ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hadrielmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2016-02-14 10:10 am
hadrielmods) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-02-14 10:10 am
Event log: Who What Where Wendigo
Who: Everyone participating in the wendigo event!
What: The accidental-cannibalism-turned-horrifying-monster event that is the Who What Where Wendigo event!
Where: All around the city
When: Feb 14th-March 1st
Warnings: Cannibalism, body horror, evil monsters lurking around.
Don't forget to check up on the Wendigo Guide that Ami posted!
What: The accidental-cannibalism-turned-horrifying-monster event that is the Who What Where Wendigo event!
Where: All around the city
When: Feb 14th-March 1st
Warnings: Cannibalism, body horror, evil monsters lurking around.
Don't forget to check up on the Wendigo Guide that Ami posted!
On February 14th, Rage and Fear decide to give Hope a little bit of help taking care of the residents of Hadriel - they'll provide some food for awhile. How nice! Except, of course, that there's an extra ingredient in this food. A can of beef stew? Yeah... that might not be beef. But hey, it still tastes pretty good! Unfortunately, some spirits slipped through the Door last time it opened, and they're ready to possess anyone who participates in cannibalism - even if they don't know it.
Anyone who eats the provided meat will be possessed by a wendigo spirit. Over the course of twelve days, they will transform into a monster that feels little but rage and hunger. While at first it can be explained away easily enough (people are super annoying, and isn't everyone a little hungry most of the time?), by February 18th, wendigo transformations are impossible to ignore. A few days after, on February 22nd, the anger and cravings of the wendigo spirit will overcome all other emotions, and possessed characters may begin hunting.
The physical and mental transformation will be complete by February 26th. The possessed characters will have lost themselves completely at that point. While physical healing (done by a character with Hope's blessing or another healing ability) can turn back the physical and some mental effects, they will remain possessed until death or until Hope removes the wendigo spirit - which can only be done on the altar of Hope's temple. So have fun dragging your angry, possessed friends there!
On March 1st, Rage does Hope a solid (because she feels sort of bad) and kills all remaining wendigos. Upon revival, the spirit will be gone and the character will be fully recovered. Hopefully no one holds what they did while possessed against them!► This log covers February 14th-March 1st.
► 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!
► Please report any character deaths right here!
February 14th (CLOSED-ISH to the folks in SPIRE TWO)
With the leftover meat she salvaged from having hunted the giant bears and snakes in the caves, Rey's decided to be a little generous herself. It isn't like she needs to eat that much -- while hunger is a basic need that even a synthetic being such as herself knows well, she just as well enjoys the taste. A few bites can keep her going for a whole day, which was a necessity when you have spent most of your life just struggling to enjoy the whole routine that is eating.
Carrying the basket Hope had left at her door, Rey makes her rounds, starting from the bottom of the second spire. Food packaged, some meat is raw while others have been dried into jerky to better last one through this period of hunger, or simply to tempt them from the gods' offering.
Hopefully, before long, this won't be an issue once they get the damned dam fully functional, if it ever does at this rate.
Once at the door, she straightens herself and gives a couple knocks with her free hand to see if anyone's home. Or living there at all. They will open the door to find a deadpan, scar-faced woman toting her own basket of goodies.
[ooc: As the plot progresses, I will post an OPEN starter elsewhere, for anyone who would be interested in Rey healing your character. Feel free to reply to my plot comment at any time!]
Apartment 401
"I wasn't expecting visitors so soon after moving in here."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
no subject
Not thinking about it is one of his top priorities--an easily accomplished one. The bigger one is getting the lay of the land. That's what he's doing, essentially loitering, when he sees Rey with her bundle.
She's not someone he's seen before, but that's never been the kind of thing to stop him from walking up to someone. "What's up with that?"
He hasn't touched much of the food yet, wary of finding himself sick or poisoned even temporarily in this new place. The feeling of hunger isn't too pleasant by itself, though, and he has to admit that he's plenty interested in her offerings.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Apartment 101
With a frown, Kaz picks himself up from his couch, using his cane to make the short trip over to the door. He's got his gun holstered at his chest, but he won't be paranoid enough to greet his visitor with a muzzle in their face.
He opens it a crack at first, then a little more as he spots that scarred face. He's seen this woman around, given that they're neighbors, but as far as he's aware they haven't spoken before. Still, when has he ever turned away a pretty face?
Miller's gaze shifts down to the bundle in her arms. "House-warming gift?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
sam winchester ✘ feb. 18th - onward; ota & will match format.
but then – he should know by now not to take anything for granted when there are gods involved, and though he never would have thought to blame the food supply for anything that begins changing within him, hindsight is always twenty-twenty, as they say, and he should have seen this coming.
