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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The way she talks, it sounds like she thinks she has some higher purpose, and again Firo wonders what kind of job she had back home. "Not the swords and stuff--those are useless in the city--but I'm good with a knife. It's what the guys in my Family use."

He shakes his head at the offer of help. He fills a bowl and offers it to her before filling the second one.

The question from a moment ago is still on his mind, so he asks, "So what is your job anyway?"

While Rey wouldn't exactly consider it a higher purpose, she was created for a reason. She shrugs. "Am pretty decent with a knife, too. Perhaps you wouldn't mind showing how good you are sometime."

Firo seems like a decent guy, but he didn't immediately strike her as the fighter type. But there's always room to be surprised when it comes to people, especially the people who were dragged to this place.

"Used to be a soldier," she says as she accepts the bowl of soup handed to her. That's a long story short, anyway. She's just met this guy, so she figures it'd be better to keep things simple for now.

Firo smiles at the offer. No need to worry about getting rusty here, it seems. "Not at all. Just give me a time and place."

"A soldier?" His forehead wrinkles, and he pauses before sitting down at the table with his own bowl.

Well, she certainly seems different than a lot of the women back home... But he still never would have guessed that. Female soldiers just aren't a thing where he's from, and he can't imagine the military changing that any time soon. Of course, he knows there are still women on the battlefield, but this lady very specifically said 'soldier' not 'nurse.'

It's only after thinking through all this that he realizes he's just been staring at her. He clears his throat, "Um, sorry, it's just surprising. Not that you don't look like you could do it or anything! There just aren't any women like that back home."

Getting rusty is the last thing Rey has to worry about here. "Will do. Sooner the better, honestly." Or perhaps when there isn't such a sense of impending doom on the horizon. Just a hunch.

She nods, taking a seat at the table with her own bowl, and then blinking when it appears that Firo is now gawking. Rey has gotten different sorts of reactions when revealing her former profession, typically a lack of surprise given her temperament and bearing. She is hardly nurse material, that's for damned sure.

"Back home?" Rey blinks again at his answer. "Where's that, if you don't mind saying?"

"I like the sound of that."

He toys with his spoon, still a little flustered from his reaction a moment ago. “New York.” He thinks a moment, then it occurs to him that another detail might be helpful there, “It was 1934. What about you?”

As Rey waits for her soup to cool before chowing down, she blinks at Firo a moment.

Did he just say that he was from 1934? Seriously? That's well over two hundred years ago. Rey didn't think there would be anyone like that here, but there are surprises around every corner.

Shaking her head, she looks back at him and finally says, "Shit. It was 2153 back home."

It's a good thing Firo still hasn't started on his soup yet, or else his table manners would rival Rey's when his mouth just drops open.

"Are you kiddin' me? But that's--" Yeah, no, not even trying that math. He shakes his head roughly. "--that's a really long time!"

Now that would have been a sight to behold.

"No shit." Rey is just as surprised by the news as Firo is. Not just the years between them, but the fact that she's talking to someone who was alive back when there even was a New York.

It's pretty amazing, actually.

"Two hundred and nineteen years, to be exact."

She can do math.

Show off.

"This whole thing... It's all weird as hell." He shakes his head and blows on a spoonful of soup.

"Never thought a year like that'd exist, to be honest. I guess I'm ancient history to you." Two centuries is ancient enough to him, given that he's never had much awareness of history beyond his brief lifespan.

It comes with having a computer brain.

"A lot's happened, yes." She places an elbow over the table, resting her chin under the palm of her hand. What are manners even. "Things are... very different from back then."

Is there even any point in telling him?

"I'd bet." They sound pretty different already, what with her job and all.

He leans forward. "What's it like? Is the Depression over? They never brought back Prohibition, did they?"

It takes a little bit of filing through her memories for Rey to figure out what Firo is talking about. All of those things is just so long ago. But she herself is old enough to have some knowledge in the time's long gone. History is important.

"For you, the Depression doesn't end until another five years or so. As for the Prohibition... There would probably be a lot of hell to pay if that one ever made a return." She shrugs, the corner of her lip twitching. "There any other questions about the future you have in mind?"

Heh.

He grins. "Pretty good answers, all things considered."

