asgardmods: (FAITH ❧ listless king)
ᴀsɢᴀʀᴅ ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs ❧ mod account ([personal profile] asgardmods) wrote in [community profile] asgardmeridiem2014-10-21 07:26 pm

EVENT LOG: FEAR ITSELF

Who: EVERYONE
What: the Fear Itself mingle log
When: Day 528-531 ( Oct. 21-28 )
Where: all across the city!
Rating: PG-13. Anything higher than that should be taken to a private log, please!

Day 528 ( Oct. 21/22 )
Not wasting a moment, Odin, Hel, and Heimdall will set out for Ginnungagap once again before dawn and the other gods will stand vigil at the city gates. The natives will filter into the streets, curious for all that news of Tyr's very existence is eye-opening for them and reverent for the prospect of a new deity among them. They will pass around candles to any that want one to hold lit for their patrons until the sunlight is high enough to blow the flames out, and then they will mill around seeking comfort in anyone around them, whether to give it or receive it in this strange time between hope and grieving.

By noon, a great rumbling will crackle across the sky like the beginnings of thunder, despite the thinly clouded skies. The air will grow heavy and acrid, almost choking to breathe, as a pressure builds across the city and across the land. Just as it begins to reach painful levels, the rumbling will finally crack as one stroke of lightning spiderwebs to fill the entire sky, backlit by the distant sound of a woman shrieking in pain or anger or agony. The scream dies down just as the light fades and the sky shifts back into blue, the clouds scattered and the pressure lifted. Either the storm has past, or it has just begun; there's no telling for now.

A few hours after that, a strong wave will wash over the city, rustling plants and loose materials, and the Travellers will feel their hearts pounding once too hard, near painfully as though they've just received a severe fright. It's similar to what happened when Freyr was resurrected, but stronger and twisted into something uncomfortable, almost nauseating. The feeling will pass in the next heartbeat and just before sundown, the three gods will return from their voyage to Ginnungagap; this time, bandages will be wrapped around Odin's head and covering his left eye, and his right middle finger will be missing to the knuckle, same as his left index when they returned from resurrecting Freyr. They will make way directly to the castle and the other gods will filter in behind them, so be sure to grab them quickly if you have any desire to speak to them before the coming storm.

By dusk, the Travellers will begin to feel a creeping sense of paranoia, as though there's someone watching them from nearby and flickering out of sight just before they can turn around to catch them in the act. Over the course of the evening, the paranoia will bud into a headache and an itch at the back of their minds, like a thought they can't shake but can't reach either. By twilight, they will start to hear indistinct whispers not unlike the start of the Dream a Little Dream event, but the name of this game is hallucinations.

This first night will begin with auditory hallucinations: as the Travellers attempt to prepare for sleep ( or after long enough of not sleeping ), the whispering a will morph into crisp, clear voices that might sound as though they're speaking over your shoulder or from behind the couch or maybe it's simply inside your head. The voices can be male or female, familiar or stranger, one or a dozen, it doesn't really matter. What matters is what they say. For this stage of the curse, you will hear these voices speaking your character's fear(s) aloud, almost taunting or goading in the clear spelling of them. The auditory hallucinations will not cease at any point throughout the night and may continue on throughout the rest of the event as you please!

Day 529 ( Oct. 23/24 )
Morning brings no relief from the strange sounds, and as the Travellers go about their day, the curse will evolve into visual hallucinations. They will imagine seeing the very thing(s) they fear happening right before their eyes, despite the fact that no such thing is happening at all. It will be like a waking dream, wherein they are conscious and aware but perceiving a different reality built around their innermost fears coming into fruition. Other characters and NPCs can be involved in these hallucinations, but they will not actually be happening; physical contact or very strong words might be able to snap someone out of their visions, or they might further fuel it. Feel free to play around with this. These hallucinations can happen as frequently / last for as long or as short / cycle between fears as you'd like, and can continue to happen until the end of the event.