( he tells himself that the moment he starts feeling off, when the irritation and the hunger take root at the base of his spine and curl around him from the inside out, something that begins as subtle and continues to build over the next few days. )
and that's when he realizes that he doesn't feel like himself anymore.
alarming, to say the very least, when the first of the physical changes come; the claws and teeth are first, the new pushing past the old and leaving patches of red in the wake of shedding human material, the ache in his fingers and jaw enough to keep the smallest bit of coherence about him as it progresses. ( because pain helps him focus, it always has and always will, even if the slow descent into something monstrous is just around the corner, and it's only a matter of time before he completely succumbs to it, a raging, ravenous mess of what he used to be. )
by the time it's finished, anyone that had come across him before would not be able to tell that it was the same, friendly-faced man that they had first met. he tracks any movement that passes near enough to him, the hunger coiling 'round and 'round in the pit of his stomach and making the anger spike dangerously – the edges of his vision blurring with lines of red, shading the green of activity as the hunter takes over, in every way the exact opposite of what he'd been days before.
ooc; this is a very open prompt, which i hope forgives the vagueness of it. feel free to run into him absolutely anywhere, assume anything you like, take it and run with it, i don't give a hoot. just specify somewhere if you want your character injured or whatever, and we can have all kinds of fun. )
18th
Who knew cannibalism could turn you into a monster?
Sharon, now, is in one of the larger shops, cleaning out the shelves of anything that looks like it might contain any sort of meat product. When Sam walks in, she doesn't even turn to look at him, and just continues to drop cans of hearty stews, and packs of dried meat into her knapsack. ]
I hope you're not here for the hamburger. [ because all of it is going to get dumped somewhere so no one else eats tainted food ]
hrrf sorry for the late reply!
no worries!!
(no subject)
(no subject)
22nd let's do this
(he should probably find out more about all of that, when everything finally manages to calm down, these people calling themselves gods. or at the very least he should ask his roommates a bit more about it all.)
when he crosses paths with sam on the 22nd, the man admittedly looks a bit further along in the process than anyone thom has dealt with on his own before this. that's hardly enough to stop thom from approaching (though perhaps, admittedly, a touch more nervously than any of the previous cases to date).
things have been going so smoothly lately, of course he would grow a bit overconfident.] It's okay, I can help you. [he promises sam, when really he should be more worried about who's going to help him.]
i am so ready bring it.
(no subject)
.. i have no idea what happened to the end of that last tag, but i'm not a dodo, i swear.
lmao it happens
Maketh Tua - open and closed
[Maketh isn’t in a good mood. She’s rather confused by this, as things have been going fairly well. She’s settled in as much as one can in a place like this, found a place to sleep and weapons to protect herself with, even put together something of a uniform – it looks nothing at all like the one she wore under the Empire’s rule, but it serves the same purpose. She likes the process of ironing it every night, too. Usually it calms her down.
Less so today.
Nothing has gone right today, not even the little things. Her joints are aching like they haven’t since her last growth spurt as a teenager and she’s hungry despite eating regular meals. She’s always careful to ration out her food so there ought to be enough except there’s not and it irks her, gets right under her skin, when things don’t go as they’re meant to.
Earlier she tried to sleep the hunger off and woke up out of a nightmare, someone else’s face staring back at her from the bathroom mirror. A stranger with a jagged tear of a smile.
She smashed that mirror. Smashed it to bits and then punched the frame until it gave out and then the wall behind for good measure. Left the shards of glass and twisted metal behind on the floor for someone else to deal with. Her knuckles are still bleeding, though not as much as expected.
It hadn’t hurt at all. That’s the strange thing.
Bewildered, she flees the apartment and goes outside before Amos can appear and ask her to explain. Maketh doesn’t think she can. She just got so mad, the mirror was staring at her and it needed to stop and even the thought of Amos’ voice, with his lilting accent, is enough to make her grit her teeth and imagine doing something bloody to him. Bashing his head against the wall until she sees what he looks like on the inside.
No. Stop. That’s not right.
She’s not going to think about that, nope. It’s the stress getting to her, the newness of this place, the shock of stepping so completely into the unfamiliar. She needs to calm down, Maketh thinks. Control herself. And if she needs to bang her head against the Spire walls until the hissing, bloody thoughts go away, then she will.
She does that for a while. It helps a bit.]
February 20th - closed to Henry Percy
[So. This is happening.
Maketh has left the Spire she was staying in. Better that way. Less dangerous to everyone else. She's so hungry, she can't see, and everything is loud, noise pounding through her skull like so many little nails. Bang, bang, bang.
She had a dream about ripping someone's face off last night. Woke up chewing on her knuckles.
It's getting worse. Just as expected.
Maketh has her moments of lucidity. She feels them slipping, though, knows they won't last.
There's only one thing to do, really. She won't be a threat to others.
