one coming from anyone else. But with Near, it can carry so many other implications, some of them intentional, some of them not.

sam / open & closed.

[hollowly]

dean → closed ← well at least this will be a healthy way to work out some of that aggression.

( he knows dean has spent enough of his own time in the caves over the past few weeks – longer than that, if he catches himself keeping adequate time – and while he's more than come to terms with the battle dean has with the mark and its hold on him, he can't very well deny the … healthiest outlet the other has when it presents itself.

a call for monster-hunting. if that doesn't scream winchester, he doesn't really know what would, otherwise. and at the very least, the ammunition that he's been collecting on his own with offerings to rage is going to come in handy, especially considering he's been saving it for a situation such as this.

( he's thankful that he hadn't had to use much of it on the deathclaws that had shown up earlier in the month. those things … had been harder to deal with than he thought they would have been. he needs to stop giving things the benefit of the doubt and get back to expecting the worst, even if that's always been dean's bag more than his own. )

just outside the caves, he pauses, and looks over at his brother. ) Ready?

arya → closed ← first impressions on a girl, including monsters is always a good idea.

( he and dean both make good headway with the monsters together – but there are always going to be those times in which they need to go at it alone, get some space between them that recharges the air that lingers in that space, that makes them appreciate the other's presence once they're back in the same place at the same time. they trust one another to keep from going too far, from being too reckless, because neither of them have ever been that great at dealing with the repercussions of jumping the gun.

the caves are quiet, for the moment. it's never a good sign – never has been, and never will – and sam has his gun cocked as he carefully peers around a corner, eyes peeled for the first inclination that that lingering quiet is about to be disturbed, the stretch of it thin and brittle. like something is waiting for him, just out of the reach of his vision.

and when he sees it, it's almost reflective in the relative dimness around him, stark white and the bright blue of unblinking eyes, too-bright when everything else around it is dimmed by comparison. it stares, and so does he, every movement careful as he raises his pistol to take aim. to fire.

and to ultimately watch as the bullet ricochets off of the surface of what passes for the thing's skin. the sound of it echoes all around him, and he ducks instinctively just to make sure he doesn't end up getting himself hit – and that too-bright thing, it tilts its head almost questioningly, those too-bright eyes never blinking.

… well, shit. )

kate → closed ← please keep the yelling to a minimum.

( the unfortunate side effect of making the decision to help out with killing the overflow of monsters is the fact that … while sam might not be the least-qualified individual to do such a thing, he is human, and generally speaking, they're called monsters for a reason. they have claws, and they have teeth, and they have all manner of ripping and tearing a human being to shreds if they so choose.

he isn't exactly in shreds, per se, but he does find himself at the clinic after a few days' worth of monster-killing, a little bloodied and a little bruised but not really worse for the wear, at least by his own standards.

he's seen worse. he's been through worse. but needing a little patching up is reason enough to stop by the clinic. to see kate. to get himself a little closer to one hundred percent, even though he honestly can't remember the last time that was ever true for him.

when he comes in, it might be with a bit of a limp – he might be favoring one side more than the other – and he might just look like he's been run through the ringer, but … hey. at least he isn't dead. or in pieces. definitely still in one piece. )

wildcard! → open ← the spaces in between.

( he's going to be doing some monster-hunting on his own, so feel free to run into him anywhere! whether he's hunting or helping anyone injured get to the clinic to get themselves looked after, he's got time. )

wildcard; after she crawls out of her apartment

[knifecollecting]

[Jo catches sight of Sam up the street and drops her work try to hide before he sees her out.

Might as well try to let him think he was successful, right? But there's no where to hide and she's left in the middle of the street as he heads for her.]

souji seta; 2 closed + open

[truthvalue]

reckoner, take me with you (caves; closed to ichigo kurosaki).

Bright and early, Souji's at the entrance to the caves, sword in hand. There's plenty of work yet to be done, and this - well, there's something really nice about this, something comfortable about fighting monsters again with a partner. He turns to Ichigo with an encouraging smile.

"Ready?"

dancing for your pleasure (painting; closed to ai ebihara).

It's not all about fighting monsters - some of the time he spends with Ai, helping her paint over some of the city's buildings. His help may take the shape of holding paint cans more than actually laying down brushstrokes himself, but he's happy to work with her in a support role. And if she happens to have something on her mind, he's happy to lend an ear, too.

dedicated to all human beings (open; errywhere).

Do you have an odd job you need help with? A special but strange request? Something you're looking for but haven't yet found? Souji can be found all over Hadriel during the spruce-up week, and he seems friendly enough that anyone would probably feel comfortable stopping him to ask a favor, no matter how weird the request might seem.

[liketeenspirit]

Ichigo's got a sword nearly his own height strapped to his back. It's not quite what he's used to, but it's not too far off, either. He'd given it a few practice swings before settling on it, and the balance is good and it fits all right in his hands. It'll do.

He's got his nagging doubts, of course, about whether he's in fit shape to do this. Sure, he's strong and fast compared to other humans, but they're not going out to fight humans, are they? This is my real body, he thinks, looking into the cave's mouth. It can't take the kind of punishment I could handle as a shinigami, and Inoue isn't here to patch me up. If I get hurt, I'm going to have to heal the old-fashioned way, and that's gonna take time. I'd better be careful.

But wasn't he fighting hollows more than two years ago, even before he had trained up to this level? Hadn't he won fights as a newbie shinigami against all kinds of monsters? Hasn't he been fighting against one thing or another all his life?

Ichigo loosens the sword in its harness. Fit or not, it feels pretty good to buckle on a weapon and go out and fight the things in the shadows, and when he glances at Seta, it looks like the other guy feels the same. He flashes Seta a grin back -- the first real one he's worn since before he came here.

"Are you kidding? I was born ready." He pulls the sword free and brings it around, turning to face the caves. "Let's go!"