hadriel_logs | Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

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Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Rage event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 15th-December 20th
Warnings: None! Well, potentially rage-induced destruction and fighting and maybe a tiny bit of murder? So, nothing out of the ordinary.

December is usually a time of festive holiday cheer... unfortunately, Hadriel isn't the sort of place that respects holidays. Rage has decided that it's time she's given her due and has put on another event! Unfortunately for everyone in the city, this event means that all characters are given a particularly aggravating pet peeve that entirely sets them into a flying rage.

See someone sleeping? They're now the object of your ire. See a tall building with a bunch of windows? Suddenly, all those windows need to be smashed. Fights are breaking out with depressing regularity, and a couple of them might be severe enough to injure someone in a bad way.

Look out for your fellow prisoners in Hadriel, and do try to figure out the categorizations of each person's issue fast- falling into these cycles of anger isn't good for anyone and is bound to make someone mad if you treat them wrong. Conversely, instead you can just find someone who has the same loathing as you and let your feelings amplify one another; after all, the best sort of friendship is one that's formed by mutual hatred!

► This log covers December 15th-December 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you get too caught up in your feelings and start a fight only to see that the person who pissed you off was really good at fighting, or if someone blew up the building you were kinda living in, please let us know here!
► As a final note, if you were not sorted and you would like to be, then please let us know in response to this post!

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Flick really doesn't want your gun Pell. For one, he really doesn't know how to use it. Second, he doesn't like weapons. And lastly, he just makes to make sure you're okay and that you don't accidentally kill him. That would be a bad ending to the day.

"Trying to help you so we can get you to the clinic without you dying, or me having to carry you." Which, lets be real, would probably be more like dragging. It wasn't like Flick was the work out type. He called upon Agave, asking him to help clear both their minds and help heal Pell. He wished he had a sacrifice of some kind. Maybe Pell's blood? Ugh. Too bad you couldn't ritually kill one of those monsters, Pell.

"Help me how..?" It feels like his legs are going to give out and he needs to keep moving or sit down. So he sinks down beside Flick, one arm protectively hovering over the still bleeding gash across his chest.

Flick took a look at Pell, his injury, the still bleeding wound. Screw it, he was using Pell's blood as a sacrifice. Bringing his hand up to Pell's wound, he pressed his hand against it, letting the blood stain the skin on his hand before bringing it back down. Using the blood to complete the ritual, Flick looked up, not feeling anything.

Maybe he was too nervous. Maybe the situation wasn't right. Or maybe he was right the first time and he shouldn't mess with things like this. Flick ignored Pell's question, not quite wanting to get into the how and why's. He was going to, he knew. But like the self enlightened har he was, Flick wasn't to avoid it as long as possible.

"Anything?"

He shakes his head, loose strands falling around his face. "Here. We're advancing your lessons."

Flick's managed to light candles, he can focus enough to lend some strength if nothing else. But Pell has more hope than that. He takes Flick's hand and presses it back to the wound.

"Channel your energy. If you apply your will, what you see in your mind's eye will become reality." He tries to remember what Lianvis taught him, how he put it. His mind is too clouded to remember the lessons. "The cut will feel wrong. Focus on making it right, mending what you touch. You can do this."

Right. Nothing quite like real world experience. Although Flick would have preferred a wound that wasn't bleeding so profusely. Like a paper cut. But yet again he was being thrust into a sink or swim scenario. For a brief minute he thought about sending out a prayer to Aruhani, but decided against it. The Dehara hadn't done anything for him, least of all right now. And when they did manage everything got screwed up.

Flick nodded, closing his eye and focusing. His caste training had never progressed very far, and then he'd gone down the rabbit hole with Itzama, but that wasn't useful here. Either the Dehara had abandoned him (or perhaps it was the other way around), they were powerless here, or perhaps, Flick had made it all up. Stories made in the height of delusion, created by whatever that stuff Itzama had given him.