Still, it has to be done right, if it's to be done at all.
It takes her a long time to compose the message. She thinks Henry will understand. He's proven himself practical in the past.]
20th;
If she sought rescue, she would have communicated openly to reach as many as possible. If she sought comfort, she would have contacted someone else. She wants someone she knows can kill; someone she thinks will not flinch from killing her.
It is true that if he were the one transforming into a monster, then he would rather die while a portion of his humanity remained. It is also true that he has dispensed this form of mercy before.
He cannot fault her judgement in those respects.
After receiving her text and agreeing to go to her, Henry takes the time to armour himself fully, with his sword at his hip and his shield on his arm. But that is not all. He has no idea of her state, nor the danger she and perhaps other victims present. Though he prays he has no need for it, the precaution of fire is necessary according to what he has heard. So he makes up a torch to light and carry. He fills an empty waterskin with scavenged alcohol that he does not trust enough to drink, and hangs it from the handle on the inside of his shield, in case the worst does happen and a burning torch is not enough on its own.
If Maketh's death is necessary, he will do his utmost to make it clean. That is all he can promise.
There is of course the matter of Hope's cure that she has apparently discarded. Why is what he needs to uncover before all else, on the chance that she may still be saved.
He will do right by her, on his honour as a knight.]
[Henry enters the building Maketh specified with his shield ready to defend and a lit torch in his sword hand, his focus honed in a manner he normally reserves for battle. He is determined to see this to an end.]
Maketh?
[He calls, surveying the room he steps into for any sign of life.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
tw for suicide
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
16th
He can't help the sudden snort, and tries to hide his grin behind a hand, in case Maketh is still upset over...whatever had made her shatter the mirror.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
inquisitor trevelyan ; open
[ Something is very, very wrong. She wakes up for third time shaking, stomach growling and twisting in a way it never has before. It would be closer to embarrassing if she hadn't gotten so concerned over the past few days about whatever it is happening to her. Her fingers have lengthened, just enough to notice. Her skin has paled, her eyes, too, with the vision somehow worsening. The physical changes haven't been the most noticeable, though, because the greatest transformation so far is on the inside, with a hunger like a beast snarling in her stomach, torturing her. At first, she'd thought it was some normal sickness, but before long the idea had seemed laughable, given that no misfortune ever in Hadriel was random or coincidental.
The Inquisitor slips out in the very early morning of the 18th, starving, heart pounding with an anger that's akin to the one Rage had conjured in them all when she'd been revived. It clutches at her like a fiery hand and holds tight, uncomfortable and hot in her chest, and she actually clenches her jaw as she goes, vibrating with the unnaturalness of whatever has made its home in her.
Cecily glances back at their borrowed home for a minute, swallowing with some difficulty. For a split second, like lighting striking the ground, she wants to tear back into the place and just... wreak havoc, or something like it. What she's feeling is a lot like a tornado that threatens to tear her up inside if she doesn't release it outward to rip up the others. Shaking her head firmly, clutching her cloak tight around herself, the Inquisitor stalks onward, convinced now that she's become the plaything of one of the gods again, wondering what she (or they, because she guesses others must feel this way, too) have done to displease Rage. Whatever it is, she isn't going to wait around to cause real damage before she finds out. ]
-I'm sorry. [ She mutters, eyes downcast, as she bumps shoulders with someone. ] I should have been more careful.
[ An angry, bitter through jabs at the inside of her throat, threatening to be released, but she holds her tongue, meeting the gaze of the other person. ]
february 23rd - a note for skyhold mark ii
[ A note is left in the main living area of their home, written hastily and shakily in Cecily's hand. Next to it is Rage's blessing, placed delicately near the letter. ]
It has me. The cure did not work.
I know it will end. Sooner, rather than later, I hope.
Until then, I want to stay clear of the town to avoid hurting anyone.
If it comes to it, use Rage's blessing. I think that it increases your strength in battle.
Please be safe.
Cecily
february 26th and on
[ A wendigo slinks into town as dusk settles on the main part of the city. It looks just like the others, save for a detail most won't notice, which is the mark on its hand which infrequently flashes green. When this happens, the wendigo shrieks, annoyed and pained, and flaps its spindly hand as if to rid itself of the thing.
Cecily Trevelyan, gradually transformed, is hungry. The former-Inquisitor bares her very sharp teeth, blind eyes wide and turned toward the most widely-inhabited section of Hadriel. Caves are good for wendigo, and though these have a lot of light, they also have a lot of food. The monster slinks around buildings and spires, long limbs perfect for climbing and creeping, ears perked up for any small notes of movement. Not very far away, a red blob-like shape becomes apparent and she scuttles up the side of one of the nearby homes, fixed on the person, nostrils flaring.
