hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dazed and Confused

A - Wandering the City

When someone walks by its probably to a very peculiar sight. Jill is standing on the side of the street, apparently alone, but very unhappy. Or maybe unhappy isn't a strong enough word. She's currently kicking the crap out of a garbage can. Whatever that can did, it must've been really bad because there is no mercy! She gives it the toe of her boot until it rolls and rattles, then goes after it and gives it another kick so it flies into a wall.

"I'm sick of seeing you!" Damn thing! How many times is she going to walk by the same fucking garbage can on her way to getting anywhere! She's not used to having no sense of direction.

B - This Your House?

Finally! Jill thinks she's managed to actually get back to her apartment. Sure, the spires might look the same, but she's got a great sense of direction. Usually. The fact that it took her so long to get home is completely bizarre. Definitely not something a person with her extensive training should be going through. With a great sigh of relief, she opens the door and walks into the apartment, desperate for a shower and a long rest.

Or... she thought it was her apartment. Guess it was yours instead. There's a long pause and then Jill rubs her hand down over her eyes.

"Sorry. Wrong one. Again."

C - Closed to Curtis

Home. Or the place she calls home while she's stuck in this crazy underground town. Jill was exhausted when she walked through the door of her apartment. She'd been wandering all day just trying to get back here, and it's not the first place she walked in to along the way. After such a long day she was tired, her head hurt, and she was frustrated beyond belief. Never has she felt so disoriented and lost. But that's over now. Whatever is happening is impacting the whole city, so perhaps she should lay low until it passes or she gets her bearings. As a member of the city guard, she may have to go out again or report in if called; she knows that. But she won't do anyone any good in her current state.

The first thing she does is go to the fridge and grab a bite to eat. Something quick just for nourishment before she wanders into the bathroom. Striping down, she gets into the shower and lets the water fall over her, cleaning up and feeling a lot like her old self again. Once that's done, she staggers into the bedroom, pulls on her panties and the first clean shirt she can find and drops straight into bed. The last bit of strength she has is just enough to pull the sheet over her as she snuggles down into the pillow and falls right to sleep.

And that's where she is when Curtis gets home to find a woman has moved into his apartment.

D - Wildcard

Open to anything else!

BRIDGE ✠
[At least twice a day, Henry can be seen crossing the bridge over the river, making his way to and from the Guard's headquarters. It's not normally an unusual sight. But for the duration of this week, something is a little off.]

I. Closed to liketeenspirit;
[In his mind, Henry is walking the path he normally does. In actuality, he walks beside the path, a few yards off where he thinks he is, completely oblivious to the peril he is headed for.

He only notices that he misses the bridge across when he plummets into the river with a mighty splash.

The plate armour and mail he wears is heavy, but he does not ordinarily think of it that way thanks to a lifetime of conditioning. He knows it now as he sinks like a stone. There is no space for thought or panic. He simply acts on instinct, lashes out, and manages to embed his sabaton into the bank, and from there desperately drive a gauntlet above, and climb with all the strength he has, up the edge, fighting against the river's current, his armour's weight and his lack of air, creating holds with force –

his lungs are burning from lack of oxygen, but he is rising, he is dead if he does not –

darkness encroaches upon the edges of his vision, seeping inwards –

His hand breaks the surface, but his strength is waning, he struggles to drive it into the bank so that he can pull his head above the water. He fails, and fails again. His vision goes black and he falls limp, but his foot is still wedged in, so before the weight of his harness and the river's current drag him free there is a brief opportunity for rescue...]

II. OTA;
[After his close brush with death, Henry is no longer complacent about crossing the bridge. He can't very avoid it if he wants to get his duties done and he is no coward besides. This time he verifies with touch as well as sight that the bridge is before him, and concentrates entirely on it as he steps onto the bridge. One safely on it, he relaxes.

And that is very nearly his undoing.

Before he knows it, he is tumbling over the side, and only his honed reflexes stop him from falling into the river again: he catches the edge of the bridge with one hand. The angle is awkward and he feels a sharp pain in his wrist, but his grip is solid and holds. ]

For God's sake...!

[He snarls angrily, through teeth gritted in exertion, as hanging there, he struggles to grab on with his other hand and pull himself back over to safety.]

PATROL ✠ OTA;
[Henry is not one to shirk his duty, and so, despite the troubles Confusion's resurrection is wreaking across the city, he does his patrols. The one problem is that they are taking him at least twice as long as normal, because every time he tries to head back to headquarters, he seems to circle everywhere but. This time, when he spots another person, he stops walking.]

Where came you from?

[He asks impatiently, apparently concerned that his sense of direction is somehow injured.]

BAR ✠ OTA;
[Henry is, in actual fact, trying to reach either his apartment or the Guard headquarters when he finds himself standing outside Delight's bar. But after the time he's having, he chooses to enter anyway. As he makes his way over to the bar itself, he takes his shield off of his arm, unwinds its strap and slings it over his back, then tugs off his guard sash and tucks the piece of uniform beneath his swordbelt. That, he thinks, makes him off-duty.

From the bar he comes away with a bottle of Gascon red wine and settles himself at a small table, fully prepared to drink away his woes. Normally he has a rule about drinking alone – don't – and wouldn't do so still in armour, but right now he's so done with everything that he's fully prepared to make an exception.]

POWER MALFUCTION ✠ OTA
Streets;
[Bloody Kate. He knows that it's not her fault this time, but she certainly has a talent for making trouble with her extraordinary power. Even since colliding with her he cannot relinquish his own abilities. This isn't even how they work. And yet here he is, a golden light painted across his skin, twice as fast and strong and impervious. Worse, his nemesis shield spreads before him, an invisible and dangerous barrier that he cannot lower, strengthened twofold by Kate's power and his own unending zeal.

The last thing he wants to do is have anyone run into him and hurt themselves. Unfortunately, he cannot seem to find somewhere safe to hole himself – each time he thinks he's nearly to his apartment, Guard headquarters or even open spaces like the park, he finds himself back on a street where his proximity poses a risk to his fellow residents.

