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

Entry tags:

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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Anyone out by the river today might hear the sounds of a not-so-friendly, very one-sided conversation.

Firo’s standing on the very edge of the shore, shouting into the water. “What’re you looking at?!”

The object of his ire, a fish, continues swimming in languid circles, undisturbed. An obvious show of disrespect if Firo’s ever seen one. He has no choice but to escalate things—this is how it always goes in fights, and he can’t make any exceptions even for an animal. Especially not for an animal.

He growls, low in his throat, and stomps sloshily forward until he’s knee deep in the water. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Get back here, you son of a bitch!”

[ooc: Brackets or prose is fine; I’ll match your style.]

Wade was never the kind of guy known for keeping his cool. Even before the experiments that gave him his healing factor permanently addled his brain, Wade's emotions always tended to run on the hotter side-- and three years worth of PTSD, psychological torture and the triggering of some pretty nasty abandonment issues haven't exactly done much to ameliorate that. No matter how languid and nonchalant the mercenary might be, his emotions are essentially a powder keg-- the smallest spark ran the risk of causing a huge flare-up in the span of a few seconds.

Unfortunately, such sparks will be in much more of an abundance after today.

It had started with a mild form of irritation at the beginning, easily attributed to hunger at first. All Wade had wanted that morning was a hot meal of eggs and back bacon, and when the cupboards of his house had proved fruitless, Wade reluctantly set out to find a store with some decent breakfast.

He honestly wasn't sure when or how his irritation escalated to outright rage, but the store offered no relief for his cravings. Instead he was assaulted by the sight of cans as far as the eye could see, on every shelf and display in the store. Whether it was the association of canned goods to the desolation of Haven or whether it was simply him being hungover and hungry and cranky, something suddenly snapped inside Wade after less than five minutes of perusing the various selections in the store.

Anyone who ventures near this particular storefront will hear a cacophony of chaotic noises-- glass shattering, gunshots echoing and just a general din from within the store, and if one listened closely one would hear what sounds suspiciously like "FUCK YOU CHEF BOYARDEE YOU MASS-PRODUCING MOTHERFUCKER".

Proceed with caution, gentle citizens.

[Wake up call!]

[Kain is on a mission. He cannot allow others to fall victim to that pathetic activity known as sleep. He’s pushing himself to stay awake too, and he’s stubborn enough to make it happen. But others, he’s not so sure about. They might need a little "help."]

[That's why in the middle of the night, Kain is sneaking around Hadriel to find unsuspecting sleepers and WAKE THEM UP. He even starts going inside buildings. Good thing he can jump because that means he can and will totally leap up to high windows of the spires and break in them to get inside. Nowhere is safe. He even lucks out wherever windows are already broken (SHOUT OUT TO YOU WINDOW-HATERS!!!), and if he sees anyone breaking them he’s sure to ask if they can work together for a time.]

[Once he’s in someone’s room, Kain forcefully shakes the person awake and angrily yells at them.]

Wake up! Wake up now!

[Sleep deprivation]

[After a few sleepless days, fatigue is setting in, the signs are hard to miss. Kain has deep dark circles under his dry, bloodshot eyes and an overall disheveled appearance. Physically, he’s a bit of a wreck. He’s all sluggish, zombie-like as he wanders around on patrol. His thoughts are all foggy and muddled, his judgment is completely out of whack. But what kind of guard allows something stupid like sleep to get in the way?]

[Unfortunately he’s… kind of at the point where hallucinations are starting to happen. Small things at first, the sound of someone from back home, or thinking he’s seeing something out of the corner of his eye. Then it gets bad… really bad...]

Manikin!!!

[Thinking he’s seeing one of his enemies from the gods’ war, Kain charges into battle mode, swinging his lance at the empty air.]

asleep all over the city; it's completely normal, everything's completely normal!

[Sans likes to thinks he's bulletproof. And he is, in a lotta ways. You throw somethin' at him and it rolls right off - he's perfected the art of the lazy smile and the deflecting parting remark, how to play up his own profound lack of action to comedic effect.