Blood. Flesh. There's a telltale shriek as she begins to make her way over, not particularly picky about how subtle she's being, much more focused on trying to eliminate that painful hunger that lies in her bones and guides her every step. ]
february 27th
Well, really, it's not been a good few months, but this is just altogether worse, a whole new level of unpleasant. Eating human flesh, turning people into monsters - it's sick, it's deeply unsettling, and it should not have happened to any of them. Only it did. It did, and they weren't able to help Cecily before it was too late.
Or maybe it's not too late. Dorian is looking for her, he's prepared for what needs to be done. What he wants is to find some way to restrain her, to get her to Hope's temple, get her healed properly. He knows that isn't likely. He knows that it'll probably go a different way, that he'll have to use his magic to end things.
He doesn't like that thought at all, but he has reluctantly accepted it. Still, the first thing to do is find her, and so when he hears that shriek - bone-jarring, growing familiar - he turns, holding his staff. Hoping it's her, but also hoping it's not. He's not sure he's ready for this.]
Cecily?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
february 26th
[Once the information started to spread, Rey doesn't leave her apartment unprepared. Though, if not for her armor, she would appear to be rather easy prey, not armed with much in the ways of weapons. If the intel was correct, however, it wasn't like a gun would do her much good, and she was more than efficient with her fire. Seeing that fire was about the only good defense against these things...
[Anyone would probably think that she has a death wish when she willingly leaves her spire, seeing what she has seen and knowing what she knows -- unarmed, no less. Hell, she even puts herself out in the open for the wendigo she had just seen on the hunt.
[Pretending to be a potential unsuspecting victim, Rey decides to head for the park, drawing the hood up of her armor over her head as she walks out.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
18th
With Cecily's cloak up, it's hard to tell her pallor, but her normally bright eyes seem almost milky, and there is no doubting her stiffness. Her first thought is an illness; something simple, like a cold, but then she remembers the post those teenagers made.
This was something different, wasn't it? Sharon swallows, brows pulled down in a look of careful concern. ] You all right, Cecily?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
18th!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
18th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
february 23.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
18th (sorry this took so long to happen)
no problem!!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
BLU Scout || 2 OTA & 1 Closed
Scout hadn't been feeling well for the past few days; probably something he ate. He knew eating random canned food would come back to bite him someday no matter how often Soldier insisted that the best food came in cans. (If it was good enough for the army it was good enough for everyone.)
He was feeling restless at this point, hungry and twitchy and just .. off. His hands looked strange to him, weirdly long and his fingernails had gotten pointed, as had his teeth. And boy was he hungry.
"You uh... you haven't got anything to eat do ya?"
February 26th | OPEN
Scout was long gone at this point, his last memory was feeling like utter crap and laying down on the sidewalk, looking at his freakishly elongated arm by his face. Rationally he knew that he shouldn't be lying on the ground outside, he was obviously sick with some sort of nuclear flu and needed to find a bed and someone to make him chicken soup. But the restlessness had kept him going, wandering around in search of something to eat.
But now there was an elongated horrible creature that vaguely looked like it might have been a person at one point. One wearing a blue shirt even. But if anything got within range, it would spring to life and attack. It was angry and very, very hungry.
February 28th |CLOSED to Nick Valentine
What used to be Scout was hunched over in the street, tearing something apart and eating it noisily. A monster? A human? It was hard to tell with the way the creature was on the ground and guarding its food as if it was afraid something would come and take it.
But then a sound caught its attention, and it started up, crunching up bone and sinew in its jaws before turning and staring with eyes that could barely see. What was there? And was it food?
19th
Bob admits, looking up from the stack of things he's been going trough, hoping to find something himself tucked in the back of one of the cabinets of a broken into store. Unfortunately, it's been pretty well picked over.
"No, I can't find anything either. Sorry."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Feb 19th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
HERE I AM FINALLY
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
johanna mason | two open, one closed
[ Just because the anger is subtle doesn't mean it goes unnoticed. Johanna's rage is a core part of who she is. It's a reaction, an armor, something she keeps carefully polished. Johanna knows the ins and outs of her rage, and what she feels now is new. To the outside, Johanna appears volatile, unstable, but the truth is her anger is just as calculated as every other emotion. Once she worked out how to tame fear and display it for her own purposes during the first Games, the rest became easy.
What she feels now isn't controlled at all. It's brutish, animalistic, and she can't get it to stop. Johanna immediately associates the loss of control with the worst: withdrawal.
So she separates herself, finding an out-of-the-way alley to huddle in. She injects the last of her morphling, hoping to feel nothing.
But the numbness does not come. ]
feb. 24: transform. open.
