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Entry tags:
- #event,
- alec lightwood (shadowhunters),
- aymeric de borel (final fantasy xiv),
- barclay odell (oc),
- clary fray (shadowhunters),
- jace herondale (shadowhunters),
- jaden cosgrove (oc),
- mandy slade (velvet goldmine),
- nico di angelo (chb),
- rafaello d’este (oc),
- ronan lynch (trc),
- tamsin (lost girl),
- will solace (chb)
Crash Log #1 & Will-o'-Wisp Mini-Event
Characters: Second wave of Xistentia arrivals, greeters/rescuers
Summary: The second wave of characters arrive in Xistentia unexpectedly early... only to face an unexpected threat. D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s multiversal attack is disrupting the energy flow, causing a very unusual stampede— of will-o'-wisps, that lure travelers off their path with thoughts. It's up to the residents of Xistentia to help the newcomers!
Date(s): Mid-June 2017
Warnings/Notes: Coercive magic, collisions, moderate injury, dystopian themes
Early in the morning, the glow of light to the East, where F.A.T.E.S. resides, begins to turn red in warning. Seconds later, all of the daemons begin to project the same message to their owners. The alarm continues to repeat until the characters acknowledge.
F.A.T.E.S. WARNING SYSTEM
Threat Assessment: Mild
Phenomenon Type: Native Creature Behavior
Predicted Duration: 24 hours
Due to the cosmic energy disruptions by D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., will-o'-wisps are engaging in unusual migratory activity. Residents are advised to remain in the city, or be on-guard against a low level of psychic influence. Wisps feed by creating visual, auditory, and olfactory illusions based on the viewer's needs and temptation. Individuals in compromised emotional states are more susceptible.
The migration will be complete in 24 hours.
It seems straightforward enough. But as dusk begins to fall, the distant sounds of crashing and outcry come from the beach once again. It's familiar-- the first wave of Xistentia residents arrived the exact same way only 2 weeks ago. They're going to need your help.
For the second wave of Xistentia arrivals, the day is not nearly as ordinary.
Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.
And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around. It's dark— you've arrived at nightfall.
Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.
Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.
When you get a second to breathe, the danger doesn't end... because that's when the wisps come.
At first, they're just a stream of pretty lights. Like fireflies, except that their illumination holds steady as they float through empty air. It's helpful for those of us who don't have night vision. However, as the minutes wear on, the terror and stress of the day starts to change to longing. And then the illusions begin. Voices of lost loved ones calling out, or flickers of familiar figures in the distance. The scent of burgers or cinnamon cake floating through the trees.
Maybe the ones you lost aren't lost after all. Maybe there's dessert out there. Isn't it tempting to follow? But watch your step-- there are ditches, fast-flowing rivers, and sleeping trolls you might run across. The wisps are impervious to these dangers, but you likely are not.
As rescuers venture into the forests, the wisps' illusions change to accommodate the wishes and fears of the new intruders. Each person sees their own illusion, blind to the experiences of others. However, to be forewarned is to be forearmed. Resistance from the psychic intrusion is far easier when you know what you're dealing with. Still, that doesn't mean that persuading a traumatized apocalypse survivor is easy. They've been through a lot, and if you're claiming that they're seeing things that aren't there, who's to say you aren't imaginary, yourself?
And the trolls get cranky when their sleep is disturbed.
By morning, however, the wisps have cleared and the other creatures of Xistentia are off on their business. Maybe that's when you choose to come out and help, to find new refugees sleeping in trees, thickets, beach-wrecked fuselage, and other places they had found sanctuary for the night.
The second wave of arrivals comes into a city that is very different from the one that the first refugees did. Sure, there are still animals and overgrown trees intruding in many buildings and streets— but the center looks very civilized now. Eight full city blocks where the hedges are groomed and the building facades are clean and orderly.