He frantically waves off anyone he sees coming near, yelling at them.]

Avaunt!

Guard HQ;
[Once he makes it to headquarters, Henry drags a desk into the middle of the training floor and sits himself down to do some paperwork. A paper sign on his desk proclaims: stay back. It is hours later and his zeal hasn't waned – he still glows with a golden sheen – and his nemesis shield is as solid as ever. He's hoping they stop sustaining themselves soon, because the consequences of this extent of use are beginning to worry his thoughts. His doubled strength means that he has to hold his pen and press lightly to write, and writing too fast tends to catch and tear the paper, which is why he is concentrating hard on his task.

For the love of God, try not to startle him. It will not end well.]

EXHAUSTION ✠ Closed to CR;
[It takes thirty hours before his zeal and nemesis shield finally give up, and the sudden end of sustaining them hits Henry like a battering ram. In an instant he's absolutely shattered.

It's a miracle that he is about to enter his apartment when it happens.

He manages to turn his key in the lock and push open his front door, staggering inside. He dumps his shield and swordbelt (with his sheathed sword and phone pouch still attached) there at the entrance. He leaves a trail of plate armour pieces, some still attached to each other, and mail as he rapidly strips them as he makes for his bedroom. He leaves the clothes he was wearing in a pile at the foot of his bed and manages to pull on some clean pyjama bottoms before he collapses onto his mattress.

Henry promptly falls into a deep, exhausted slumber. He does not stir of his own accord for days.]

[For anyone who wanders into UD house. Can be open to any of the upset children, or for any specific one (or more) you want!]

one; apartment

[When the Door first brought Maketh through, it had not done so gently. Neither her uniform nor any of her belongings had survived unscathed. Indeed she'd been forced to replace nearly everything, from her boots to her underclothes. The charred remains she had thrown away. She was not sentimental about objects, or at least she preferred not to be. The clothes had been ruined and so she'd tossed them away - not for the symbolism, but because it was simply the most practical action to take.

The communicator, however, she'd kept. It was scratched and half-melted from the blast, but she had held out hope - however slim - that one day what remained of its components might prove useful in some way. She certainly hadn't expected to get it working again.

But it had done just that when she woke up, squawking angrily until she dug it out from her dresser.

From there, it vibrated in her hands and spat out message after message, unceasing. The words were familiar in a way that made her stomach tighten up and brought with it the urge to do something.

Should you stop by, you'll find Maketh doing push-ups in her room, listening to an angry, screaming speech about the perils of ideological disobedience.

Have fun with that.]

two; patrolling

[She should not have circled back this way and certainly not multiple times! Once is troubling, twice is cruel, but three times -- now that is unheard of. Maketh huffs, rubbing her face. She's sleep deprived and frustrated, a pleasant combination if ever there were.]

This is ridiculous!

[three; wrong house

[This has to be her apartment, Maketh thinks. She's been as thorough as she can with taking the proper route back, checking her landmarks and studiously ignoring whatever misinformation her phone is parroting back. In the end she's back from her patrolling and standing in front of a door. It has to be her apartment, right? This whole thing is ridiculous.

She knocks just to be on the safe side.]

four; wildcard!

one; apartment

[Miriam herself is fine. Prone to getting lost just like everyone else, sure, but--mostly normal.

Barnaby, unfortunately, is not. His cybernetic healing factor is currently off its rocker. Barnaby is currently trying to navigate around the living room on six rickety legs and has eyes growing out of the back of his skull, all of them sickly green and weeping. He's crying too, bumping against Miriam and howling to the ceiling. Miriam only hopes it's not in pain. He's just scared. That's okay. She can be brave for him.]

C'mere, buddy. I got a bone for you. Want a bone?

[She waves the toy at him, clutching a pillow close. Barnaby flops down with a whine and puts his head on her leg. After a moment, he takes the bone. There's not much enthusiasm. His new legs are twitching.]

two; bar

[Barnaby's stopped crying, at least, though he's still got six legs and way too many eyes stuck in his head and all the way down his back. Miriam made the mistake of going outside for some air and to let Barnaby chase some monsters in the hope that he'd feel better after killing something, but discovered she couldn't find her way back to the apartment.

The bar is the next best thing to home, so Miriam is currently camped out in the corner, feeding Barnaby whipped cream straight from the bottle. The dog's tail thumps against the floor.]

three; wildcard

[ a - aaaaaaaa. ]

AAAAAAAAAUGH --

[That's a witch barreling down from the sky at high speeds. Maybe at you. Maybe at the building next to you. Maybe at your feet. Either way, it's going to hurt.]

[ b - i'll come back to haunt you if i drown. ]

[Why was there a convenient pole sticking out of the water? Who knows? Certainly not Warrick. All Warrick can figure out is that he owes his damn life to this stupid random pole and that makes him hate it.]

Help? Anyone? Seriously, if one of you doesn't come get me, I'll -- ooh, I don't know. Maybe something with poison, since I'm not supposed to set things on fire, apparently. No! You know what? Everything's burning! Get me and I'll spare any building of your choice!

[...and similar things are shouted from his perch. He's so done.]

[ c - not that kind of spelling. ]

[He's so done. He's done enough that he's not moving anymore, just stubbornly sitting close to some shops and making a sign. Or...trying to.]

How do you spell 'mender'?

[HE HAS NEVER BEEN MORE DONE.]

Edited 2016-09-24 22:23 (UTC)

A. Dreams of war, dreams of liars

It starts when he leaves the house. There's a particular set of shops that he likes to visit. But when he his usual left turn, he ends up somehow over by the colosseum. Huh. How very strange. Ushahin attempts to backtrack his steps. That only serves to drive him further into the city. Now he's good and truly lost, every street he goes down serving to make him more and more confused.

He attempts to contact Fetch, but his little raven friend keeps projecting confusion to him. The bird thinks he's flying over the city. Ushahin sees through his eyes that he keeps flying over the same spire over and over again. This is not good.