The general paranoia and unease will continue to grow and the day will pass under constant headaches, like an unceasing pressure inside their heads that follows them around and flares up during any hallucinations. They will begin to feel uncomfortable in their own skin, almost dysphoric with the vague impression that something is wrong and that they themselves might just be the very thing that doesn't fit. Paired with the hallucinations of their fears coming to life, tensions will be running high and even the natives will be affected, keeping to themselves until whatever this is might pass.

Day 530 ( Oct. 25/26 )
By this day, the curse will advance to physical hallucinations. What this means is that your character's fear(s) will begin to manifest in real time, no longer a trick of the imagination but a tangible embodiment of their deep rooted fears. They will be able to interact with their imagined reality, and the hallucinations will interact right back; those witnessing your character's hallucinating will only see the character talking to air, but coming in physical contact with them will absorb them into the hallucination as well. This can be a means of breaking through the episode, or further fueling the delusion.

At this stage, the hallucinations will take on a strength of their own, and they will play to your character's fear(s) to try and draw them deeper into the delusion. They will try to convince you that this is reality, that there is no escape, and that you will end your days shrouded in this fear. These hallucinations can kill your character! They are physical, which means that even if other people can't see them, your character will very much feel the weight of them if they attack or draw you into them.

Day 531 ( Oct. 27/28 )
For the last day of this event, the curse will all come together to result in catatonic hallucinations. This stage is simple: your character will be awake but inert, incapable of moving or seeing past their delusions. They will be forced to watch their fears overwhelm them without any means of snapping out of it by themselves. If your character succumbs to this level of the curse, the only way to break the hallucination will be for someone else to talk them out of it. Again, more on this in the plot notes, as this curse is fairly complicated!

While the majority of the city is either comatose or fighting off ghosts, another wave of energy will pass through the city exactly as it had at the start of the event just before sundown. Plantlife will violently begin blooming, leaves and petals bursting into the wind and carrying across the entire city - and immediately afterwards, they will wither within seconds, shrivelling up and dying on the spot. Vines will rapidly start encroaching across the sides of buildings and across yards, thick tendrils attempting to overtake any available soil and the area around it. Rain will pick up as the city starts to feel lost beneath the general theme of decay, and as the sun is setting, a new face will be seen walking through the Gate of Fire.

Vines will sprout from his footsteps as he sweeps slowly into the city as though in a daze, the storm following him and increasing in strength the further he comes into the city. Travellers can attempt to approach him, but he will be wholly non-responsive, and the pressure in their heads from the curse's headaches will increase the closer they get to him until it becomes debilitating within arm's length.

His path will head in the direction of the castle, but before he makes even halfway there, Loki will be seen running through the streets ( followed closely behind by Thor and Heimdall ) directly towards the new arrival. He will not stop for anything, and anyone in the vicinity at the time can see him use the full force of his running start to punch this frightful stranger in the face. The blow will send him flying a few fair feet, where he will lay prone and unconscious; at this point, the curse will stop, and the three gods will drag the body into the castle without a word. Explanations will have to wait For now, there's some cleaning up to do.


[ OOC NOTES: This is the mingle log for the Fear Itself event! NPCs will be available for interaction on the first day in the log header below. Please put [OPEN/CLOSED] along with the time/location of your character in the title of your comment. Let us know if you have any questions! ]
freecssgonwild: aeroport (Default)

[personal profile] freecssgonwild 2014-10-24 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
When Gon turns to speak to him, he certainly does see the blood - an arm fallen off, anther one being cut neatly and easily by Pitou, who has a rather playful expression on her face. His expression falls, breath hitching as he looks away.

"--If it's pointless, you should stay here. I'm not stopping until I find out who did this!" Gon shoulders are heaving. He can't look at Killua - not until the illusion has gone away.

Don't come near me anymore! I hate you!

Gon's voice could be heard in Killua's head, Illumi placing a number of needles into Gon's skull - again and again.
Edited 2014-10-24 05:51 (UTC)
saving_sound: (Eh-?)

529 B

[personal profile] saving_sound 2014-10-24 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
"H-Hamel...-san?" Even though she's exhausted by the constant assault of cruel, whispered words, the way Hamel is acting is of great concern. Is he being affected, too...?

