Event log: Who What Where Wendigo

[hadrielmods]

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!

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!

Comments

tw for suicide

[mismanagement]

[Maketh tips her head back, just watching him. Everything is blurry and soft now. For the moment she's lucid, but Maketh knows it won't last. In time she'll shift back to that hungry place and do horrible, bloody things.

That can't be allowed. Shouldn't have happened in the first place, but--

Well. Here they are.]

Did he? Oh.

[Maketh stopped checking the network posts a while ago. She's so tired of this, really, the whole mess. All of it sudden and urgent, and for a while she'd been able to focus in the midst of the chaos because that was her job, she was good at certain kinds of chaos. Cutting it into the proper shape.

Not this. She's looked at people - living, human beings - and wanted to rip their faces off. See what the insides taste like. She's so hungry.

Even now, part of her really, really wants to go for Henry's throat.

Maketh thumps her head back against the counter. Focus. Stay in the moment.]

Don't think I--

I wouldn't make it. That far.

[hotspurred]

Even if I dragged you?

[Henry does not ask Maketh if she is sure. If she has doubts then that battle is already lost, though his conscience compels him to offer.

He thinks of warning her that the only way he can be certain her unnatural armour is burned away is to wait until she feels the flames, but sees the misstep in that: if she has not already thought of it, awakening further fear in her will only serve to weaken her self-control.

He has seen men die of dragon fire, instantly and in slow, fevered agony. Though she asks this of him, he cannot say that she will forgive him for it afterward. She is not living with the memory of it yet.]

Be there aught on you that you wish kept safe?

[He questions, as he steels himself.]

Set it aside.

[mismanagement]

I'd attack you.

[She wants to do it even now, a nagging thought in the back of her head and deep in her gut. And even though Maketh has known hunger before, as a child and later in training exercises, it's never made her angry like this. Maketh doesn't trust that. Anger propels men beyond reasonable measures.

No. It's better this way. Safer. Logical. Maketh takes a shuddering breath.]

I left--notes. In my apartment. Tactics and corrections to the map. Use them.

[Maketh almost tosses the coat aside - it's a good coat, someone ought to make use of it - but hugs it to her chest instead. She's afraid suddenly, of what it might feel like. It's possible she's died before, back on Lothal, but she doesn't remember it. Only waking up afterwards.

This, she'll remember.

Maketh tips her head back, until she's sure she won't cry. That's not--professional. It will be worse if she cries. Henry might hesitate. This is an awful, cruel thing she's asked of him, but he can't hesitate. She gives him a crooked salute, eyes closed.]

That will be all, soldier.

[If she makes it an order, then maybe....maybe it won't be so bad.]

[hotspurred]

[Under any other circumstances Henry might have something to say about being called a soldier, but right now it doesn't even cross his mind. Maketh is as prepared as she will ever be, as is he, and it would be cruel to draw this out. He does what is second nature to him, what he is famous for: commits with no thought of retreat.]

Forgive me.

[Henry says as he draws into range. He douses her with the kerosene and tosses the bottle away; he takes his torch back into his right hand and thrusts it forward, setting her aflame. Dropping the torch, he kicks it aside -- fortunately the tiled floor won't catch alight and he might need it later -- and draws his sword, shield foward and ready.

He watches her burn, his gaze dark and unwavering, waiting for the opportunity to dispatch her or the monster in her to retaliate. Whichever comes first.

If God is merciful, it will be the former.]

[mismanagement]

Kerosene has a certain smell, very strong. Unforgettable really. Utterly primitive. When Maketh was a child, her parents used it to light fires in the kitchen because it was cheap and they couldn't afford anything else. Maketh takes a deep, shuddering breath. If she swallows some, it'll get in her throat and then she'll die faster. More effective that way.

Be logical about this, she reminds herself. It'll be over soon.

Then the fire comes, and she burns.

There is no logic in that. Maketh howls, tipping forward, grabbing at her arms. She intended to hold still, ride it out stoically to the end, but she's never been burned before, not really. This is something new and horrible, and it hurts. It hurts and she screams as fire burns down her throat and the monster hiding in her bones screams too - an inhuman, angry sort of thing that echoes through the whole room.]

[hotspurred]

[Henry has never heard a scream like it before, for all his familiarity with war against men and against monsters. Maketh's dreadful, chilling cry will haunt him for days to come. He resists the urge to silence it, lest he strike too soon. He tries not to compare the stench to the fields at Normandy and Champagne.

Not yet--

Finally he sees his chance. Without hesitation, he cuts her down.

The stroke of his sword feels like a mercy.

Henry does not wait around now that the deed is done. On his way out, he tears down a curtain with more violence than strictly necessary and wipes his sword clean on it, before sheathing his blade and dumping the fabric. He leaves his still burning torch behind.

Outside, he leans against the wall of the house and presses a gauntleted hand to his face. The silence is a blessing. After a moment, he says a short prayer for Maketh's soul, then pushes himself off and heads home.

The rest is in Hope's hands.]