To make things even worse, he keeps feeling the minds of Hadriel close in around him. No matter how he tries to keep his mental barriers up, they keep filtering into his head. Their thoughts, projected so very loud, make it impossible to concentrate on finding his way. He tries to ignore it. He's just stressed and tired. If he can just make his way home, then he'll be able to concentrate and be alone in his head. Just one more turn now...

B. Dreams of dragon's fire

The voices don't diminish. If anything, they just grow worse. Soon, he's overwhelmed by the internal thoughts of over a hundred individuals. Snatches of thoughts drift through his head, most tinged with confusion. There's a running commentary going on in his head, a horrible train of thought that goes WhereamIthoughtitwasthiswaywhat'sgoingonthisisn'tmyhousewhyaren'tmypowersworking. And on and on it goes. Ushahin stumbles and collapses on the ground, pressing his hands to the sides of his head, as if he can press the voices out by force. Make it stop. Make it stop.

They don't.

It's too hard to keep a firm grasp on the reality in front of his eyes, so he just lets his mind drift away, just another voice trapped inside the roaring cacophony inside his head. He gets up and stumbles along like a blind man, seeing nothing in front of him. He might find his way into someone's house in this state, his eyes wide and unseeing. Or he might be found curled up in a alleyway, too tired and beaten to to try and move any further. Anywhere he's found, there's a high-pitched keening that seems to be coming from him, though his mouth is shut. No, that sound of intense screaming pain is coming from his very mind.

C. And of things that will bite

With his powers completely on the fritz, Ushahin is staying as far away from everyone as he can. He doesn't need to be entering anyone's mind right now when his own is so fractured. He's in so much pain now that he can't even see or hear anything around him.

Then someone does come near him. His head snaps up, looking towards where they are coming from. He sends out a tendril of thought. What he means to say is simply Help me, please. But he can't control what he projects into someone's head anymore than he can keep the voices out of his own. The half-man finds himself falling...falling...falling...right into their head.

The careful restraint that he usually has when going through someone's mind is completely gone. There's over a thousand years of power behind his thoughts, and though he's most reluctant to hurt anyone, he's no longer the one in control here. A mind is such a fragile thing, as easy to break as a pane of glass. He's afraid that's what he's going to do right now.

(a) - day 1 - WANDERING, VERY MUCH IN NEED OF THE CLINIC (uh oh)

Hermann is having a bad time. He looks it, too. Though he had attempted a ramshackle bandaging to suffice before finding a medical professional or healer, to keep it from jostling further, his left wrist remains bent at an unsettling, unnatural angle. His right cheek faintly blisters, red, and as for the rest of him -- difficult to say, given his clothes cover. They are disheveled, along with his hair.

His steps are labored, however, and he leans on his cane at a severe, hard angle.

It should be this way to the clinic. He knows it. Only, even with his belabored pace, he should have reached it by now. Hermann still seeks the clinic, not yet having extrapolated from whatever had happened to Mr. Sans, to question what someone so employed might unintentionally do. It should be. Certainly, just there. Just there. Tired, weary, weary, weary, his bruised bones trying to drag him down through his battered skin, agitated fury slamming into the walls of his skull, but all suspended at the prospect of assistance --

He hooks his cane on his elbow, opens the door.

[ ooc: guess what it's not the clinic it's YOUR HOUSE? but uh for realz help, this wasn't in the plotting post because I HAD NO IDEA THIS WOULD HAPPEN... but it 'help' actually 'hurts' o well, thnx confusion ]

(b) - any time later in the event - THE LABORATORY

By now, Hermann has a solid grasp on the nature of things. He has effectively set up camp in the lab, for two central reasons:
(1) Once he safely reached it, given that he and Newton stocked emergency reserves both in the house and here, he had little incentive to step out again and get himself lost; and
(2) He refuses to return to that place without certain conditions being met, conditions that will not be met during the remainder of this event.

While he may yet intend to cross rooms and wind up in the sodding tunnels, determining to enclose himself (yet a bloody gain) seemed the most practical way. The most cautious. As ever, he had so few other options.

At least there's plenty to keep himself busy. Machines dragged and carted from empty rooms, a variety of appliances, most in different states of repair and cohesion. If he's not hunched with his phone, he tinkers. He might be found thus, to yet another person misdirected. He might be napping on the couch. He might be sipping tea, or coffee, as of course the lab was equipped with approximations of burners.

Or, he might be found like this:

Finishing with putting an appliance back together, thumbing the power button to ensure all the pieces (inexplicable as some of them were, or more accurately, what was missing, the spaces between, filled with infuriatingly magic) would once again turn together, producing function, and -- yes, it was hooked to plumbing, but instead of the busy thrum of water and soap, eager to flush the filth from dishes, the machine begins to belch bubbles.

Bubbles.

Some the size of his head, some his fingernail. Hermann stares, nonplussed, until a blue light whistles out.

It pops a bubble, then settles on his shoulder.

The fabric promptly erupts into flame and Hermann jumps back, squawking, now flinching with delayed, narrow pain as he struggles to yank off his blazer. Meanwhile, unperturbed, the laser attempts to bore a tiny hole in the opposite wall.

(c) - whenever - WILDCARDDdddddddddddd seriously whatever.

All things considered, they were asking for this. Perhaps not this in particular, but even Rey has to admit that choosing a god like Confusion wasn't bound to give them a free pass to a nice time.

As the month went on, she was expecting something like this to happen. When you've been around the block enough times, you start to notice patterns, and Rey has paid mind to the incidents that tend to follow a resurrection. Delight, with her endless parties and insomnia. Sorrow, forcing them to open up to one another with confessions and feelings of guilt.

Needless to say, you reap what you sow.

I. Home Invasion (So, Your Place or Mine?)

Patrols are a joke. Rey has never had much illusion that it was doing much good for anyone, especially now. For the most part, it was an excuse to get her on her feet doing something.