There are a number of fully operational businesses, including restaurants and a tailor. Agriculture is taking off gradually, albeit in a disorganized fashion, thanks to the fact most of the people involved are amateurs. Street lights, the beacons that sense character interactions, are fully operational throughout the day-- likewise, most of the city's functions work just fine now, including indoor lights, plumbing, electricity, etc. Cable isn't great, though. Depending on how badly your encounter with the Wisps was, you may also get acquainted with the hospital. It still looks shabby and moss-eaten, but its glowing recovery enhancement beds work very well. Better bring someone with you, though!
hells yeah
Footnotes
Summary: The second wave of characters arrive in Xistentia unexpectedly early... only to face an unexpected threat. D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s multiversal attack is disrupting the energy flow, causing a very unusual stampede— of will-o'-wisps, that lure travelers off their path with thoughts. It's up to the residents of Xistentia to help the newcomers!
Date(s): Mid-June 2017
Warnings/Notes: Coercive magic, collisions, moderate injury, dystopian themes
Wisp Mini-Event & Crash #2
Wish you were here. Love comes in waves
A WARNING FROM DAEMONS
Early in the morning, the glow of light to the East, where F.A.T.E.S. resides, begins to turn red in warning. Seconds later, all of the daemons begin to project the same message to their owners. The alarm continues to repeat until the characters acknowledge.
Threat Assessment: Mild
Phenomenon Type: Native Creature Behavior
Predicted Duration: 24 hours
Due to the cosmic energy disruptions by D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., will-o'-wisps are engaging in unusual migratory activity. Residents are advised to remain in the city, or be on-guard against a low level of psychic influence. Wisps feed by creating visual, auditory, and olfactory illusions based on the viewer's needs and temptation. Individuals in compromised emotional states are more susceptible.
The migration will be complete in 24 hours.
It seems straightforward enough. But as dusk begins to fall, the distant sounds of crashing and outcry come from the beach once again. It's familiar-- the first wave of Xistentia residents arrived the exact same way only 2 weeks ago. They're going to need your help.
CRASH LAND INTO ME
For the second wave of Xistentia arrivals, the day is not nearly as ordinary.
Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.
And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around. It's dark— you've arrived at nightfall.
Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.
Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.
When you get a second to breathe, the danger doesn't end... because that's when the wisps come.
At first, they're just a stream of pretty lights. Like fireflies, except that their illumination holds steady as they float through empty air. It's helpful for those of us who don't have night vision. However, as the minutes wear on, the terror and stress of the day starts to change to longing. And then the illusions begin. Voices of lost loved ones calling out, or flickers of familiar figures in the distance. The scent of burgers or cinnamon cake floating through the trees.
Maybe the ones you lost aren't lost after all. Maybe there's dessert out there. Isn't it tempting to follow? But watch your step-- there are ditches, fast-flowing rivers, and sleeping trolls you might run across. The wisps are impervious to these dangers, but you likely are not.
SAVE THEIR SOULS
As rescuers venture into the forests, the wisps' illusions change to accommodate the wishes and fears of the new intruders. Each person sees their own illusion, blind to the experiences of others. However, to be forewarned is to be forearmed. Resistance from the psychic intrusion is far easier when you know what you're dealing with. Still, that doesn't mean that persuading a traumatized apocalypse survivor is easy. They've been through a lot, and if you're claiming that they're seeing things that aren't there, who's to say you aren't imaginary, yourself?
And the trolls get cranky when their sleep is disturbed.
By morning, however, the wisps have cleared and the other creatures of Xistentia are off on their business. Maybe that's when you choose to come out and help, to find new refugees sleeping in trees, thickets, beach-wrecked fuselage, and other places they had found sanctuary for the night.
WELCOME TO THE CITY
The second wave of arrivals comes into a city that is very different from the one that the first refugees did. Sure, there are still animals and overgrown trees intruding in many buildings and streets— but the center looks very civilized now. Eight full city blocks where the hedges are groomed and the building facades are clean and orderly.
There are a number of fully operational businesses, including restaurants and a tailor. Agriculture is taking off gradually, albeit in a disorganized fashion, thanks to the fact most of the people involved are amateurs. Street lights, the beacons that sense character interactions, are fully operational throughout the day-- likewise, most of the city's functions work just fine now, including indoor lights, plumbing, electricity, etc. Cable isn't great, though. Depending on how badly your encounter with the Wisps was, you may also get acquainted with the hospital. It still looks shabby and moss-eaten, but its glowing recovery enhancement beds work very well. Better bring someone with you, though!