She's still uncertain, but nevertheless, she raises her voice as she addresses him again, reaching out a hand to lay gently on his shoulder. "H-Hamel-san! Please, snap out of it!"
not_sasuke: (I see with eyes clear of...)

529

[personal profile] not_sasuke 2014-10-24 09:42 am (UTC)(link)
[Well that doesn't look good.

Having been stalked by apparitions all day, Yuusuke's got a decent guess what it is that haunts Minato, even if he doesn't know the specifics. Approaching the teen from behind, he plants one hand on his shoulder, giving him a light shake.
]

Hey. Snap out of it. You're on duty, you know.

[Because that's definitely the thing to focus on right now. Although in some ways, it may be a better thing to focus on than whatever phantoms he's seeing at the moment...]
abhero: illbillyou @ lj (oh crap it's the evil clown)

[personal profile] abhero 2014-10-24 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Hamel gasps and jerks away, but even this brief touch is enough to pull her into the vision; suddenly there's blood on Hamel's hands and clothes and corpses line the streets.

"Just go away," he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from me – " it takes him a moment to realize whose voice is this and his eyes flutter open again. Isn't that –

"…Hibiki?"

He lowers his hands and stares at her, horror and confusion playing on his face, and the vision flickers for a moment before focusing again. How can she be talking to him when she's already dead? Her corpse is still within sight, lying a little down the street.
samantha_grey: (Frightened)

[personal profile] samantha_grey 2014-10-24 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"No, you don't need me," she whispered softly, the grip tightening some while she lingered there, refusing to pull away. "But I need you. And I'm not going to leave you, not like this, not ever."

One of her hands reached up to run through Asuka's hair, gently stroking the long red strands as she curled in close. The illusion she ignored. It wasn't worth her attention. Instead, her focus was entirely on her lover and her needs. She tried to tip the woman's head so that it would no longer face the image, wanting her focused on herself.
splendid_solitude: (Pathetic)

[personal profile] splendid_solitude 2014-10-25 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Why?" Asuka asked, holding firm in her attempt to keep her face hidden behind the top of her knees, though it would not be very hard to pry her from the position, as Asuka still had the body of a rail-thin fourteen year old.

Avoiding her issues had always been how Asuka dealt with her problems, and the current circumstances were no different. As she hid herself both from the scarring reminder of her past hanging before her, and the woman trying so hard to save her from that very same memory.

"Why the hell do you need me?" She asked again, this time speaking in a increasingly violent yell, a small trickle of tears cascading from her one working eye. "I can't pilot anything, I'm not strong enough to fight, and its not like I'm any good at this romance stuff either. So what makes me so damn special?"

She had always seen herself as the best at everything she did, but her stay in Asgard has proven otherwise. Torn from the ruined world where she was indeed a hero who was among the few who could avert the world from ending a second time, she was little more then a jaded woman with little talent and a body far removed from her actual age. So, she thought while dwelling on the whispers of both her other and the faceless phantoms, why would anyone ever need her?
bythewaves: (bloodstained)

529b

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
Maglor knows that the visions are not real, but he does not run from them. They are, after all, a part of his penace. He walks, and the stone floors of Doriath give way to blood-soaked sands and whitewashed walls and he winces. He hates the Alqualonde one. Around him the sounds of confusion reign, elves who might be friends turning on each other, smoke and fire, white ships burning.

He does not register at first that something is not right with the dream until he recognises Flute's body, but he is not given time to react because there is a sword in his hand and hair bleached blonde by the sun in his eyes, eyes the same bluegreen as the sea clouding in confusion, the pearl necklace he gave her on their first anniversary shattering and he collapses with her in his arms and his sword in her breast.

"Falamiriel!"
quantumtangled: (03)

September | All Days | Open

[personal profile] quantumtangled 2014-10-25 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
[Day 529]

[Despite what he's seeing, and the night of lost sleep from the voices in his head, he's going about his business as normally as he can. He knows he's not at all the only one affected. Besides, there's always work to be done, repairs to be made from the simplest things to the most modern electronics available. The natives are grateful and he likes them.]