Now, all she wants to do is go home. Or, the two-story house that she happens to share with Nick Valentine. It's about as close to a home as she's ever going to get, anyway. Not like she had much of a home before this place to start with.

Stumbling into the dwelling after a long day, Rey checks to see if perhaps Nick has made it home as well. After finding no sign of him anywhere, she shrugs and heads for the kitchen.

Eventually, someone will end up coming home to a scar-faced woman drinking milk or juice or whatever contents in your fridge. Right out of its carton, no less.

The barbarian.

II. Fire Lady (Streets, Riverside, Bridge)

Wandering aimlessly and into other people's homes isn't the only issue Rey is facing, it seems. There is also the occasional blip with her energy. Sometimes it comes in short bursts, lasting only for a few seconds.

Other times...

"Fuck!"

...she ends up entirely on fire.

Of course, clothes don't tend to come in 'fireproof', and Rey hadn't thought to leave the house with her armor that could withstand her body's shifts of energy. Fortunately, the state of her seared attire isn't obvious right away, what with being completely consumed in flames.

Either way, it'll be pretty difficult to ignore the oppressive heat and, somewhere down the line of your bewildering travels, a burning woman holding her hand out as if to stop you. The heat then becomes so intense that it's difficult to breathe. "You should stay back."

For someone on fire, she sounds more annoyed than anything else.

III. Data Truncation (Anywhere)

Other than getting lost and sometimes on fire (and losing clothes as a result of the latter), she winds up pretty lost.

Obviously, right? We're all pretty lost here. However, one can be lost in more ways than just directional.

Sometimes, she is no longer Rey. Not the Rey that you know (or perhaps don't know). The memories of the various women inside her head -- their thoughts, their emotions, their experiences -- are muddied. Blurred together. Sometimes, she is not even in Hadriel at all. She could be wandering the wastelands of Kuwait, or the snowy paths of the Julian Alps, or the jungles of Central Africa. Sometimes, she's in a dark city, traveling through a place known as the Black District.

Bumping into her is a gamble, as you could be meeting anyone. From the homeless girl who had worked her way up to Special Forces for the U.S. government, to the merciless Russian sniper on a warpath to revenge.

Really, it is the Salamander you should never hope to cross.

IV. Wildcard

[ooc: Choose your own adventure! The above prompts are pretty open-ended, but if you want to plot then feel free to hit up my plotting comment, PM me, or hit me up on plurk at

citygrit!]

Edited 2016-09-25 01:52 (UTC)

I. Maybe it’s both ways - OTA
[She meant to go to the sewing shop. Meant to stop in and see if Emily needed help with any projects before either helping or doing something else with her hours like go poke around Souji’s eventual restaurant. And she thought she was heading in the right direction and ended up standing in front of one of the temples. Well that wasn’t right maybe she missed a turn or something along the way? Anyway it was easy enough to fix just go back the way she came and adjust course.

Next time she ends up in front of one of the Spires. The time after that the river. Every time Ai thought she’d fixed her course to end up at Emily’s shop, she ended up anywhere but. She even tried picking turns at random in a desperate attempt to end up at her destination.

Needless to say it didn’t work. Several different times during her trip Ai stops and sits down trying to figure out which way to go next. This really wasn’t supposed to be a full day trip unless Emily had work or there was something she could do to help out Souji. Or whatever other odd job she could find while she was out at any rate.]

Well this sucks…

II. You’re a shock to my heart – closed to Souji

[After wandering for what feels like days, finding Souji is a blessing. One that has her rushing to cross lines and cling to his arm afraid that maybe he was a mirage. Possibly even disappear around a corner and never reappear. It’s been a very confusing day since she left the house if nothing else.]

Seta-san thank goodness. Do you know the way home?

[Please say you do Souji, she really wants to go home. At least it’s warm and there’s food and she has a soft bed to call her own. Her feet are killing her all she wants to do is sit down and soak them before they fall off.]

i. The years start coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming and they

[They'd like to say, for a kid, that their sense of direction isn't too bad. Even then, it's only slightly disconcerting to find their feet taking them in the wrong direction, at first; a street over from where they should be. The wrong temple. Halfway across the city and five floors up a spire they've never lived in.

But it's also the least of their problems, right now.

There's something else happening that they can't explain- they feel determined, then they don't. They feel DETERMINED. DETERMINED. Determined. And with a fizzle and a shutter click, like they're shifting from one slide to another, Frisk's appearance changes alongside it. To the slightly unkempt mess of hair and dusty clothes who habitually haunts the city, to a hollow eyed thing, limping across the ~~snow~~ street, to not walking at all, an almost cartoonish bone sticking out of their leg (it's not theirs), or a spear in their back, or deep-set gashes up their arms, set apart in an almost unerring pattern. Like teeth.

Or vines.

Frisk doesn't look like they're enjoying this, so much.]

ii. Don't let the bedbugs bite- or steal your food. That too.

The great thing about being this size is that you can go unnoticed for rather long stretches of time, should you keep it down. The not so great thing about this, at least for other people, is going unnoticed can lead to some...surprises, when you're technically playing uninvited guest in someone else's home.

Not that they're being particularly obvious, in this. Still, things don't just remove themselves from the fridge all by their lonesome (roommates never seem to look at who's name is on the juice carton, though). Toilets don't flush randomly in the middle of the night- and wardrobe doors don't just mumble in their sleep-

But a child curled up on your clean towels? They certainly can do all of the above.

Their bad.

Edited 2016-09-25 02:25 (UTC)

a: just took a wrong turn

[Well, he'd been trying to get to the clinic - or at least, that's what Adam intended when he set out. It had seemed like a normal day, but now, hours later, he's well aware that's not the case.

Adam's walked the path to and from the clinic hundreds of times by now. He's pretty sure he could do it in his sleep, which makes it all the more frustrating that he's nowhere near. At some point, he even crossed one of the bridges, and now he's on the other side of the city. He didn't intend to, it just sort of happened.

He looks around, brow furrowed, trying to get his bearings.]

Is that... Sorrow's temple over there?