But, still, he knew how to focus his will. He managed a quite successful grissecon with Ulaume. "Alright, I can see it." Flick applied energy, focusing it through his hands.

"Good. I can feel it..." He closed his eyes and let Flick's strength wash over him, the gash itself tingling with warmth. The anger and pain fade under the attention and his own focus, back to a dull roar in his mind. "You know what you're doing, Flick. Picture it healed and it'll happen." He tries not to draw too much on the energy so Flick can channel it better himself and not be exhausted when this is over. He trusts his friend.

The wound is closing slowly, knitting together from the edges and Pell grits his teeth -- it is strange, he knows what Will meant now by an intrusion. Someone else is manipulating his body and even though it's for good there's a tiny instinct that wants to fight against that. He stamps it down. "You've got it."

Flick opened his eyes momentarily so he could see the work, see the wound closing. He continued to push the energy into Pell, willing the wound closed, the wrongness gone. He had the image in his head, Pell, healed, alive, well. Plus it helped control his anger toward canned food to see his friend hurt, actively bleeding. He was most definitely not thinking about how he was going to go back and hit Ulaume with a hammer when he finally got one. He should have just given him the hammer.

If Flick knew Pell was trying not to draw too much of his energy, he would have been a little ticked off. Good thing he didn't know. "Are you holding up okay?"

Flick continued channeling the energy into Pell, catching on fast. He jumped caste levels pretty fast in Saltrock, but then of course, lessons got side tracked. Other things just seemed more important. Like making food and cleaning the floors. You couldn't do that with energy.

"I am, it's getting better." He opens his eyes to look, then, at Flick's progress, as much as looking at the wound makes him woozy. Slow breaths and he'll be fine. --and it seems he will be fine. The bleeding has stopped and what's left of the cut fits beneath Flick's hands, now visibly shrinking. He exhales in relief, then smiles at Flick.

"I almost can't believe it." He's not sure he could have caught on as fast, but they have been working on the concept, and. You know. Sink or swim.

It's was kind of funny when Flick stopped to think about it. He'd always be connected to Pell, even if you discounted their friendship that would hopefully survive the years and Thiede's interference. Pell came from Thiede, in a way, it was partly his blood dripping on the ground. Flick, from Orien.

"We should probably talk about that....Sometime. Not here." And of course, not while he was working. Flick continued concentrating, hoping he was doing it right, giving Pell a steady enough stream, but not too forceful.

"Talk about..?" He's distracted by watching Flick work, by the feel of his friend's strength flowing into him.

He taps Flick's hands when the wound is closed up, and there's a fresh pink scar where it once was. Pell thinks he can work on that himself, at least make it less obvious. He shifts, stretching out his injured leg. "Do you feel up for one more? Or we can definitely make it to the clinic now."

"What happened to me before I met Lor. I didn't go directly to try and see your parents Pell. I got....waylaid."

He nodded and looked at his friend leg. He was woozy, but he wanted to keep going. He'd sleep later. "I think I can do it." Flick did his best to dance around the subject, while keeping his concentration on Pellaz and the healing work he was doing.

Waylaid? That sounds... ominous. But Flick is still focusing, so he just nods. "You can tell me when we get back to the house." They're both going to need to wash off, and he's going to have to eat something. For now, though, he lets Flick work. When his leg is healed to the same extent as his chest he flexes it... it hurts, still, the muscle weak, but he's pretty sure he can walk on it. He reaches for Flick.

"Help me up?"

Flick reached over and gently pulls Pell up. Like Pell, he definitely needed a wash, maybe a nap. A nap sounded really, really good. He was a little woozy and drained, expected after work that he wasn't quite used too.

"Yes. I'll tell you then. I promise. How are you feeling? " Flick presumed when they finally got home, Cal would finish helping Pell, or maybe Pell would work on himself alone. Which ever it was, he knew this session wasn't quite enough, especially since he was new.

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Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

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