xistentia | Daemonic Madness

Entry tags:

Daemonic Madness

Characters: Ensemble Cast, maybe even you!
Summary: After Mora's party slides out of hand, even more chaos erupts from the succubus-led group of sex workers and the unknown cabal of thieves on the streets. Characters find themselves caught in the crossfire, or responsible for investigation as a paranoia and possessiveness epidemic spreads over the city.
Date(s): January 14+
Warnings/Notes: Psychological manipulation (magic), sex work (not graphic), theft, violation of rights

Daemonic Madness

your hands the color of a savage harvest

Possessive Paranoia

Tensions have been riding high for awhile, between the succubus Mora and the anonymous group allegedly harassing her and her companions. However, it's not until mid-January, after the "gala," that the snowy holiday season gets shattered. Maybe you feel it yourself, or maybe you just notice when it hits the streets. People are losing their shit.

At first it's just the spouses who were always just a little jealous, the parents who were a little over-protective, materialistic folks with their fine goods. It mostly starts as fear of loss, worry. Checking. But soon, tempers flare, like spikes through the heart, and accusations begin to fly. Ones that make no sense.

It's not just that the affected people get triggered by a wrong look. Instead, it seems that they're starting to see a different person entirely. Enemies from the past, people who had more. The wrong names get named. Hallucinations!

Luckily, most people confine their misunderstandings to brief screaming matches— but points of violence start to spill into the streets. Maybe you're right there when a giant, hawk-winged woman crashes out of a window, tangling with an old witch over a pair of missing shoes-- or it's pistols at dawn with two gentlemen from a nineteenth century Europe analog, and they're both utterly certain the other got their wife.

Closed Subplots

F.A.T.E.S. WARNING SYSTEM
Threat Assessment: Low
Phenomenon Type: Visitor Magic/Native Environment Conflict
Predicted Duration: 2 weeks

Psychic abilities utilized by visitors are interacting with F.A.T.E.S.' safeguards set in place over the city, causing the recent wave of psychosis. Although F.A.T.E.S. had little direct contact with mortal sentience for centuries prior to the current population, algorithms predict that more problems will occur if other visitors do not intervene. Please check each other.

Security Hire

F.A.T.E.S. isn't naming names in her public announcement, but it's pretty clear to anyone with an ear to the ground that the sex workers and thieves are having a series of conflicts. Two of our heroes, Marcus and Rosie find themselves with an unlikely 'in' to help mediate the conflict-- by becoming security personnel. Though what they might ultimately do with any thieves they catch is another question entirely.

Thief Hunting

Are we sure it's Mora's magic that's causing the madness? Who are these thieves? Jughead, Peter Nuruyev and Juno Steel to find out some basic information. One will start by finding out information about sex demons from Ezekiel (

salveo), while the others will speak with other sex workers allied with Mora, and examine evidence left behind from the theft.

Delila

Among the supernatural sex workers with Mora, there's a girl named Delilah with the unique ability to steal the powers of others. She's lost control of her own gift for reasons that the others can't seem to get through to her about, and the others are increasingly worried she's going to unleash new havoc like Mora did. They approach Hunter and Vanyel for help.

OOC: please see thread starters in comments below. As a reminder, your assigned parnters can be found here.

Footnotes

Please ensure that threads are marked with appropriate content warnings!
The plotting post for this event can be found here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The ad was posted up in physical space, which is a somewhat unusual mood in Xistentia. People do love their daemons, and it makes Intranet communication extremely convenient. But one afternoon in the middle of the city, the pale woman who'd identified herself as Mora stomps out with a big roll of paper and an actual nailgun. She posts it up on one of those lamp posts. Ping! Ping! The nailgun makes a startlingly sharp sound.

The poster reads:

WANTED
PEOPLE TO KILL THIEVES ON SIGHT
AND ON SITE

Mora turns and slinks back into the building. Leaning against the outside wall, there is an older man watching her as she goes, frowning slightly. He watches for those who approach the poster.

Considering how digital everything in Xistentia was, Rose can't deny she's... intrigued by the ad that's stapled up. The sound that clangs through the streets draws the attention of many but no one actually approaches. Who it's placed by is also of interest. While they didn't directly interaction, she remembers Mora from the gala.