[Is he near the orchard? What the hell? He looks around for anyone who might no be as lost as him, and attempts to swallow down his annoyance at the entire situation.]

Excuse me.

b: what the hell

[He hasn't found his way home yet. What Adam has found, however, is that something entirely different is going wrong. This, too, is something he didn't immediately notice, but mostly because it isn't happening all the time. And - well, his magic works in strange ways sometimes, but this isn't normal.

Things are growing around him. He'll sit on a doorstep for awhile, resting, and when he gets up weeds have sprouted from the cracks in the pavement. He found the park, stayed there for a little, and saw vines twist their way around trees and flowers bloom for him.

It's honestly sort of ridiculous. Adam has a magical forest in his head, and Cabeswater's leaves and roots and branches are a part of him, but this is not something that's ever happened before. This is some Disney Princess level bullshit. Soon animals are going to start talking to him.

He straightens up from where he was leaning against a shop wall, resting his legs, and sighs to see some tiny, perfect wildflowers growing from chinks in the wall.]

Seriously? Come on. That's not even useful.

c: hello friends

[Adam thinks he's home - he's pretty sure - and so he opens the door and walks in without knocking.

Except, of course, the inside does not look at all like the house he's been living in.

He sighs. Should he have expected this, after everything? Probably. Maybe he can make the best of it. If he knows where he is - if he can talk to someone who lives here - maybe he can find his way home. Or something. (It seems pretty unlikely, but he doesn't have much to work with here.)

He's just got to make sure he doesn't accidentally grow any plants on someone's stuff.]

Hello? Sorry, I just walked in...

i. got two black eyes from lovin' too hard : city / your house

[ Crow has been pretty caught up with flying around to find everyone he knows the last few days. He wakes up this morning expecting the same routine, except he can't quite get to where he's going. Or find anyone else for that matter. He's getting turned around as easily as everyone else, only fifty feet up in the air instead. He'll realize a little too late that he's going the wrong way, then turn around to try again. Rinse repeat every thirty feet. It definitely looks like he's just flying in circles in the middle of the city.

Screw it. He lands and decides to go by foot after trying for an hour just to find his way back home, as much as he hates walking. Unfortunately his luck isn't much better this way until he finally sees his window and flies up and inside— ]

Huh.

[ Well. This isn't his place at all. ]

ii. always on the hunt for a little more time : anywhere

[ Okay, okay. It's been a few days now. Today is going to be different. Today Crow is...

Well, if you happen to come across a black bird pecking at the ground and cawing seemingly at random? Yeah, that's Crow.

With moments of clarity, Crow gravitates in the direction of faces he recognizes. Words go right over his tiny bird brain when she's spoken to, as intelligent as he is for having taught himself the language. He won't respond in the familiar loud mouth, sarcastic manner you'd normally recognize. Though he does eye your shiny things and food.

On the last day of this Confusion thing, Crow is just a crow. ]

iii. wildcard : anytime, anywhere

i; wolf in sheep's clothing

[ Some days Rose is grateful for the lack of mirrors in Hadriel. She can't see how haggard she looks; she can't see the wear and tear of Haven on her. Other days, like today, it would be beneficial to be able to see her reflection more often because of the confusion her form seems to be in. She's herself one second and a monster the next.

In the blink of an eye, her golden locks are replaced with snow white curls. Her light brown eyes are a more amber color. There a couple fuzzy additions to her person too - a pair of white ears atop her head with a matching while bushy tail. They're always there (other people just can't see or feel them) so shedoesn't notice the difference.

It seems to be random the intervals that her haywire appearance happens; it can last for just a few seconds to a few long, awkward moments. Anyone might see her as the Rose they know one minute, smiling warmly but the next it'll be mouth full of fangs that's greeting them instead. ]

ii; sweet as sugar, cold as ice; hurt me once, i'll break you twice

Fuck-!

[ The woman doesn't usually curse if she can help it. The jagged ice spikes currently lining the building she'd happened to place her good hand on though definitely called for the expletive. Hadriel is recycling Haven's ideas, it seems. This isn't the first time her control over ice has gone on the fritz.

Last time it'd gone to the nth degree, she had frozen over her at-the-time boyfriend. Turns out he wasn't into ice play; needless to say, it was horrible for everyone involved. That's why if she hears anyone coming close, she'll be quick to shout: ]

Stay back! Just. Don't.

[ A sneeze, a flinch, anything could set it off. She'd never had the best control over ice since she left her frozen home so early in life. Yet it'd also never been powerful enough that it was an issue. It's horrifying, having this kind of power. ]

iii; wildcard

[ Anytime, anywhere, anyplace! Rose might be utterly lost or confusing Hadriel for Haven, home, the ring, the Makai, and just about everywhere in-between so tread carefully since she's not the most stable in some of those environments! ]

( oc house )
| open
( she doesn't notice anything for most of the day - because that would make just too much sense. we can't have someone being confused from the moment they wake up, right? then it's no longer confusing!

it happens around lunchtime, when she's home for something to eat, that first spark of something odd.

like walking into the laundry room instead of the kitchen. )

( What the...? )

( she blinks, once, twice, thrice. and eventually decides- )

( Must be more tired than I thought. )

( she should go get some coffee before returning to the clinic. clearly the stuff they have doesn't have enough caffiene in it for today. but anyway! time to go to the kit--

or to find herself at the front door? okay?? that... uh. that's a thing. )

The fuck is going on?

( sorry, if you happened to be trying to enter the house and just got a faceful of a disgruntled pink haired lady. or if you happen to be in the house, somehow. )

( ending page )
| closed to clinic staff, cr
Stay there.