[ Johanna isn't exactly a supermodel, but it's clear she's never looked worse. The worst parts of her appearance almost seem to be exaggerated: she's paler, with longer, skinnier limbs, and her eyes are sunken back further into her skull than humanly possible. When she moves, she's hunched, and her fingers don't stop moving. They flex, like claws, like she's trying to hold herself back from tearing at the air.
In her more lucid moments, Johanna knows this is no withdrawal: this is death. This is punishment.
In her less lucid moments, Johanna stalks the dark places, hungry. She keeps to the tall trees and tall buildings, places that the human buried beneath finds comforting. For once, when she meets someone, she does not speak. Instead, she bears her now razor-sharp teeth at them, both a threat and a warning. ]
feb. 27: hunt. closed to big boss and lilith.
[ man. motion. scent, hunt, prey, prey, prey.
vanished. moved again. follow. meat.
The prey eludes the wendigo, but it is not deterred. Instead, it is determined as it darts in and out of shadows. It will have this prey. It will feast, for it is so, so hungry. The hunger used to stir a kind of anger, but anger does not belong to the wendigo anymore. It has risen above it, has become the true predator it was always meant to be.
The wendigo shrieks, ear-splittingly loud, and lunges towards its target. ]
18
She's angry. She's even angrier than normal, she's even angrier with him.
He watches her with the needle, and thinks of the junkies and users back home, but pads over to her anyways, in her shaded alleyway, ready to pick her up and take her back somewhere warm.
He clears his throat, and tests;]
Johanna?
[No point in asking if she's alright, when the answer is obviously no.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Feb 24th (PROBABLY A SHORT THREAD BUT WHATEVS)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
feb 24
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
feb 27th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
18th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
cashmere | open & closed
[ Cashmere should know better than to eat food that mysteriously appears at her doorstep. What she should know doesn't stop her from immediately eating the little meat pies that remind her of home. It doesn't taste quite like home, but it’s close enough that sharing doesn't even cross her mind. Carelessness and greed don't have much in the way of immediate consequences, but things soon start to change.
Her mood sours significantly over the next few hours, and Cashmere locks herself in her room where she's occasionally an asshole over network post but tries to keep to herself - especially after shit starts to get weird. any friend or not friend who stops by is going to get a full dose of grade A bitch. ]
open - Feb 17 early morning network post here
open - February 22 onward
[ After Hope’s announcement on the 18th, Cashmere bolted for the outer part of the city. She's not interested in being this monster but there's a primal instinct to stay away from anyone who might try to “help” her.
She's not used to being alone - and quite honestly this is not the first time she's ever hunted a human. She’ll try to find others who've turned like she is, desperate to form a pack while there still some human left to her.
As the end of the month approaches she hides less and gets bolder about slipping into the city. She can't control her anger or the hunger that's taking priority over anything else she might feel. Anyone who gets too close to the spot she's chosen to wait in is very much in danger of being dinner. ]
open - Whenever - choose your own adventure
closed - arya takes care of the wendigo
no subject
Cashmere was dying, and of course she had to witness it. Of course. It was just the latest in a long line of friend and family deaths: first Mycah, then her father, mother, and siblings. Fate hadn't even spared Syrio or Lommy Greenhands, and now it was going to take Cash. Cash, who had been with Arya from the beginning, who Arya looked to as a sister, wasn't going to be Cash anymore.
Which is why Arya can't let Cash run away to die, not on her own. After Cash bails, Arya goes hunting. And on February 24, Arya finds her. Or what's left of her. Cashmere barely looks human, worse than Arya ever could have imagined.
Arya draws her sword and then stands still, just as the Faceless Men had taught her. She barely breathes. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Josh Washington | Open
[It's not strange for Josh to be feeling kind of shitty. He's been feeling kind of shitty for a few weeks now - or a few months. Or maybe since that night on the mountain when his sisters disappeared. Anyway, a general shitty state is not abnormal for him, and especially not now, when his mind is clearing, when he can feel guilty about things he did.
But this is a different kind of shitty. He's irritable, he's hungry, he's weirdly sore, he's distractible - it's not the usual kind of shitty, the kind he's used to, the kind that he feels at the beginning of a slow downward spiral. The hunger is definitely new, anyway, usually he loses his appetite. But he can't quite seem to eat enough, or maybe it's just that he can't find what he wants.
He's in a store, going through the food supplies, looking at and discarding cans of vegetables, soup, pasta.]
Is this really all there is? Come on. This is shit.
[b: february 21st]
[It almost doesn't feel strange anymore. It almost feels normal. The physical changes are something to get used to, but it's like second nature, like something that isn't so very important compared to the hunger Josh feels, the anger he can't control. He can't see quite right anymore, there's something wrong with his eyes and his hands and most parts of him, but what matters is how hungry he is, and how it's everyone else's fault.