[However, many times throughout the day, he stops and stares at nothing... encountering his first real fear. It's brand new and impossible to deal with. It even shows on his face. He's afraid.]

[He hardly knows how to ask for help. Being scared in silence is all he can do on his own.]


[Day 530 & 531]

[The next two days are much the same as the first two. He won't interact with his own visions. He won't say one word, not unless prompted by someone real. He won't give in.]

[But, for perhaps the first time, he's not doing anything either. Nothing. No sleep, no work, only a little to eat. On day four, it's become the same blank catatonia as it has for everyone else.]
Edited 2014-10-26 00:14 (UTC)
samantha_grey: (Half-Breeds)

[personal profile] samantha_grey 2014-10-25 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
She was firm in her motions, hands pushing to try and force Asuka into a position where she'd have to put her head against the cambion instead of her own knees, the woman aiming to curl into her lap. She wasn't extremely strong, but she did try to keep in shape just in case, so she wasn't above forcing the issue a little.

"You don't have to be strong to be deadly, you don't need a robot to destroy them," she whispered, brushing her hands up and through the girl's hair. "In fact, I wouldn't want a beef stick beside me in a fight. They make too much noise. And you say that like I'm any good. I'm only really good in bed. Not everything else. My life's a trainwreck."

Her lips pressed to Asuka's forehead and she breathed slowly, her words as sincere as she could manage. "But, you care about me. You don't judge me for what I am," she breathed. "Not for a one-night stand to keep me fed, not some friend who watches out for me. You took me all for yourself. I... it was something I never knew I wanted."

Admittedly, that was until Eridan, but it didn't lessen her value in her mind.
samantha_grey: (Teeth Gritting)

Day 530 Open TW: Mentions of Vore, threat thereof

[personal profile] samantha_grey 2014-10-25 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Samantha was doing a good job until the last day. She'd been on edge through the whole last few days, but at the same time she wasn't about to let her fears get the better of her. After a year here and the things she'd seen in her own life back home, she knew when someone was toying with her. She wasn't going to let them get to her. No, no illusion was going to get the better of a woman who spent her life using illusions to confuse and distract her enemies, who relied on them as her most potent weapons.

However, it was on the third day that this all changed. Something about the sight she caught out of the edge of her eyes struck her differently. Long, straight dark hair flowed down the pale, human frame of a golden-eyed woman leering at her suggestively from the other side of an alleyway. When it began to slither out, a trash-can dropped to the ground with a clatter and Samantha's eyes widened in abject terror.

"Little meat... always in my way," she whispered sibillantly, tongue flickering from her lips.

Samantha fled, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her eyes were wild with abject terror.
splendid_solitude: (suprise)

[personal profile] splendid_solitude 2014-10-25 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
It wouldn't be hard for Samantha to worm her way onto Asuka's lap, as after being forced to relive the worst moment of her life, the red-head really didn't have the strength to resist.

Something about having Samantha this close, whispering quietly, and stroking her long red-hair eased Asuka's pain just a little bit. It was a feeling that she had secretly desire back when she was just a child, and had so foolishly chased after a certain boy for all of the wrong reason. Some one to tell her that she was wanted, that they cared, and, possibly most of all, that they needed her. Sure, her friends on the Wunder cared, but not like this, none of them would sit on her lap and stroke her hair while saying such sweet things.

Asuka looked up slowly, her face still a mess, and managed to raise her head through the disaster that she had become over the last few days. Her gaze was sad and yearned for validation, a fact of little to surprise to anyone who knew the red-head intimately.

"Your not going to leave me like she did?" Asuka said in a low tone, referring clearly to the woman still hanging behind them.

pushesgently: (pic#8447721)

Days 528--530

[personal profile] pushesgently 2014-10-25 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
Day 528 - Closed to Maria

[Altaïr has a great deal on his mind and an endless number of things to do, so it's late by the time he joins Maria in bed. However exhausted he is, though, he can't seem to fall asleep. Instead it's a fitful doze as something on the edge of dreams whispers to him—and he wakes up with a start, his hand immediately going to his wife's shoulder.]