( she's exhausted. the drain of her powers going haywire is one thing, the constant on-off of her telepathy (which doesn't even work that way) is another.

the getting lost, even the being grounded? those she could handle, even if they flicker irritation through her veins and confusion throbs in her skull.

it's the fact that any time she touches someone, something happens. their powers go even more haywire, something explodes. that tips it from just an annoyance to an actual danger, enough so that - when she finally finds the clinic instead of a random person's house - Kate stumbles her way into one of the wards, places herself at the far end of the room and watches the door to it with the sharp eyes of cornered prey.

why in the hell is she suddenly a loudspeaker for anything approaching a supernatural ability? her power doesn't work this way and it's weird as hell (okay, it's this whole They Decided To Revive Confusion Thing, she knows this, logically, but there's being confused - which is this whole "can't find your way to your kitchen" shit - and then there's her powers suddenly deciding to completely change thing).

she has a headache, one that has nothing to do with the on-off white noise whenever her telepathy starts playing up.

where's the aspirin? )

( ooc: note that ( these ) are thoughts her telepathy is messing with and broadcasting into minds. feel free to hear them or not!

also: plotting post with more details about how her powers are messing up and an inbox top level for any thoughts you want to broadcast at her regardless of distance. )

Wandering the City, 26th and on
[She hadn't needed to leave the house until the 26th. Usually she went every day, but with Helena as a new roommate she tried to stay close in case the other woman needed something.

After two days the cabin fever was getting to her and she headed out with her makeshift bags to find some more food and items.

That was when she must have made a wrong turn, because now she wasn't anywhere near the shop she had intended to check out. In fact, she was close enough to hear the river, somehow.

If one stumbles across her, she's pacing back and forth with her face close to her phone.]

None of this makes any sense. I was just- [She never gets lost.]

Towards the end of the event; apartments
[She had never managed to find the shop she was looking for. At some point she had stumbled into the orchard, but the fruits she thought were fine to eat were far too bitter and she could only assume something was going on that wasn't just her.

Jo was grateful she had Delight's blessing. She hadn't used it much before, but this week she certainly was taking advantage of it. It was hard to sleep and eating had fallen to the wayside as she tried to find her way back.

After several days she found a spire. She was almost certain it was the right one, and so up the stairs she had run.]

Hey, I'm- [And then she freezes with the door half-open. This is not her apartment. Hell, maybe it was even a house and she had been more confused than she thought.]

[When Elmer left the house today, he hadn't expected to suddenly walk too far into the caves. Considering he lived nowhere near these parts, it was a bit of a surprise to suddenly turn to see his home was gone, as was most of the visibility around him. Surprising further still is the large monster in this cave that also has no idea where this guy came from, but is glad for the meal delivery anyway. Hapless Elmer isn't able to get away in time, but after a few chews, the monster realizes Elmer isn't making for a nice meal. Hard to eat a guy who is immortal and reforming in your mouth as you try to eat him. No fun at all.

The whole experience is very unpleasant, but Elmer has been through worse, and usually his immortality would have him right as rain in a matter of moments. Not this week, though. After the monster spits him and and leaves, Elmer takes awhile to get back up. And he's feeling rather strange.

Running into Elmer is easy, if you like surprises. He's trying to get to a specific place, but of course, just ends up somewhere totally unexpected, like a shop, or near a temple, or inside your bathroom, or along the river. Anywhere. Still trying to hold on to his usual smile, Elmer looks... pale. Almost deathly white. Further inspection would show he's not breathing, or has a heartbeat, and is very cold to the touch. When he comes across someone, anyone, he seems relieved. Maybe you can help him.]

Oh, hi there. Any chance you can point me in the direction of the infirmary? Rather short-sighted of me to think I'd never need it, ha.

Edited 2016-09-25 18:07 (UTC)

A) Bread crumbs

[Jasper doesn't know the story of Hansel and Gretel, but she does know that the best way to keep track of where you've been and where you haven't is to leave some sort of trail behind you or to keep track of landmarks. Problem is, the whole landmark thing doesn't seem to be working and she doesn't actually own anything to leave a path with.

Leaving a trail also means that people can follow after her, and that's not what she wants either. This whole thing is immensely frustrating because normally she has a wonderful sense of direction.

Finally, after walking past the same lamppost for the fifth time, the gem stops and grips it with both hands in anger, twisting the whole thing in half and smashing the lit end into the ground.]

AUUUUGH! How hard is it to find a river??

B) Out of control

[Jasper typically avoids shape-shifting except for when it comes to things like basic attacks. Her usual form is strong enough that she considers relying on tricks to be beneath her.

Today she isn't being given much of a choice.

Having her body change shape against her will is not okay with her, and whether it's her fingers shaping themselves into claws or her legs shortening or extra limbs growing from her back she'll be doing all she can to force the changes away while trying to keep out of sight.]

1. Patrol Wanderings | Various Locations in the City

When dawn of the twenty-fourth broke, nothing seemed to be amiss. Glacius woke up bright and early and went about his usual routines before heading out to do his first patrol... it did not take him long to realize that what he thought was a normal morning was going to be anything but. The central stairway of the Spire he lived in seemed not quite right, causing a strange sense of vertigo that made it hard to tell if he was traveling up or down. Streets that he'd traversed countless times before suddenly seemed to twist and turn in every direction, taking him to destinations he didn't intend to arrive at. More than a couple of times he pressed on despite these difficulties only to shortly end up back at Spire Two, the place where he'd set out from. It was frustrating and absolutely confounding--but the alien refused to give up. He just needed to sort himself out again, get his bearings. Surely that was all.

So he doggedly attempted to continue his duties. Eventually he managed to get to the point where he wasn't getting turned around and wandering back to the Spire... but what followed wasn't all that much better. He had absolutely no idea where he was going any more. Over the days that followed Glacius found himself turning up just about everywhere despite the fact that he meant to follow very purposeful and precise routes. The orchard, the park, the caves, the bar, the Colosseum, the Spires and the houses nestled between them... even the temples of the gods that he went out of his way to avoid... the galactic marshal found himself stumbling upon all of these places and more at some point or another. Through his frustratingly aimless wanderings it didn't take him all that long to discover that other inhabitants of the city were experiencing similar difficulties.