So here's somethin' about Sans you should know. Sans sleeps a whole lot. Sans wears a jacket pretty much constantly. Sans eats food right outta the cans like a horrible goblin. Sans makes a real big habit of deescalating potentially explosive situations. Sans owns a pet fennec fox and has spoken plenty of times about how he's worked with dogs back at home.

He snoozes here and there, catchin' a wink before the anger has a chance to take root in the core of him, too tired to follow up on the itch startin' to hitch its claws into his SOUL.

Have at it, folks.]

breaking windows; hey, look out! we're angry people! exploding in love!

And then he wakes up.

It takes a little while for the anger to set itself in there, boiling up in his marrow really nicely. He ain't an angry person, not by nature. Anger takes time, see, and anger takes work. Most of the time it just slip-slides right off, snow off a Snowdrake's back. 'Cept, well, it ain't goin' away this time.

And this time he gets a pretty fantastic outlet for it.

It takes him a while to figure out what it is, mind. First it manifests itself in a sorta - atypical restiveness. He gets up off the couch. He goes upstairs. He counts the windows. He goes downstairs. He counts the windows again.

He tries to go to sleep.

He can't.

It's the goddamn windows. What the hell are they even for, anyway? To let in the wonderful morning sun? Heh, right. And what're they doin' now? Compromisin' structural integrity? Lettin' people in when he don't want them in anyway?

Almost as an afterthought, Sans hefts up a frying pan and chucks it through the window. Shards of glass go pinwheeling in every which way, and he utters a short, undeniably satisfied chuckle. Heh. Yeah. Why not break every last one of these wastes of space, huh?

So that's what he sets out to do. Sometimes he don't even bother to pick up an object. He just ambles along the streets of Hadriel with his hands buried in his pockets, and a nearby object will simply lift itself up and go barrelin' up through any building with more than three windows. Hope you weren't doin' anything important inside, 'cause Sans ain't stoppin' for anybody.

breaking buildings; we're completely normal! throwing bottles at god!

[It escalates. It ain't just the windows, see. The windows are just the icing on the shit sundae. It's the whole principle of the thing. The entire structure built around the concept that there should be more than three of 'em, and can't people see there's no fucking point? Who designed these pieces of shit buildings anyway, huh? Who thought this was real important to have, fucking windows?

Sans halts in front of one building at random, his grin wide and ruthless. Then, with a low, sparking ping! his left eyesocket ignites with an amber-and-cyan flame.

The gravity in the area starts to go real screwy. The house judders on the spot, support beams being loosened, plates and appliances crashing and splintering to pieces on the ceiling, chunks of brick and mortar and stone rippin' themselves outta the walls to go soarin' through the windows with a series of spectacular crashes.

He don't stop until the entire building is reduced to rubble.

And then he meanders along on his merry way.]

[ The lack of sleep wasn't so difficult to deal with, in the beginning, exhaustion having always been a permanent facet in her life, like the bags beneath her eyes, but the days without sleep begin to take their toll. They leave her irrational and violent; emotional and easily overwhelmed. She handles it as best she can, distracts herself with paint and a brush, spends her time painting increasingly dark murals out in the city, but it never feels like it's enough.

It's as she paints that she hears Kain's war cry and she whips around, gripping her paintbrush like a knife, heart pounding, startled. She's ready to leap into action only to watch as the dragoon attacks empty space, nothing there. ]

Kain? [ She calls out to him, hesitant and afraid. What the fuck does he see? And is it real? ]

[Firo turns when he hearts the voice.

He doesn't find anything odd in the flare of anger that shoots up when he looks at Shadow. He certainly doesn't connect it to the fact that he's talking to a hedgehog--no, instead he just assumes that he has perfect reason to be angry at Shadow. Why wouldn't he?]

None of your business. Are you following me again?

[He wades back to shore to face Shadow. Now that he thinks of it, he's been sitting on some stuff to be angry about for a while... He should let this all out now.]