Habeebti?

Day 529

[They come upon him throughout the day—brief visions, flickers even, similar to how the Apple has shown him things—though their content is different.

Because unlike the strange images that come from the Apple, this is familiar. Masyaf, his home, but in ruins. Men he trusts, people he cares about lay unconscious on its stone—or worse. And in the distance, there's an eerie golden glow.

Then late in the afternoon, he opens his eyes and sees. Of course. He's been here all along.]


Al Mualim. Old man, what are you doing here?

Day 530 - Closed to those in-the-know about Assassins

[This isn't real, it isn't real, but when the visions come today, he doesn't just see his old master wielding the Piece of Eden, threatening everything Altaïr cares about, he feels the touch of the strange artifact. His limbs seize up and it's all he can do to fight against the thrall of the Apple—and it may not be enough.]

[ooc: Day 529 is open to all! Altaïr is likely to mistake people for Al Mualim and may move to attack, but he won't harm anyone before he snaps out of it.]
selfmadman: (and split it with a knife)

[personal profile] selfmadman 2014-10-25 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
Darkness slams down. An animal sound in the corner, a scrabbling. The room will resolve around her: a cramped cell, the light too weak for patterns. The bars are rusting. They stretch up for yards, then simply lose themselves to black.

There's no ceiling. No door. The floor's dirt and there's stale sweat in the air.

Don's on his feet now, the fingers of one hand curled against the wall. The hand drops. He looks younger, his features not so decisively his. His face overgrown with stubble.

“You,” he says. It's the underside of his same voice, some lightless emotion clinging to it. Her gun pulls in his gaze.

They're trapped in proximity. He can feel the heat of her breath. “You're not gonna say”—his voice goes deep then drops out, leaving him with nothing but the look of dread on his face—“something first.”
bythewaves: (bloodstained)

Maglor | OTA & all over, warnings for blood and death and murder

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
The whispers and the voices are nothing new, in honesty. Maglor's ghosts have always followed him closely, from his brothers to his father to his cousins and all his many victims. What is unusual is who decides to follow him (fair enough, he thinks to himself, he has not had that nightmare in a while, perhaps they wished to remind him that he is not forgiven).

Day 528-529
The first few days he sees them out of the corner of his eyes - a pair of dark haired twins. He learns quickly not to turn and look, for sometimes the hair is as red as the blood on the street (as red as his mother's hair, for the two youngest of his brothers had hair the colour of flame also), or the faces will look like the other set of twins in his life. The accusations are familiar also.

Why did you kill us?

Kinslayer!

Murderer!

Accursed one, you dare to think you might find happiness?

Pity his fosterlings, can you imagine what life with the Feanorions must be like?

The only one that startles him is a ghost he has not seen in a while.

Makalaure his father demands from behind him What possessed you to throw it away?

You know why he thinks back, and his father does not speak again, although the twins continue to follow him.

You will drag them down with you, to doom and death they whisper

I know he tells them

You have to let them go

I know

Day 530-531
They have not been this bad in a while huh observes Celegorm, standing there in his armor, his chestpiece a mass of gore where Dior's spear pierced him.

Maglor does not deign to answer, watching as the floors beneath him slick red with blood. Sometimes, it is the stone of Doriath, of the beauty of Menegroth of the Thousand Caves, now forever marred. Others, the white sands of Alqualonde (he hates that one the most, because it always ends with his wife dead in his arms), still others the city streets of Sirion (that one is almost as bad, because it ends with Elwing and the twins and by the end he can never truly distinguish which of the three sets he has known they truly are). The smoke and the fire, the screaming and pleading. Maglor knows they are not real, but that does not make them hurt any less. Very carefully, he does not bring his sword with him anywhere (but sometimes he blinks and the blade in his hand drips red with blood anyway). He does not sleep, but he does not turn from the visions either - for they speak truth, after all...

He is a Kinslayer, hands dyed red in the blood of his people. Murderer, Kidnapper, Usurper. And perhaps Oath Breaker too, although he still cannot clearly recall that time. He has always known there would be no forgiveness, for to ask for forgiveness would imply that he deserves it.