Some of them he'd seen before, so he wasn't shy about approaching--either to offer his assistance or to try and receive some. But he was also aware that his wanderings brought him to some places in Hadriel that he didn't exactly frequent, and many of the faces he was encountering now were new. Therefore, the massive ice alien is measured and tentative in his approach--the last thing he wanted to do was startle anyone. Regardless, the way he usually starts off conversation is roughly the same: "Pardon my interruption, but you look just about as lost as I am feeling right now. There is something very... odd going on. Do you require any assistance?"

2. Power Problems | Shops

As if completely losing his sense of direction wasn't enough, Glacius quickly came to discover other that other difficulties were going to plague him in the days that followed. His ability to summon ice and manipulate the terrain around him seemed to be fluctuating as well. The first time he put his foot down and a spear of ice erupted from the ground before him, he simply chalked it up to the stress placed on his mind by the rampant confusion of this month. He was having a hard time focusing--it had to be affecting him. When it continued to happen, however, causing him to rip up the ground or even in the worst case cause property damage wherever he went, the alien realized with a sinking feeling that this was going to be a persistent effect--much like the disorientation plaguing his mind.

Being unable to purposefully find his way anywhere that he wanted to go and being stuck wandering the city aimlessly was bad enough... but losing control of powers that he had practiced and honed for decades upon decades was a different level of frustrating and utterly embarrassing, and it is clearly wearing on the alien. When someone stumbles upon him by the store fronts, he's fretting as he tries to fix the damage his errant spears of ice have caused--sweeping up splinters and shards of broken items off the floor and into a trash can before he carefully goes about putting the objects that have been scattered everywhere but are somehow still intact back on another nearby table. When he's finished he takes a breath, backs up carefully, takes a few steps... and then his powers decide to flare up again, upending another nearby display.

Glacius gives a dismayed squawk, dropping to his knees as he tries to catch the flying items. This causes him to look up, and that's whoever happens to be passing by at the moment--he sets the various objects down and immediately raises his hand, flustered and embarrassed. This--this is a mess. This is mortifying. "I--I can fix this! I can fix this," he tries to assure them, "I--just--need a moment."

After days of wandering and trying desperately (and fruitlessly, much to his chagrin) to orient himself once more in the city, Glacius has finally made it back to his current residence in Spire Two. He's exhausted, his mind doesn't feel right at all, and he just wants whatever latest weird thing is going on in the city to be over with already. At least he's back in a place that feels somewhat familiar to him, though these past couple of hours have been so trying and disorienting that at this point he doesn't feel like it's beyond possibility for him to end up getting lost in the few rooms that make up the apartment...

Unfortunately he doesn't even get that far. Confusion's manipulations have not just affected his mind, but his powers as well. His ability to manipulate his own shape means that his icy armor has been losing its consistency here and there, and his ability to manipulate the terrain around him means that every now and then a shatter comes out accidentally when he so much as puts his foot down. The ice alien is exhausted from getting lost, having to try and fix damages his that power fluctuations cause as he goes, and from dripping and melting everywhere as he struggles to literally keep himself together. Now he's worn down enough that everything conspires against him-- he takes a step towards his bedroom and to his dismay his once masterfully-honed powers choose this moment to flare up again, summoning a massive spear of ice that erupts from the ground behind him to pierce straight through the softening armor of his middle. Glacius gives a shriek as he's impaled by his own shatter, clearish purple blood spurting up out of the wound--then, off balance as he is, he begins to slowly pitch backwards, sliding further down the spear until he's thoroughly impaled, lying nearly against the ground on his back. The long, sharp point stands above him, shiny and glistening, dripping alien blood down his hips.

... Though this looks bad, it normally would not be a all that big of an issue to the ice alien. He is an extremely resilient creature, and beyond that he has a number of capabilities that would allow him to escape this predicament. Ideally he would simply liquidize completely and slide off of the shatter, freeing himself without any problem. Confusion has stripped him of his ability to control his powers, however, and the disorientation that has been forced into his mind means that he can't focus enough to free himself from the spear one way or the other. He's well and truly stuck... either until the shatter melts, which is going to take a good deal longer given how cold he keeps his room, or until someone comes to his aid. He's not exactly feeling optimistic about that last hope, though, given that he can't reach his phone to call for help and even if he could, no one in the city can find their way anywhere that they want to go right now. Laying at an angle propped on the spear that's impaling him and bleeding seem to be all that he's going to be doing for some time... and suffering seems like it's going to be his only company for awhile.

The Bar [OTA]

[Finally.

It had taken an inordinate amount of time for Chris to actually locate the bar, and he'd done so by deciding not to look for it. In fact, he'd had to firmly set his mind on finding something else--the library--in order to get much of anywhere, but it had still taken two wrongs stops at the Clinic and then Delight's Temple before he actually entered the bar.

But now he's here, thankfully, and is making himself coffee as a reward. Coffee he's sorely tempted to pour a ridiculous amount of whiskey into, but is doing his best to exercise some self control.

He'll be here for a few hours for anyone else lucky enough to make it to the bar, whether they're there for coffee or alcohol or just happened to stumble in.]

River [OTA]

[He was just trying to get home.

Chris had barely noticed he was crossing the river--he doesn't need to cross the river to get home from anywhere he normally goes--before he made a bad step and found himself tumbling into the water; fortunately, despite Chris' general dislike for anything involving athletics he's actually a decently strong swimmer.

Unfortunately, he's pretty sure the water is full of creatures he doesn't want anything to do with, and so it's an incredibly heart-pounding and stressful swim to the bank. He makes it out okay, pulling himself out of the water and scrambling several feet from the bank, but the brief scare has set his nerves on edge and he's already cold from being soaked and this sucks.

So he decides to just take a moment to feel sorry for himself, sitting back down on the ground and wrapping his arms around his stomach, shivering and wondering what he did to deserve this.

Probably a lot, but that's not the point.]

The Caves [Closed to Carlisle]

[Chris is trying really, really hard not to regret voting for Confusion.

Still, when he finds himself at the edge of the caves, it's hard not to wonder if he really did make a bad choice. Surely the GPS will be worth it, right? Right?