He has moments of lucidity, moments where he knows something is horribly wrong, but those moments are slipping away under the onslaught of that gnawing hunger. He pounds at the door of his room - locked since they figured out what was going on - and calls out.]
Hey. Hey! Come on, let me out, guys. I'm fucking starving in here.
[He can still speak, at least. That's something, though his voice is cracked and rough and strange. But it's still a human voice, for now.]
[c: february 26th]
[Whatever lucidity Josh once has is gone, and he's no longer trapped, either. He's loose in the city with the others of his kind, hunting and stalking and hiding. The monsters in the caves aren't enough to sate a wendigo's hunger, though they can certainly try. In the end, though, it's flesh that he craves. That it craves, because this isn't a human anymore, and it certainly isn't Joshua Washington.
It stalks the streets, looking for motion, for the movement that signals prey. One sight is all it takes, because the hunger is a driving force that can't be ignored.
The wendigo, canny and careful, stalks the movement. It doesn't matter what sort of creature this is, so long that it can calm his hunger, his anger, for a moment or two.]
21st
She's no longer afraid Josh is going to straight up murder her in some insane scheme, but rather that he's going to murder her because he's turning into a fucking literal, real life monster.
She stops outside his door when he calls. She knows better than to let him out, but it somehow hurts to hear him this way. ]
You know we can't, Josh.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
16th.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
21st-ish, however works best
perfect!
8D
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
26 (idk /shrugs)
yes good
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
16th.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Emily | 3 closed, 2 open | will match format
[It's so ironic. Emily had gotten the chance to yell at Ashley twice for instigating what had almost resulted in Emily's death down in the basement of the lodge, but it's here, so far from that familiar, awful place, that Ashley's baseless fear comes true.]
Matt.
[Her voice hitches on the name, the only thing that makes her feel anything besides hunger and rage. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's scared of what she's becoming, hunched over and ugly. Claws are starting to push her manicured nails out of her fingers, and her gums are starting to bleed where the wendigo's teeth are pushing her human ones out, the metallic taste coating her tongue almost constantly now. It's a miracle she can manage speech anymore, though she's been doing less of it, her last insults flung at the door a few hours ago before she'd settled for calling for the boy she's never been good enough to deserve. Soon even that will fade away, but for as long as she's able, she will hold on to him. Just like at the radio tower, he won't be able to save her, but he'll still be her hero as the hunger consumes her from within.]
Matt!
Matt!
[Matt.]
Evening of the 24th (Mercy and Revenge, or, Emdigo messes with Ashley and possibly Sam: closed to UD house and visitors)
[This room cannot contain her. A door of wood cannot keep her back. Emily is no longer herself. She is monstrous and swift, climbing up the wall and along the roof to tear through the top of the door, where the humans cannot reach with their barricades.
She lets out a screeching cry and smashes through it with one hand. Gripping the splintered wood, she proceeds to tear it apart and slip through it, then holds still on the other side, listening, watching for the slightest hint of movement--
There.
With another shriek, she lunges for her prey.]
Evening of the 26th (On the Move: open)
[There is so much sustenance in this place, so many moving, breathing, living things to feast upon. The creature that once was Emily glides along the walls, leaps from rooftop to rooftop, pausing now and then to listen and to wait.
The very moment she detects something, whether motion or sound, she jumps and skitters to it, shrieking when she is close to where it last gave away its position. Scare it, frighten it, make it run. She is hungry, and this place is so generous with its bounty.]
Night of the 28th (O Death / the Exorcism of Emily: closed to Mike)
[This one's scent is so enticing. Something draws her to him, to this weak little thing with his fleshy body that she needs to devour. He has evaded her thus far, even fought back, but she will have him, she will have him, she will hear him scream as her teeth tear into his flesh and her claws yank strips of it off his bones.
She leaps off the wall, landing to the side of where he'd last given away that he stands, and shrieks. He will move again, he will make a sound, she will have her meal.]
Whenever (Choose Your Own Encounter: open)
26
So Bob is out in the streets, unaware of the eyes on him, searching for anything that might count as food. Anything.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
24th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
20th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Noah Czerny | 1 Closed, 1 Closed-ish, 1 Open
[Noah's been letting the idea of introducing Clear and the Demon percolate in his mind for a while now. Originally he dismissed it as a bad idea, what with how badly the Demon seems to get along with anyone who isn't Noah. As time passed he started to change his mind, however. Noah, dead as he was, could not be relied upon. Anyone can tell you that the dead keep poor time.
Really, it was actually the perfect idea. Both of them had more time than normal people, and Clear was easygoing enough that Noah thought he wouldn't be put off by the Demon. Also so what if Clear could rip a door off its hinges, Noah was still concerned about him and wanted someone else to look out for him.
