hadriel_logs | Event log: Who What Where Wendigo

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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!

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!

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Amos spooks just a little, nerves high-strung from all the recent danger. He turns a friendly - if sheepish - grin to the man, taking him in with a quick glance. Ah, he's seen him around before, but they've not spoken. "Hi. I twisted my ankle. Is there an ace wrap I can borrow?"

He limps a few steps closer. He can bear weight on it, it's just...pretty unhappy about it. Amos is dead certain it's not broken, though, he's dealt with that before. Strain or sprain, hell if he knows, but tender and swollen, certainly. He did a good job on it.

"Yes-"

Says Bruce, turning around to go find just that.

"-but I'm running low, so please return it if you aren't eaten by a wendigo."

The sentences that come out of his mouth in this city, honestly.

"Oh," says Amos, a little surprised by the idea. Like a library book? How funny! But then, it is a reusable object, as long as it's undamaged... "I'll certainly try. Can't make no promises, with the wendigo an' all. I ain't exactly a great warrior hero or anything."

Amos follows Bruce, more out of curiosity than anything else. New people are always interesting!

"Thank you. It's just the most common injury I see here by far, and these things are a precious commodity."

And, speaking of which;

"Need help wrapping it?"

"Yeah, with all this rubble..." Amos nods. He can see how it'd happen easily in the ruined city. The footing isn't always the best, especially not for running away from monsters. As for help...

"Oh, no, not if you're busy. I've done this afore." Both he wrapping of the ankle and the spraining of it.

"Tell you what. You do that, and I'll put the kettle on."

He should definitely sit down and have a cup.

"You can catch your breath before heading back out there."

Amos sends Bruce a bright, delighted grin. "Oh, tea, yes please!" he chirps, happily. He likes tea a great deal and hasn't found anything here yet he's identified as a decent substitute. He finds himself a seat and settles in with the provided elastic bandage. Though his clothes and boots are grey and black, drab colours, his tall socks are a zany neon paisley: predominately lime green but also featuring electric blue and hot pink.

Stripping off boot and sock, Amos wraps his ankle in a sturdy figure-eight style bandaging, hands working swiftly. He is no stranger to this.

Bruce returns in just a moment with two warm cups, and a small smile. He sets them down on the table to the side, and takes a seat near Amos, picking up his own.

"It's not a conventional leaf, but it's hot."

"Thank you very much for your kindness," Amos chirps, and finishes with his task quickly. He dons sock and boot anew, after some fussing with the lacing and a grunt and a heave to fit the bandaging within the boot. He wiggles his toes and sit back to investigate the tea.

He takes the cup in both hands and for a moment just breathes in the steam: it smells enough like the real thing that he's certain it will do. He sips it cautiously, lest he burn his tongue: he has no reason to suspect Bruce of poisoning him, after all. The man's a healer of sorts, and most tend to preserve life, not randomly poison strangers. After a few sips he grins at Bruce again. "Oh, that's good. Thank you."

"I wouldn't go that far."

To say 'good.' But it's hot, and vaguely grassy, and so it pushes the 'tea' buttons in his head that he needs pushed.

"I'm looking for more sugar, but that can be hard to come by. I think that would help."

Amos chuckles. "My grandmother would never let me put sugar in green tea. Told me I was ruinin' the experience. But sweet tea? Hah, she'd make it with a whole cup in the pitcher, sweet 'nough for syrup." He sipped the tea again, then added, "I was raised in New Orleans, but my grandmother was Japanese, very traditional. Got some interesting culture with that."

A mishmash of traditions and legends and manners both ways: she'd been a strict woman.

"I can see how that would be a complex meeting of tea-traditions."

He admits, with a smile.

"I worked in an iced tea processing plant for a while."

"So you've got some interesting tea ideas as well," Amos chuckles into his cup, taking a few more lingering sips. It isn't the same but it's close enough he can settle for it, and hums a little happy note into the steam.

"I guess so."

He says, and refocuses;

"It's good to meet someone else from Earth. Not everyone is."

"Well. I might not be from the same Earth, but yeah, we definitely call it Earth." Amos grins lopsidedly. "Been finding out there's apparently a few different versions. This would make some theorists at home dance with glee...I honestly never believed in the whole 'alternate universe' or 'parellel world' thng before."

"I mean, the theory makes logical sense."

Says Bruce, as he settles down a little more, with a breath.

"I've seen good science behind it."

"Oh, help, you're a science-y sort," Amos chuckles warmly, ensuring there's no sting in the words. "I'm definitely not, sorry to disappoint. "I'm more of your practical business man."

Of a sort. On the wrong side of the law.

"What kind of business are you in?"

Bruce wonders, unaware that this is, perhaps, not the most tactful thing to ask.

"I'm the personal secretary of the head of a large and diverse company with branches worldwide. We mostly started in the bodyguard business, and we still offer that, but we're also into merchandise an' some weapons importing, transfer of good between countries. Varies depending on which branch you're talking to."

Amos is very good at spinning the yakuza's operations into a legitimate-sounding corporation. "When I'm not being a secretary, I'm my boss's liaison between branches and other businesses, so I get to travel a lot when she can't."

That sounds to Bruce exactly like organized crime- but the key to dealing with organized criminals, in his book, is never to begin to give them reason to suspect that you have even the faintest idea who they are or what they do. If they think they're fooling you, they're far more likely to ignore you.

"I wish I had the head for admin assistant work, but I can barely file my own taxes."

Amos laughs. "Taxes are way too damn complicated. Don't feel bad." He shrugs a little. "We've got somebody else to do ours, thank goodness, it's not my responsibility. I'd rather argue trading terms with rude know-it-all CEOs than do taxes."

He sips his tea and then adds, "Besides, you're a healer, an' that's way more impressive than what I do."

A healer of some caliber, magical or not, and Amos has always held the medical sort in high esteem. They do good work, after all.

"Technically I'm a physicist. But I have enough medical training to get by in an emergency. I am very upset that we've lost our surgeon, though."

He admits, with a breath.

"Oh, yeah. That's not a great thing to hear, in a place like this." Amos grimaces. Yeah, to lose an actual surgeon... "What happened to him, if you know?"

Did he die or simply vanish? Amos wants to know.

"I have no idea. He just didn't turn up to work one day. But he was an army doctor, passionate, and tough as nails. If he's not here," the clinic, "then he's not in Hadriel any more."

"Ah, definitely. I've known a few military folk in my time." Worked alongside quite a few ex-military turned mercenary, or simply retired to a criminal life. Amos knows the type, though, the dedicated kind of souls who were, as Bruce had said, tough as nails.

"Still, you're better'n nothing, and no doubt better'n the few first-aid skills I've got." Amos knows a little more than most, mainly through having to patch himself or others up enough so they can haul butt to a place less full of fighting.

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