Hm. The blond steps forward towards the paper displayed and reads it over carefully. She's having trouble with thieves, is she?

"What do you think?" she asks the nearest person who also happened to come closer to investigate. While she doesn't look directly at them just yet, she'd heard and also seen them in her periphery.

It's the old man. Stepping closer. Despite his age, he violates the common stereotypes about elderly people by walking on his own weight, evenly distributed, nothing screwed up about his gait, his breathing, or the clarity of his stare under salt-and-pepper eyebrows. "I think," he says, "this is getting out of hand. This city's built to prevent violence. Sure, it ain't fair that it doesn't also prevent thievin', but that's the breaks.

"And I got a bad feeling about anybody trying to force bloodshed through the protections," he says. He stops by Rosie and looks at the poster. "But you try talking to her about that. I've tried to talk to the young lady three times now. Each time it seems I might be gettin' somewhere, but then she sleeps on it. And a couple days later, she's back on the warpath."

Marcus eyes the older man "What is she expecting us to do? Are we allowed to take out the thieves who are causing trouble?"

Pretty spry for an old guy. The blond listens carefully to the old man's explanation, but then Marcus intervenes and-

"Woah, now. No one's taking out anyone." She hopes 'take out' isn't as drastic a measure as it sounds like. She's not about to take the chance that it is though. "So, she goes back to square one overnight?" The blond's eyes narrow. Suspicious. Usually, people don't flip their switches that fast.

"We can try to talk to her." We, since she figures Marcus is interested enough now to go with her. While she's not the least bit afraid to talk to Mora on her own, well. Numbers can't hurt either.

Marcus looked up and sighed "Numbers just in case we get attacked is always welcomed. He raised his eyebrows "Seems complicated but we can talk to Mora. "

The old man looks both hopeful and doubtful. It's actually a pretty common look in Xistentia, where everybody seems to be hanging on to the promise of a real future with their fingernails. "Well, if you think you can get through to her...

"You'd best take this with you." He reaches up, and tears the poster off the board, and hands it to Rosie. Nodding at Marcus. "She likes strong gestures. She'll listen to you more if you seem like you're up for the job."

It's more a common one that Rose would like but also can't deny. It's probably an expression she's worn more often than even she realized since returning from her home. "Good thing I'm bullheaded as hell," she says to that. It's a Taurus thing.

"But thanks, dude. We'll try to make some headway and hopefully get some of this thievery figured out."

Marcus then walks up eyeing the poster along with another woman who has lighter hair and eyes both Mora and the other woman.

"Hey, you looking for protection against thieves?"

It's an ordinary day. It ought to be. The daemon glitch, the madness is ramping up, much to the alarm of many, who tend to prefer their neighbors at their usual levels of avarice and overprotective. But thus far, the werewolf and the Dragonborn have been leading ordinary days, with husband and girlfriend respectively, friends besides.

And it's on a snowy winter road by the city limits that they find themselves today.

There are a couple of flurries coming down now and then. No big storm, just enough to turn the light grey. There's a car stuck on the side of a road, its wheels lodged in the slushy ditch on the side. The young woman in the driver's seat is visibly bundled up against the chill. She's also visibly slapping her hands against the wheel, the flopping flip of her red hair visible through the back window.

( Despite being far too inhuman to feel the cold, Hunter wears a jacket out on his usual perusal of the city. It's somewhat of a fashion statement, in that it's the only bit of fashion sense Hunter has. And he really only has it because people keep getting him jackets. Not that he's complaining, but credit for his fashion does belong elsewhere. Today's credit goes to Jace, the parabatai of his now vanished twin. It's a little bit of an homage to both men.

He's on his way back home, though in no rush. He's just out to see if anything interesting crops up. If there's any need for him somewhere. Or maybe not a need, but something he can help with. So he's not in a hurry to rush home.

Though maybe he can find some use finally.

He approaches the car, glancing back at another figure in the road. He's not sure if the other person is approaching too, but he taps gently on the window. He does so in a way that he hopes doesn't scare the poor woman. )

Everything all right, ma'am? ( His voice is nearly dripping with genuine concern, having just witnessed Delilah slapping the wheel of the car. She seems familiar, at least in passing... but it's hard to tell between the window and the bundling. )

[Vanyel doesn't entirely trust the stores here, or their suppliers. So, though pickings are obviously slimmer in the winter, he's still been doing some hunting and trapping whenever he can.