Never mind. What about you, huh? Have you been taking care of yourself?

[He says it skeptically and with a tad of vicious concern, as if he's going to start punching things if the answer is no.]

Firo likes his neighbors. Most of them.

There's one that he's not so fond of, at least today. The fish catches his eye through the window as Firo's walking by to go about his business. Firo stops in his tracks and looks back at it--it's mocking him, isn't it? The audacity of the thing! He mutters under his breath about seeing if the fish is so tough when there isn't a wall between them. Maybe he'll find out.

He continues staring at the weirdo and debates knocking on the door to ask Rey to let him in. Surely she'd understand the need to deal with this--he just hopes that she's not too fond of the fish, or else this might get awkward.

Sato isn't too perturbed by the first window in the house being broken. Or the second. He's lying on the weird sofa, playing Ms. Pac-man idly while he thinks about his plans.

But by the time the third window goes, it's about time to see what's going on.

He manages to duck just in time to miss the rock careening through the window he was just about to look through. There's no sign that Sans did the throwing, with his hands in his pockets, but then again there's nobody else out on the street either.

"What's going on now?" he calls down from the (broken) second floor window, quizzical.

Sans is a pretty chill guy, all told. It's hard to get people to believe he's even remotely a threat, and that's all well and to the good. He prefers not bein' much of a threat at all. So he tosses Sato a cheerful wave, showin' next to no indication that he's the source of the large chunk of rubble that goes flying into yet another window in the same moment.

"Oh, nothin' much. 'Sup?"

There's no indication, but it's still suspicious, given that there's nobody else around. Even if Sans is responsible, well, it's not really a big deal, just a minor annoyance. But what prompted this all of a sudden?

"I suppose the gods have decided it's time for some property destruction," Sato says, offering an equally cheerful smile. When was it he talked to the skeleton before? Oh, right... "Some kind of magic, I expect? Maybe you would have a better idea than me about that kind of thing."

He lifts his shoulders in an incremental shrug, plainly unconcerned.

"Guess so." He don't blink or look away, and then there's the loud smash and tinkle of broken glass as somethin' else gets hurled through another window downstairs. An awful lotta windows 'round here, aren't there?

"Pretty wild, right?"

[Listen...let's be real here. Warrick is spending the entire event carrying around a torch threateningly around buildings, clearly intent on setting them aflame unless he's stopped with very good reasons. Some are tolerable... Most of them are begging to be burned to the ground with their ridiculous number of windows.

That said, Warrick is also wearing a snazzy coat/cloak thing and being followed around by a nug wearing a collar and leash. There will also unfortunately be a day where he knocks out for twelve hours of sleep he's impossible to wake from. Sometimes he laughs? Weirdo. At least he doesn't eat anything that comes out of a can, just bread.]

[...well this is something you don't see every day, even when you're the ghost of half of a teenage alien.]

Dude. The fish knife your gramps, or something?

[he's so mad]

Sato just wanted to go somewhere for a little peace and quiet. The sound of every window in his neighbourhood getting broken was annoying while he was trying to beat his high score in Ms. Pac-man. So he went to the park, thinking that without a building in sight, maybe he could just relax under a tree and work on it.

But once there, it wasn't long before a couple jabberjays screeching back and forth in the trees disturbed the peace in a different way.

He's never felt very strongly about much, so it's a surprise even to himself when he feels an absolutely intense hatred rise up out of nowhere. Fucking birds. They have to go.

By the time anyone shows up, he's following the birds from tree to tree, trying to shoot them down with a crossbow. Almost as bothersome as the birds was the feeling that he could tell this wasn't right. Something was definitely going on. And yet, he was ambivalent about being emotionally manipulated... it was certainly a new experience to feel like this. On the other hand, those birds were pissing him the hell off.

What he wouldn't give for a shotgun right about now.

Edited 2016-12-16 00:14 (UTC)

[Chara knows a little of irrational irritation. Somethings just annoy others, tapping feet, whistling, and so on. But today was...strange.