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
hells yeah
Footnotes
- Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
- But like OOCly ask permission ofc.
no subject
[The admission bares a little more of his soul than might be wise, but they're far from anywhere it matters and she looks so small and sad that he finds himself wanting to reach over and take her hand. His shyness stops him, though, and he settles instead for braving a look to check for injury and show her his sympathy.]
You're not bleeding anywhere I can see. Do you remember hitting your head in the crash?
[Remembering she asked something else, he bites his lip, then adds:]
Er, last I checked, it was 1975. I'm not sure time means much here, though; I've made a friend who's from nearly thirty years past that.
[The fact that Mandy herself is almost unrecognizably different as well, he leaves unsaid.]
no subject
Oh.
Some people might have expected her to be angry or jealous in the past, and really it should have been at some point, but maybe the fact it never was explained far too much about the way things wound up. She swallows, working at getting a proper flame to spark up]
Yeah. If there'd been time I would have tried to ring him. [she'd been too worried about tripping over 'Tommy' to admit she and Curt will still in touch before, but that concern was gone now, and if either of them owed each other a thing it would be not letting Brian or any other cosmic force paint them as enemies.
It should be a shock to hear him say when he came from, but it's honestly the least shocking thing about this day] Oh, wow. I suppose I'm flattered you still recognized me then. It was 1984 when I left. I don't know how much I can tell you there, besides the fact Mr. Orwell was getting a little too spot on for my liking as of late. Oh, thank god [she cuts herself off as the lighter actually gives a decent result, and she quickly rifles through the mess to grab a cigarette from the pack that isn't nearly as full as she'd like, considering. She actually smirks before she puts it in her mouth] Mm, no, don't think so. But considering how many times I've forgotten blacking out for much more interesting reasons...[the London party girl and the jaded American are still trying to sort out which of them should take center stage right now. Maybe neither of them is suitable for this situation. She closes her eyes as she takes a long drag, sighing it out.
When she opens her eyes, she actually looks at him properly] What about you, though? You sound like you've been here a bit longer than myself, and not just because of our rather different chronological starting points.
no subject
Just a little. Just enough that it takes her a few tries before her lighter sparks into flame. Combined with the new, tired paleness of her face, she looks less like the golden goddess he remembers from press photos and more...
Human. Touchable.
She looks so sad that, after a moment to steel himself, he makes that leap and softly puts a hand on her shoulder.]
If I'm right and time doesn't matter here, maybe Curt will find his way here on his own.
[Even as he says it, though, he doesn't really believe it. He drops his hand back down to his lap and clears his throat, looking out at the water to avoid looking at Mandy while he talks about himself; in comparison to her life, everything he's been through, even the dimension-hopping, still feels hopelessly mundane and boring.]
I've been here for about a month. Before that, I'd actually--er, traveled, I suppose, somewhere else. Like you did here, if you came from home, but the first place I went was a bit less...
[He trails off, chewing anxiously on his lip. How does he even begin to break something like this to someone he's idolized so much, someone a part of him had desperately wished to be--?]
...I'm sorry. I don't mean to ramble.
no subject
She's not sure if that says more about her or how many people the world has taken from her. It might be about equal, all things considered.
Still, she smirks, nodding before letting out another puff of smoke]
Of course. Curt's one of the last people I'd worry about. If anyone can survive the end of the world, it's him.
[because she can't believe he's escaped so much of his past just to be taken away by a damned computer. She's been waiting for that phone call to say that he apparently got clean too late and it hasn't come and she can't let herself consider that he could be snuffed out by anything else if he's escaped that.
She raises a curious eyebrow, chin resting on her fist as she listens, and chuckles a little at the end]
Oh, don't worry about it darling. I could ramble more than enough for both of us given enough time and alcohol. [and she had, but he doesn't know that and god this is a trip]
I came here straight from New York, which has been as close to home as anywhere has been since…[she makes a vague gesture with her cigarette; given the year he was from, he must know. After that concert, she ran. Even if money and immigration status and all that hadn't been an issue, she couldn't have stayed in England. Not if she'd wanted to keep any scrap of her sanity]
So, this place you were before, was 'a bit less' what, then?