You have condemned us to the Dark, brother murmur his brothers, their dead faces watching him. You failed me, Makalaure says his father, crumbling into ash. You should have saved me, cousin whispers Fingon, his helm crushed, accuses Finrod, his throat savaged, scorns Turgon, rent by dragon claws and the whips of the Balrogs. This is your punishment, Makalaure says his uncle, Fingolfin's bright armor crushed and crumpled.

"I know." He says wearily.
devilishlycharming: (slightly dreamlike)

[personal profile] devilishlycharming 2014-10-25 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Her first instinct is to look around wildly, drawing her Colt but not aiming, wide-eyed at the shift in setting. It's nowhere she's seen before; the closest she's ever come to a gaol cell was Cairo Prison, and she was on the other side of the bars.

"Don." This isn't real--you're...I'm not sure what you're on about, but this isn't real. But even as she's trying to draw the words together into something persuasive, something she can reasonably say aloud, a shred of her is doubtful. This isn't the man she's used to seeing. Not only is he suddenly her junior, he has the look of a fox staring down a pack of hounds. And everything around them seems frightfully solid; if she reached for the wall, she's sure she'd feel the rough surface under her fingertips.

Belatedly, she realizes he's looking at her gun. She holsters it without dropping her gaze from his face. "Don, something's wrong. It's a--a trick of some sort. We have to..." But what on earth are they going to do about it? Perhaps they need to start with something more basic than that. "Where are we?"
Edited 2014-10-25 04:10 (UTC)
bythewaves: (earth air sea)

tell me if this works? Day 531

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ Into the darkness comes a light, small and frail, the first sigh of a song - a child's lullaby, sung to a young ner by his mother in Valinor long ago. ]

Tintala, tintala tingilindellë
Cesa mana nályë
Ama or ardhonessë
Celebren bara meneldë
Tintala, tintala tingilindellë
Cesa mana nályë


[ Something a little different, to break the chains of darkness - a light so frail and faltering... and yet it does not go out ]



((ooc: and that is Twinkle Twinkle as adapted to Quenya/High Elven by Ardruna |D ))
bythewaves: (bloodstained)

531?

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ He sees her as he walks through the blood-soaked halls of Doriath, and knows her for reality in amidst his dream. ]

Hibiki?

[ The twin swords in his hands run red, the blood dripping on the floor and slowly congealing.

This is where you killed our parents The twins' voices murmur ]
Edited (dammit html) 2014-10-25 05:35 (UTC)
bythewaves: (here i stand)

/shyly visits Day 528

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
Maglor does not often return to the God House, these days - but he does not want to be home, either, right now - not with his young ones around. He does not know if they can hear the whispers too (of course they can, but no, that's false - the ghosts are his, after all - he knows they're not real) - but he does not want to hurt them by mistake, either.

You will, you know whisper twin voices in unison Is that not all you know how to do, Kinslayer?

But Maglor ignores them in favor of the man on the sofa.

"Master Leonardo? Are you well?"
feathery: art@8syndrome (shot through the heart)

davesprite | days 528 - 531 | anywhere | ota

[personal profile] feathery 2014-10-25 08:50 am (UTC)(link)
stage one | d528 - d531 | that's an audio daily double;
[Davesprite is so fucking sick of Asgard. Done to death with it, shish kebabbed and revived with the sword still rammed through his chest. Only he knows floating around with a sword through your chest is better than this; he's done dealing, done ignoring his moods, and it's with a pretty fucking sour edge he jumps when he hears a voice right in his ear.

The wrongness alone would have been enough to put his hackles up. With the bite of paranoia, it reminds him of every other time shit got fucked turnways and it preys on his avian anxiety. Which is why his attention is in all the wrong places, even as he quickly walks backwards, arms hooked around his wings and hands in his pockets.

He crashes right into someone behind him.]
stage two | d529 - d531 | gettin' visual is habitual;
[He gets what's happening now. Figured it out fairly quick, because he recognizes some of those jeering voices. Some of them saying shit they would never say, while others ring too true, too accurate, and their owners all too fucking absent.]