After meeting up with Clear at Raven Haus, Noah and Clear made their way out of the suburb-like neighborhoods and into what was probably a downtown once upon a time. He checked out a few of the darker alleyways before finding a particularly shady looking building that was still standing yet clearly not restored.]
I think he's here. I... kinda didn't tell him we were coming. It's a surprise!
[Noah smiled at Clear and gave him a thumbs up, then pushed the door open enough to let them in, calling out a greeting.]
...Demon? It's me, Noah.
Feb 16th (Evening) - Raven Haus or anyone who would reasonably be there
[When Noah returns to Raven Haus later that night - though he's always wary of the night vs day as all they can use to figure that are the strange lights dimming and brightening on a cycle that seems to mimic daylight cycles enough - he looks a little different.
His cheeks are flushed, for one. He's short one Aglionby sweater, and he's breathing hard from the jog back. He's breathing in the first place.
Adam and Ronan he figures will be an easy thing to explain. 'Hey, so I'm alive again!' they've had time to adjust to a living breathing eating and drinking Noah.
Gansey, though... well.
He'll burn that bridge when he gets to it, making his way carefully through the house to see if anyone is home.]
Feb 17th and beyond - Open
[... And he would have been perfectly happy to stay there too, if he could, after the news of the next morning comes out. For whatever reason though, some errand that really can't be put off, he's out and about and terrified. Cowardice wins out against shy and awkwardness every time though, so the second he spots someone who doesn't look like they're undergoing some awful cannibalistic transformation, he's quick to approach.]
Hey! Um, you mind if we stick together? Safety in numbers... and all...
FEB 16TH
When it was mentioned that their meeting was a surprise, he suddenly felt very giddy and placed his gloved hands over his mouth to stifle any noise coming from him. He felt that maybe he should hide and pop out. That's how surprises normally happened, right?
But as it was, Noah was too short to properly hide behind and his clothing was the opposite of ninja clothes. So he just waited while Noah poked his head through the door to properly introduce them.]
Closed - Morning
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
16th, home
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
19th
19th
19th
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
18th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
16th - sorry for the delay!
no worries!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
14-1 OPEN
The downside to this information campaign is that by the 22nd, the place is attracting a little more of the wrong kind of attention. He fights off one attempted intruder in the middle of the night, and then barricades the door in the morning to try to keep any others back, keeping watch unless any of the living try to stop by, and dealing with those long limbed things with shrunken faces that used to be his friends as need requires.
On the 23rd he puts the news out on the network that the place is a hunting ground, and moves to the other side of town with just his medical bag and the clothes on his back.
20th
So he knocks at the door of the clinic before pushing it open.]
Bruce?
[Surgeons always need an extra set of hands, even if it's just to put away tools that had been left where they were because they were too busy and had to move on to the next project.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
21st
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
20th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
16th
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
21st
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
Amos Kamiya - Open
If he's lucky.
For the most part, he's been staying very quietly indoors, in the ground-floor apartment of the first tower. But not all his supplies can last, and there are people out there who need help and protection...
B. Amos moves through the streets of Hadriel quietly, carefully. He touches on the minds of the jabberjays near: a few of them give him a quick "look" at the streets ahead when he asks. His habit of leaving food out for them has definitely helped relations there: not all of them are inclined to help even that little but some...yes.
He's armed still with a bow and arrows, because it's his only long-range weapon, and he is not facing down a wendigo with only his knives. But he's got a lighter in his pocket, so if anyone can give him a good fuel source, he can certainly contribute to setting things on fire.
C: Well, it's not gasoline, but the high-proof alcohol in the bottle will have to do. Amos is armed and ready, and more than willing to hand out surprisingly professional mercy-killing for those who ask.
B.
The birds make things extra irritating. It's not like he can go chasing after anyone yelling; half the time, it's just them. But he does spot a familiar figure up ahead.
"Hey." He calls out a couple of feet away before falling into step beside the man, so that he doesn't get an arrow in the face. "You're still around."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
C
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
closed to house 1402
it's an even toss up whether almost getting killed by a guy he was trying to heal is better or worse than the hospital power outage though. maybe he can ask for an outside opinion once he stops bleeding... well, everywhere really. thom heaves a little sigh (and even that small level of exertion causes a hitch of pain near his lungs) at the blood he unavoidably tracks into the house that newt and peter had so kindly invited to stay, and tries to tell himself he'll be able to get it cleaned up before either of them sees.
who is he kidding though, he doesn't even know how he managed to find the energy to drag himself here in the first place, or how he's even still standing right now, in fact...
thom finds a patch of wall that's more or less clear or anything and just. let's himself collapse down on the ground against it. this seems like a good enough place to stop, right? right.]
no subject
Really, he'd be no use to anyone in the state he was in lately. His own health was at rock bottom- how could he save anyone when he was still working on saving himself?
