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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Forgive the greeting of Amos whirling to face the moption, arm drawn back and ready to throw, eyes suddenly gone hard: he's on high alert and creatures emerging from shadows generally aren't friendly. But he recognizes the voice first, and then the face, and he lowers his arm, a wan smile slipping onto his face.

"Alcohol Demon." He glances at the vodka in his hand. "Well, fun, I guess, though it'd be more fun if I was a li'l less squishy."

Or made of metal, as the Alcohol Demon seems to be. A kind of construct, maybe, instead of fully fleshed? A summoned spirit in a golem shell? Amos is very curious now, but doesn't want to be rude in asking.

"I'm not sure these fuckers burn real well, but I guess this is a good time to find out." He looks a mess, and he's leaving footprints behind him of a goopy oil looking substance.

"You might be squishy, but you still look all in one piece. Which is more than a lot of people here."

"They burn decent enough, if you can hit 'em," Amos answers, grimly. He's got decent aim, but the wendigo are fast and that's what's giving him problems. "I've had a lot of practice stayin' in one piece."

"We gots monsters like this where I come from. You okay?"

"You don't happen to have any useful tips and tricks then do you?" Because right now the Demon would take anything he could get. He's a little too tired to keep teleporting around, and if he gets any more battered than he already is he might start losing pieces of himself.

"Where I'm from we just have people. Supernatural and possessed psychopathic people. But people."

"Oh. We have those too. An' gods an' demons." Amos is beginning to realize exactly how interesting his life has really been. "I tend to stick to places with obstacles, lots of rubble. They're faster than I am, sure, but I'm smaller an' bendier. I can get into hidey holes an' get still an' wait 'em out."

He shrugs. "If you're still for long 'nough, they lose you an' lose interest. Like cats. It's only interesting when it's alive an' screamin'."

"Really? That's all it is? Stay still? I expected a lot more out of this." He's disappointed honestly. He had been enjoying fighting them, but he's a lot more beat up than he'll admit, and shouldn't be starting shit with creatures that are faster and have sharp pointy bits.

"So you just live in hiding? Sounds shitty."

"No, I find trouble, run like a damned rabbit, an' hide in a hole until it loses interest an' I can get a clean shot at its back."

Amos does not exactly play fair, but life is not fair.

"All these people who are good with guns, and we have an armory with no bullets. Almost like they're taunting us."

He doesn't have too many shots left in the guns at his side either, he's been really stingy with his ammo.

"So you're a hunter?"

"I think bullets are more advanced than they are," Amos points out, dryly. He would love to have plenty of bullets himself. A gun packs a slightly bigger wallop than an arrow, in the right spot.

"Not a hunter, really. Just good at stayin' alive. Worked with a mercenary group a few times over the years. Plus my job sometimes gets me sent to some shady kinda places, if you know what I mean." Organized crime didn't always run out of nice office buildings, after all.

"I thought the idea behind Gods was that they could do anything. These ones seem to have a lot more constraints than they have abilities." Which made him doubtful of the whole 'omnipotent gods' thing.

"Mercenary huh. This something illegal and interesting?"

Amos eyes the Alcohol Demon before admitting, "Legal depends on your point of view. Interestin'...my life is definitely interestin'. Not all creatures that claim the title of 'god' are omnipotent or omniscient. I think it's better off for us that these are not - 'specially Fear."

Tilting his head to the side, the Demon considers, "If you say it like that, then I know it's illegal."

"Makes me think they're not what the seem."

Amos's smile is wry and there's something much sharper behind it, like the edge of a blade. There's a steel spine and a darker outlook behind his usual cheerful face. Both are equally true: Amos really is that light-hearted and bohemian-natured, but he's also served his mistress in the yakuza faithfully for twenty years.

"I'd prefer to keep my day job on the downlow, if it's all the same to you. Not everyone appreciates a professional criminal."

"Whatever you say." Though now that his curiosity is piqued he'll probably never let it go.

"Probably for the best since they'll assume you have all the knowhow to take down everything in the cave singlehandedly. People hear 'underworld' and think gun toting mercenary who can kill eight people with one bullet."

Amos laughs. "Sad to say I left my submachine gun at home, along with my expendable flunkies with extra ammo. Katana don't cut it in these modern days with the yakuza."

Though some still do carry it...and Amos has taken off more than a few fingers in punishment. The old ways die hard.

The Demon is missing one himself, though not because he owes anyone money, but because Ethan is a dumbass that let himself get caught by a serial killer. And what happens to Ethan, is replicated on the Demon.

"That's a shame, everyone could use a few disposable people between them and danger." He tilts his head, trying to imagine the kid wielding a sword. "Soon it'll all be internet attacks and identity theft. And then what will you do?"

"Retire!" Amos laughs brightly. "I'm thirty-two anyway. All this fighting business is better left to the young and stupid. And the expendable. My knees are getting cranky."

No sword for Amos: he fights with knives and fists and his reputation...and a nicely-sighted gun. But here he has no reputation, no fear of the boss's wrath to carry with him, and ammo for his gun is very limited. Smarts it is...and a bow and arrow.

"Mid-life crisis already?"

The Demon on the other hand is going to brazenly stalk up to one of the wendigos and hit it in the face with a bat.

Sometimes blunt is the way to go.

"Nope. Just being realistic. Once you've fought with demons and made agreements with gods, you get a pretty damn clear idea of your own mortality," Amos answers, with a cheerful grin again. "And I? Am definitely not immortal."

"Being immortal isn't the greatest either. You could be tortured forever. Imprisoned and forgotten. And just live for eternity in the boredom." Doesn't he have the most cheerful outlook on life.

"Hey, I never said it was better. Just that I know I ain't." Amos rolls a shrug: it's all the more important a point because of the current dangers stalking them. "You sound like you're speaking from experience, though." Is the Alcohol Demon immortal? Amos had presumed so, given his body was not exactly flesh-and-blood.

"Yes and no." He tosses a bottle up into the air, catching it with a flourish before throwing it at something that moved in the shadows.

"Honestly I'm not sure exactly how that's gonna work here. The reason for me even existing isn't here." He shrugs, acting like it didn't matter. But he's a little worried about the whole not being able to be killed because Ethan was still alive. Ethan isn't here, there's no reason for him to keep on existing. In fact he doesn't even know how he was put together, he might just fall apart at some point.

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Event log: Who What Where Wendigo

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