Shit. [He breathes the word, looks down at the ground, and tries to steady himself.] This is not real. Shit is fake as fuck; I've seen B movies more realistic than this. [It's spoken with various degrees of conviction.]
stage three | d530 - d531 | sold in the cold, physical design;
[It was one thing when he couldn't touch them or they always stayed out of reach. A small thing, but a way to check if he was losing his fucking mind. (He is totally losing his fucking mind.) Now he has people who couldn't possibly be here, couldn't possibly be talking to him, up in his face and telling him quite calmly just how fucked up he is.]

Fuck off. [He says it caustically, to some invisible entity on his right. Other times, his eyes slide out of focus and he stares at someone on the other side of the street, or bickers with thin air. Sucks for anyone in his general vicinity when that happens, especially if they're standing in the same spot as his intended target.]

You're not fucking real. [But he doesn't sound like he believes it, even as he shrugs away from someone who isn't there, or more violently slaps off the offending contact. Other times, he suddenly points a blade made out of shadow at nothing. Or, worse, an innocent bystander.]
stage four | d531 | catatonic until personal practice mastered;
[He isn't expecting it when he suddenly drops on the spot. If he expected it, he wouldn't have gone the fuck outside. But he's out, persuaded by someone invisible, and slumps against an unfortunate victim or arbitrary architectural feature. Anyone who stumbles over him will find a gangly bird kid with his arms tangled limp around his legs and wings bent slack. His eyes stare blankly through his sunglasses at nothing; they don't track and they don't focus.

Sorry if he's blocking anyone's way.]
[ooc: Feel free to mix and match and bring your own delusions along for the ride. He can also talk people down when his are mild.]
Edited (hahaha gj me i hope no one's tracking this) 2014-10-25 09:17 (UTC)

Clementine l Open l All Days

[personal profile] littlesurvivor 2014-10-25 09:01 am (UTC)(link)
Day 528: Auditory Hallucinations

[It's initially easier to brush off. That she's hearing things. But then the voices get more familiar. Louder. The headaches that set in don't really help either. She's shaken, hearing them and trying to ignore what they say. The blame. The guilt she feels over certain members of the group.

It sees her start to get more distracted out at school and the clinic before she gets worse back home in the evening. She ends up late at night in the early morning still unable to rest. Nursing a hot chocolate in the kitchen. As someone approaches, she tries to seem more alert and less melancholy. Though likely whoever it is will probably see right through it.]


You can't sleep either?

Day 529: Visual

[The voices were bad enough. But this is worse. Clementine is on the way home to their housing in Thor when she stops dead in the middle of the street at the sight.

Her parents. Lee. Walkers. They don't move. Just stand there, staring and groaning at her. She clamps her hands over her ears, closing her eyes as if willing them to leave but when she opens them again, they're still there. A hoarse scream erupts from her as she shakes her head in denial. No. No, walkers aren't here. Not in Asgard. Certainly not Lee. Not her parents. But they keep approaching, closer.

Clementine turns and runs, possibly bumping into more than a few people in her haste to flee. She's already shot Lee once. She can't go through that again. Not with him. Or her parents.]


Day 530: Physical

[Of course, yesterday was bad enough. Naturally things only progressively worsen. This time, she's outside again in the morning when it happens. The walker that seems to come out of nowhere and grabs her. But when she sees just who it is she can't find it in her to fight back, to lash out with anything. Eight. Lee. Ellie. Sarah. Nick. Alice. Eleven. They all start to surround her, grabbing at her.]

No...no!

[She screams, tears prickling at the edge of her eyes as she turns and sprints away as fast as she can but she trips up, stumbling and falling. Creating weapons with her shadow control and seeming to be about to fire or shoot but unable to at the all too familiar faces. Hearing them approach. Feeling one of them grab her, their breath so hot and close as they lean their face in ready to bite her.]
Edited 2014-10-25 09:03 (UTC)
saving_sound: (Wh-what should I do...?)