Although Chara wears a long-sleeved sweater, it was getting cold enough that it called for a jacket on top of that. They didn't want to get sick and have to deal with that. But when they reach for the one they had picked out, they feel...irritated. So irritated and it only grew as the child stared at the jacket.

Looking at their own sweater didn't provoke such a reaction. It was the jacket's fault, they think, and Chara knows how to fix it. Ball that sucker up and go find a window to drop it out of. One that hasn't had a hole blown out of it yet anyway.

A little later on in the day, they feel that irritation grow until it was full blown anger. So the Fallen Child does what any child would do and goes hunting for jackets. All of them, even if just left alone on the ground. Even if someone's still wearing it. They have to die.

* ....how many are left???]

"Oh, I think we've all seen worse, but it is a bit noisy. I do hope it calms down soon," he says pleasantly, but... perhaps a little pointedly. "I was trying to concentrate on a game."

Sans cocks his skull to one side. He can read pretty well into tone when it suits him, but right now? It don't suit him any. He's still smilin', though, cheerful as ever.

"Were ya now? Well, I guess I'd be careful." Crash. Crash-crash-crash. There goes somethin' inside that went in a little too far. Whoops. He doesn't care. "Sounds like the place is a mite unstable."

[Already angry, Firo's not exactly in the mood for snark, so he's already snarling when he turns to face the newcomer.]

I'll tell you what he did, lady--

[He stops short when he actually gets a good look at her. For a moment, the fish is spared.]

...Hey, miss, what the hell happened to you? You should worry about yourself before you go asking about anybody else.

[Why. Why is this happening to her?

Maketh gives herself a moment of incredulous staring before shaking herself out of it and grabbing her rife. They are not setting buildings on fire!]

You! What are you doing!?

[Quick, fish...swim away to your freedom...]

Um, wow, rude? I stepped on a landmine, thank you for asking, random stranger.

[She's about...half teasing, but she's really good at this whole offended thing. Especially if it helps this knife-wielding fish escape.]

Curufin hasn't yet picked a place to live, so he is spared the HORRIBLE SIGHT OF WINDOWS for the first few minutes after waking. He is sleeping on one of the lawns, wrapped in his cloak. He had gone to the bar and got thoroughly hammered the night before. Now he yawns, rolls over, gets up, rubs his eyes, and starts walking towards the nearest road. But when he gets the sleep out of his eyes, he looks up and. . .

WINDOWS. SO MANY WINDOWS. WHY DOES A BUILDING HAVE TO HAVE ANY AT ALL?????

Rage starts boiling up from his chest, his heart expanding with a thrilling sensation, and then a volcanic explosion begins within him. RAGE. Oh what a lovely feeling. He hasn't felt this good since he got himself and his brothers killed at Menegroth, and how he has missed it!

But he is a practical man, even in a fury. He walks around the building, counting up the disgusting squares and rectangles that open onto chaos -- for that is how he perceives them, and his hatred grows as the count grows.

And then he grins like a maniac, and takes off running, returning to the shop he has begun building and equipping with what he needs to create his own forge, glassworks, carpentry shop, and distillery. (He is multi-talented.) He bangs the door open, rummages the shelves and begins to assemble the chemicals and materials he will need, and to process them into sticks of dynamite. Being a Fëanorian craftsman, he works like the devil, and in less than a day he walks out of there with a rucksack full of explosives.

And then he returns to that hateful, diabolical building, for his heart has fixated on it as evil personified. He is going to eradicate it. He smiles his brightest, whitest, most savage smile. He knows how to blow up a building. He's built enough of them in his lifetime, and demolished a few, too. He knows just where to lay the charges.

But of course, it would help if he could work in concert with others. Many hands make light work, as the mortals of his time used to say! Otherwise, he'll do it himself.

Edited 2016-12-16 07:27 (UTC)

To no one's surprise, Rey hasn't been sleeping.