Unfortunately for Thom, this means that Newt is around. And Peter too, really.
As a matter of fact, Newt's sprawled out on the couch when Thom comes in and at first, he just figures Thom's coming in from taking a walk. Newt's got his head down and his attention focused on what looks like a scrap book. He glances up briefly to Thom and then back down.
Only to snap his head back up. The scrap book hits the floor just a second after his feet do and he's over at Thom's side within seconds.)
Bloody hell, Thommy, what'd you do-
(His voice trembles, worry already bubbling up thick in his gut. He whips his head around and calls out into the house:)
Peter! Peter.
(He turns his head back around and raises a hand to rest it against the side of Thom's neck, gently easing his head back so he could get a good look at the boy's face.)
Fuck. Okay- do your powers work on yourself? How much should I be pissing myself? Do you need anything?
(Someone write this kid a How To Deal With Your Magical Roommates Handbook stat please.)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
clifford norman | 1 open 1 closed
[the feeling of 'not right' in cliff builds and builds with each passing day until cliff is nearly driven crazy by it.
(and on the network they're saying what that might be, but it's fucking stupid, they're definitely wrong, and cliff's not even totally human anyway so it obviously has nothing to do with him, this is probably just some other shitty side effect of being a... fucking shapeshifter or whatever that one guy called it)
hunger is an ever and unavoidable feeling and he wants to take a bite out of people more often than he wants to talk to any of them, which isn't actually that much of a change except for how the idea of biting people doesn't actually gross him out as much as it normally does.
eventually, he finds that he's actually more comfortable in his wolf body, so the next time he changes to make a run through the caves for that stupid map making project he just. doesn't change back after. it's nobody's fucking business anyway what he does. except for how some people might find it a little strange to just see a large (somewhat more lanky than usual, and red fur sporting a few subtle patches of white) wolf padding down the street.]
Feb 22nd - closed to Mike
[he'd always been a large wolf, but these days he's more long legged than hefty, his once red fur gone almost completely white aside from a few stubborn patches around his maw and ears. his eyes are paler now too, but that difference is a little more difficult to notice when they already start out gold.
sudden movements set his teeth on edge with the desire to bite into them, and he's so hungry he thinks he's starting to go delirious.
it's the only possible reason he could think that he'd actually be choosing to move towards more people right now, rather than running in the opposite direction. at least he's a wolf right now and people won't be expecting conversation out of him, because he's pretty sure he couldn't even if he wanted to right now.
he can't even remember the last time he took his human form, isn't sure he even remembers how. he's just so hungry...]
no subject
Must have wandered in from the caves, he thinks to himself. He can't just leave it wandering around, though -- it's a wild animal, one that may end up hurting someone. He approaches it slowly and cautiously, pulling his gun from his coat in case things turn ugly. There's the hope in the back of his mind that he can lure it away without a confrontation, saving him bullets and the beast his life, but he's not going to get his hopes up. It's better not to do that in Hadriel, he's found.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
feb. 22 + onward; open (spire three/elsewhere) + closed for bianca.
This is a terrible situation, obviously, but the fix for it should have been simple. Beyond knows exactly what's happening to him, after speaking with Chris, and he knows the solution, too, after hearing Hope's broadcast. These are both known variables in the equation of what his life has turned into here in this underground city; he could have easily stopped the transformation from overtaking him completely.
It should have been simple, but nothing is ever simple for Beyond. In his mind - what's left of it in the wake of the ever-expanding rage and hunger - accepting a cure from Hope is, in effect, humbling himself before a self-proclaimed god, which is as good as losing twice over.
He's had more than enough of losing, more than enough of being under the thumb of someone more powerful, more than enough of being a victim. Better instead to resist until his dying breath, then. Better to transmute into something horrible and inhuman than to admit defeat.
Beyond barricades himself inside his apartment once it becomes apparent that he's affected by the curse; he suffers through the shifts his body takes alone, out of sight, until the locked apartment door can no longer contain him and he tears his way out, a symphony of screeches and splintering wood.
All he understands now is the need to quell the ravenous hunger inside, fill the gaping void. Onward, he searches.
open my heart and let it bleed onto yours; closed to bianca.
Even the strongest hunter can eventually become outmatched; a wendigo is no exception. They're strong, sure, and fast, but not invulnerable. Beyond is past understanding that death is waiting for him, but that doesn't mean that death has stopped following a few steps behind.
No. Beyond may no longer be able to see death, but death is still there.
no subject
She's armed with her staser and a pair of long knives she found in the armory, but Bianca's main defense involves trying to stay out of everyone's way. She's in what she hopes is a fairly un-travelled tunnel, watching Bud and Lou sniff things, when she hears ...something.
"Is someone there?"