"Just one thing. I could probably think of more, but it'd take a while." For some people, the wealth of possibilities might be dizzying. That's not exactly true for Firo; his focus is so narrow that only a few things really matter.

"The name Martillo mean anything to people in the future?"

He hardly thinks they'll ever be as notorious as Capone or Luciano, and that's probably a good thing. But it can't hurt to ask.

For a guy from the past, one would expect Firo to have a barrage of more questions. Rey wonders really how any of this is going to matter for him in the long run, or if perhaps it's just some peace of mind while he's here.

She blinks at his last question, and shakes her head. "No, never heard of that name before."

Sorry, Firo.

He nods and leans back in his chair. "Maybe it's for the best."

At the least, it means that there probably wasn't some massive arrest or trial.

"I'm no detective, but it really doesn't sound like there's a pattern at all to who gets taken. Where you were, what year it was."

Maybe it is for the best. But that doesn't stop Rey from wondering. "So who are they? Some sort of big shots or something?"

Rey has her sense of curiosity towards the past, too. What things must have been like back then. Stuff like that. It's interesting and not an experience many people can say they've had.

"No, think anyone would enough sense in their skull can figure that out." Good job, Firo. "Wouldn't really worry about the 'whys' here. Seems like there is none."

Big shots to him, if no one else. He grins and doesn't confirm or deny that description. "They're my Family. I just wanted to know if they were still around."

Wow, okay then. Firo blinks at the casual insult, but figures that both the questions and the remark aren't important enough to pursue. It's only his intelligence, after all. He shrugs.

To Rey, she hears that as 'family' in the familial sense, which she can understand if that's what Firo was talking about. Which he isn't, but she doesn't know that. "Apologies for not being more helpful."

For someone who told a guy from the 1930s when the Depression ends and the Prohibition never makes a resurgence, one would argue that Rey had been plenty helpful. Whatever.

Now that her soup has cooled down, she decides to give it a try. Without utensils. Instead she just picks the bowl up and drinks right out it without shame or grace or manners.

Foul heathen.

"It's fine. They're tough guys."

Either they'll be alive or they won't. There's no use worrying about it when he can't do anything to help them right now.

He's thinking of somewhere else interesting to take the conversation when Rey begins dumping soup into her maw. Firo never thought he'd see the day when someone ate more sloppily than Berga and Claire trying to one-up each other at dinner. "...Uh, you want a spoon or somethin'?"

Never mind the fact that Firo is concerned for the survival of his family two hundred years later from his current time. Part of her assumes he's talking about his lineage, so how strange could that be? But didn't Firo say his last name was Prochainezo, not Martillo?

Realizing this, Rey starts to lower her bowl to ask him this, until he seems to be making a note of her rather... uncouth habits. It isn't the first time she's got that look, after all.

"No thanks. Am good." She says this as she wipes her mouth with the back of her free hand.

He snorts, almost a laugh. "Then I'm gonna guess you don't want a napkin, either."

Interesting. Firo's hardly so old-fashioned as to be horrified at the lack of manners--no more horrified than he would be at anyone--but he admits he is a bit surprised. He's always been a bit more tidy than your run-of-the-mill thug.

Is he laughing at her? Are you making fun of her, bro?

"That depends." She sets down the bowl. "Do you have any?"

She may have terrible dinner etiquette, but she's no barbarian. Sort of. Well, it's arguable.

Refusal or laughter were the two responses he was prepared for, so he's caught off guard by the simple question. He hesitates then shakes his head. "Oh. Um, well, no, actually..."

He shrugs weakly, "It was a joke. Apparently not a very funny one."

Come on, Firo. Do you really she's the type who'd just laugh? Smiling is hard enough sometimes -- you have to exercise so many muscles and all.

"Oh. Apologies." Le shug. "Am not very... good, with those."

Most people's sense of humor tends to go way over her head.

He flashes his teeth. The fact that she feels the need to point it out is a little funny by itself. "Don't worry, I can tell."

"They train the humor right out of you in the army?"

Maybe it's insensitive. But Firo's never been particularly concerned with stepping on people's feelings, and he doesn't know much else about her to joke with. If he knew she was from Milwaukee, he'd just ask if people in Milwaukee didn't have jokes. But all he really knows if her profession and the fact that she randomly gives meat to people. So kidding about the job it is.

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