At least this time she has an excuse. Or about as much of one as anyone can get around here. It's been seventy-six since she's last allowed herself some shut-eye, with very little progress in sight. If not for her already existing habits of staying up days past her bedtime, maybe she would be more weary when she glances out the window to find Firo. Just staring back.

Rather, staring at the fish. At 'Wellingham', as Nick has opted to call the damn thing. But from this angle, it's hard to tell.

Sliding the window open, Rey sticks her head out and blinks down at Firo.

"What are you doing?"

Come on, bro. Don't be that creepy movie monster that just stands outside people's houses, trying to creep them out. You know Rey is going to be more annoyed than spooked by that shit.

Gren was walking past a storefront, minding his own fucking business, thanks, when it suddenly sounded like a small war erupted inside. Cursing, gunfire, the sound of shit breaking all just slams out of that really unfortunate shop and hits Gren's way-too-sensitive hearing with the force of a mack truck.

On a normal day, Gren's tolerance for this sort of shit is sitting somewhere around the negatives. Today, he's pissed, there's a headache lingering behind his eyes from last night's lost battle against alcoholism, and he can't find Rhys anywhere. That last part is also a contributory factor to the first issue, because Rhys is the only person who knows how to work the fucking coffee machine in their bachelor pad and Gren is severely undercaffeinated right now. He needs Rhys to come home. He needs Rhys to answer his fucking phone.

Then he gets beaned right in the side of the head with a can of fucking Spaghetti-Os.

There's a moment where he's laying on the ground, his vision filled with the red-and-white label over a dented tin can and a whole different kind of ache in his head, that's like the calm before a storm. Then his anger level takes a jump from around a five or six on the scale of badness to invading Russia in winter, and he hauls himself up, grabs that stupid piece of shit can of fuck, and whips it right back where it came from as hard as he can.

[It's probably hard to tell in this cave, where horrible things show up on a regular basis. It could very well be some invisible enemy. Perhaps it even seems that way at first, as Kain dodges and leaps and spins around as if avoiding an enemy. To him it does seem real, though, the manikin as solid as anything else. Though there's this weirdness to it at the same time... everything just feels so off-balance somehow.]

[When a voice calls his name, Kain looks around, the manikin starting to get all blurry and weird in his vision.]

What? [He recognizes her and it takes a moment for his sleep-deprived brain to bring up a name. The painter. That's his first thought.] Sharon!? ...Stay back! [Now that's really freaky though... the manikin is starting to just kind of... lose it shape. Kain keeps on targeting it, but the thing is falling apart before his eyes.]

Yukari has developed circles under his eyes, much to his frustration. Having such things is certainly not beautiful, and he uses lotions and beauty products that he can obtain to alleviate it as much as possible. Sleeping... has been a problem. A big one, a huge one. And he has had no tolerance for it at all. As not-beautiful as the circles under his eyes are, sleeping is a hundred times, no, a thousand times less beautiful!

When he's not using beauty products to revitalize his skin, he's taken to patrolling the streets. He plans to alleviate everyone from that terrible weakness. People should know better, and he'll spread the message about sleep. By force if he has to. Those who insist on sleeping are the scum of the Earth, as far as he's concerned, and should be dealt with accordingly.

If he stumbles upon you sleeping, he'll start by kicking you, proclaiming how annoying and not-beautiful you are, and gradually increase violence up to and including slashing you with his sword to prove his point that you need to be awake, and you need to be awake now and forever.

Sleep is for the weak and he is just not having it. With himself or anybody else.

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Page 1 of 32

Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

Firo Prochainezo | ota, any format

Wade | OTA, any format

Kain | OTA

sans | ota, will match format

second prompt

no subject

closed to Rey

breaking windows, event day 1

no subject

no subject

no subject

Warrick Chopper | ota, i'm bracket trash but you do you!

no subject

Sato | OTA : shooting jabberjays in the park (day 1 of event)

Chara | Open

no subject

no subject

no subject

omg warrick

no subject

Curufin Fëanorion | OTA | Any format

no subject

The beginning of the Great Can War

no subject

Yukari Mishakuji | OTA, will match format