[personal profile] saving_sound 2014-10-25 10:03 am (UTC)(link)
The sudden appearance of absolute carnage stuns her, and she staggers back a step out of shock. Wh... what is this...?

Her eyes have only just landed on her own broken body up ahead when Hamel seems to notice her presence. "H-Hamel-san... wh-what...?"

The blood on his clothes. The bodies all around. Her corpse. Despite her best efforts, she can do nothing to stop the shake in her voice.
saving_sound: (I just can't do this...)

[personal profile] saving_sound 2014-10-25 10:03 am (UTC)(link)
['It's the brat...'

The words have her flinching, her head dipping down low. What should she do? She was trying her best, and yet...

The children up ahead shift, laughing and giggling to themselves. Their backs are turned to her completely; purposely. She is not welcome. She never was.

And no matter what, she never would be.
]
snowstormed: (❄ in my song)

529

[personal profile] snowstormed 2014-10-25 10:40 am (UTC)(link)
[Not real, he tells himself, when he sees a HYDRA agent leaning against a wall one moment then disappearing the next, not fucking real, and he clings on to that assurance, because if he lets go of it--no, he can't think about it now.

Someone calls out to him, except--well, Al Mualim has never been his name, as far as he knows. And he's old, he knows that already too. He turns, has to suck in a startled breath because for a moment, just one moment--

--wipe him--

--the knife is in his hand before he knows it (his right, his left is clenched into a fist), but then he blinks, and the image melts like ice cream on a hot day in Brooklyn. Not. Real. It's a desperate mantra, repeating in his head.]


Not that old. [he manages.]
timaeus_testified: (Continue?)

Dirk Strider [ Days 529-531 ] [All over] OTA

[personal profile] timaeus_testified 2014-10-25 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Afternoon 529 | Visual |
[It's becoming to habitual to wake up on the floor of his own room and feel something wrong with the air. Dirk doesn't bother with the moment he'd spent last time staring into the gloom and wondering what the fuck he missed. Things are likely going to shit and time is of the essence. It's gotten hella old he keeps missing the action.

He hits the streets first, not bothering with the rooftops. Something is following him, a dark shadow that is hauntingly familiar. Every time he stops it seems to gather just out of sight. Sometimes he glimpses the edge of a blade and the lack of knowing is driving him to move faster and attempt to dodge around people without actually seeing them at all.

That's right when he goes left when he should have gone right and collides with some unfortunate bastard.]


Day 530 | Physical |

[It starts with cold laughter that lacks any feeling to it. He can't pinpoint the origins of the sound no matter which way he moves on the streets. He swings up onto the rooftops and realizes the trap far too late.

Anyone below will see a katana blade clatter to the streets. Whatever manifested, Dirk's hand released the sword without realizing he did it at all. Then he runs, dropping to street level and tearing out of the vicinity while shouting at things that aren't there.]
It's a damn lie! There's no fuckin way-

[He never stays still for long. Bolting at things unseen and lashing out with a blade or swatting away anything that might reach for him. Dirk isn't all that rational, it's pretty plain that he's dodging something and he no longer as any concept of anything beyond whatever he's running from.

Day 531 | He's dead ji- no wait he's alive. |

[It's almost funny. Only it isn't. Here he is again, slumped unconscious and unable to do anything for anyone even himself. It hadn't been something he planned for, and the inevitable collapse is met with surprise and just enough conscious thought to keep from falling on his face.

Where ever he fell, he did it slumped against something solid be it person, or place. It doesn't really matter in the long run. He can't see or seemingly respond, his hands are splayed against the ground as if he had some plan in mind when he fell but that doesn't matter either.

Or does it?]
Edited 2014-10-25 12:12 (UTC)
bythewaves: (hm?)

[personal profile] bythewaves 2014-10-25 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She does not hear you murmurs Curufin, his face a ruin and his throat slit.

You cannot help her you know the twins chime, and he knows without looking that right now their hair is red, for the voices are those of his youngest brothers.

Maglor ignores them all with the ese of ling practice, dropping the sword and letting it vanish back into memory. ]


Hibiki?

[ he kneels before her and reaches to brush her hand ]