But okay, need to leave this area; sure, he's not actually in the caves, but if the monsters are just as mixed up as the rest of them are then there might be a serious risk of running into something that has wandered into the surrounding area. Chris is about to just pick a direction and bail when he catches sight of another person, and not just anyone but Carlisle.]

H-Hey, Carlisle!

[He heads toward his friend, listening for anything that might be nearby, but most of his attention is on Carlisle as he notices he doesn't look great. Hopefully he didn't get hurt or something; he'd already dealt with something like that with Hermann.]

Are you okay?

a.

Everything is fine. Papyrus is just out for one of his patrols, having a great time looking out for the good people of Hadriel. Only, he didn't mean to go this direction?? Somehow he's ended up at the bar when he meant to be more near the colosseum. He forgets where the colosseum is from here... Across the river, maybe? He confidently strides across the bridge and ends up... in that creepy, foggy place. Welp. Time to vacate. He ends up at various destroyed shops and wanders around the orchard for a few hours until finally he finds the armory. Well... This is sort of like a colosseum? Isn't it? Maybe he should just use the picture of the map Sans sent him...

Even using the map, he can't figure out where he's supposed to go, and is starting to lose sight of where he intended to go in the first place. He squints between his phone and his surroundings, turning his phone this way and that, trying to figure this out, but... he can't manage it.

But Papyrus is not one to give up! He decides he might as well just patrol wherever he can find. He takes a confident step forward, and walks right off the side of a bridge into the river.

b.

Papyrus is having some trouble.

He's taking a break from his patrols for now, because he is having some problems he simply can't ignore anymore. He can be seen leaning against a building, sitting neatly, with a concerned expression on his face. He's very expressive for what should be all bone. He removes one of his gloves, and shakes it out over the ground.

Out fall a couple carpals that seem to be missing from his wrist. That's concerning. He needs those.

"Hm! This has never happened before!" he wonders to himself, picking up his bones and inspecting them. He tries to jam them back into his wrist, but they won't seem to stick. He eventually settles for just tucking them in at weird angles that'll still stay in his wrist.

That's when his kneecap pops off.

"Well!!! This is concerning!!!" he exclaims at the sight of his bone just... lying there on the floor. "I am very concerned!" He tries everything to stick his kneecap back on, until, when he's trying to infuse magic into it...

A pillar of assorted bones shoots up from the ground a ways away from him. He yelps in surprise, then stares at it until it dissipates on its own.

Well. This is a problem.

c.

Wildcard! Come up with your own prompt!

[for either prompt, Papyrus can be found literally anywhere in Hadriel! additionally, I will match prose or brackets for any of them!]

1. It's a bird, it's a plane...

[The day started out beautifully.

The fake sun was shining, the temperature's favorable, and the city seemed quiet. It's a perfect time to train.

Rashid walked to a clear spot, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He began his run, easily bouncing, flipping, and jumping between walls. It all went off without a hitch until he worked in one of his whirlwinds.

The thing comes out four times the size. It starts to blow everything away in its path, and Rashid's doing his best to get it back under control.

Soon he too gets swept into it, tossing him into the skies.]

Whoa-! Calm down you dumb wind!

2. Four left turns

[Okay that's enough training for the week. Rashid's not risking using his wind after knocking over some things and wreaking general havoc around the place. Maybe some normal parkour training will do along with his patrol.

And off he goes, back to hopping and bouncing and taking his normal route, when he ends up by the spires? How did he get here? Anyway, he takes off running to get back on track when he again bounces against the wall of someone's spire home.

Good going, Rashid.]

S-sorry. Don't mind me. I just keep getting turned around somehow.

3. Wildcard!

[ooc: will match prose or brackets o/]

Flick really didn't think his sense of direction was that bad. He had intended to take a stroll, get his bearings in this new place. Considering Pell and some of the residents had been here for an awful long time, it was a distinct possibility that he'd be here for a while. So, walking. Checking out the sights, seeing where he might be of use. If it was one thing Flick hated ~~besides specific people~~, it was idleness, he had an innate need to be useful. Or was that just Saltrock indoctrination?

Either way he had set out, looking at different buildings, he had really wanted to check out some of the Temples, but he couldn't seem to make it. At first, he chalked it up to being new, easily turned around without the sun and that creepy cave ceiling above him. But now? Now he couldn't seem to get home. What were his options? Send out a telepathic call to Pell and hope he heard?

That would be so embarrassing. Sure, Pell and Flick had been through a lot of embarrassing situations. Although, really, it was mostly Pell doing the embarrassing. This would be new. He really did think his sense of direction was better than this.

Help? Anyone?

"Hello? I don't suppose anyone can give me some directions?"

Edited (punctuation is a thing) 2016-09-25 23:13 (UTC)

Nick hasn't been this frustrated about not being able to find her way around since her first days in Chicago, after she'd moved there from the small town in Kansas where she was born and raised for the first eighteen years of her life, when the city was still a maze of concrete and bus lines and El stops to navigate. The city was a frightening behemoth then, and Hadriel has turned into much the same thing now, as she turns and takes familiar paths that lead her anywhere except where she wants to go.

The first day is like this, when she leaves her apartment and heads for the bar and arrives at Hope's temple instead. It's irritating, and it scares her a little, though that's quickly subsumed in her anger once she realizes it's the new god's doing. She ends up spending the night in the forest, because getting lost in the dark is surely worse than during the simulated day.

The next couple of days are worse, because Nick discovers she's no longer in control of transforming from Facade to Morphus and back again. It's too much like the first time in Stanley Park, when she Became and had no choice in shifting shapes, and it frightens her more than she'd care to admit. She's still lost, and when her hands start firing energy bolts and her mouth starts opening to allow her high-pitched scream to escape, that frightens her more, because it's too much like being controlled by Rage all those months ago, when she almost killed Maketh, and Nick told herself she'd rather be dead than do this all over again.

Jill Valentine | OTA - will match format

Henry Percy | open & closed prompts