It's the latter that brings him out to the city limits, heading toward the woods. The flurries may be light for now, but they could develop into a full-on storm any time. So it's off into the forest he goes, to make sure his traps are protected from the elements and move them if he has to.

He slows, though, when he sees the car stuck on the side of the road, the man already standing by the driver's door. Concerned, he makes his way over. He doesn't know the first thing about cars, but if there's any other way he can help, he'd like to.]

As Hunter draws closer, it's apparent that the woman is having something like-- a panic attack? A tantrum? She's flustered, that much is clear, and when his voice reaches her through the window she sits up with a jolt and looks back, her eyes big in her face.

And that's when the hybrid werewolf feels it. Fur rippling through his skin, the crick and shift of muscles and bones inside the shape of him. A surge of instinct underneath the clarity of his human mind, jumbled predatory whims and thoughts crowding into the coherency of his Good Samaritan's concerns.

It's more than a little distracting. Probably distracting enough that he doesn't notice Vanyel coming up until the Dragonborn is right there.

"Oh my Goddess," the girl at the wheel shrieks, guilt written over her face. "I'm--" she looks at Vanyel first, then cranes her head to peer at Hunter-- who's beginning to find his legs folding, ankles twisting up to become hocks. "I'm— I can't--"

Oh fuck.

"Fuck!" Hunter exclaims, backing away from the car when he feels it.

It's a familiar enough feeling that it's not terrifying in it's own right. What unsettles him is the fact that it's happening without his intent. It feels like the first time he felt the surge of a full moon as a pup. It ripples through him, pulsing under his skin and raising the hairs on his arms. Which stay there, elongating from fine hairs into thick fur.

He falls to his knees, feeling the transformation rip through him as he tries to fight it off. He's not one hundred percent certain, but when he looks up with brighter blue eyes than normal and smaller pupils he snarls through the effort of trying to stop his own transformation ( an effort that is largely unsuccessful. )

"Her. I think- ARGH!" He groans, dipping his head. "Ask her to stop please!" His words are more snarls as he starts to lose the shape of his mouth.

Whatever he was expecting, this is decidedly not it. He backs off a few steps as the man starts to change into a wolf, eyes darting from him to the woman still in the car.

"Can you stop it?" He asks her, because judging by her expression he doesn't think she (if she really is the cause of the other man's sudden transformation) did it on purpose. So it's a distinct possibility she can't control whatever this is-

Hopefully the werewolf? shifter? can at least control his wolfish instincts, or they're going to have a much bigger problem on their hands than the involuntary transformation itself. He subtly prepares to cast a Steadfast Ward, just to be on the safe side.

It doesn't even occur to him that whatever forced the other man's transformation might affect his own magic.

Edited 2018-01-24 23:25 (UTC)

Unfortunately, the scenario that Vanyel did not anticipate is exactly the one that happens. He casts his spell, which is prudent, or would be prudent, except suddenly--

— and it makes no sense with the history of his Warding magic, but the weight of his armor doubles abruptly. Triples. Leather and metal studs thicken, swelling over his shoulders, layers heavily over his chest, light flaring through it. The armor lets out a bizarre groan, as if it is itself uncomfortable with stretching against the bounds of its natural shape, and then abruptly-- its weight quadruples, especially on the left more than the right, threatening to tip Vanyel off-axis even though he's stronger than your average human by far.

"I don't-- I don't know," the girl answers Vanyel, her eyes popping out of her head. Filling with tears. Her attention snaps back to the werewolf whose body is twisting on the pavement, and instantly her expression tightens with regret. She seems to come to some sort of decision in a second. She hits the door, unlocking it, and slips out.

The next moment, she's darting across the street, her scarf flapping in the winter chill from around her throat, abandoning the tilted car. Despite the slippery street, she moves quickly and agilely. As she gets further away, the two men can feel the control over their powers returning.

Edited (editing per van's request <33) 2018-02-02 08:28 (UTC)

Hunter is vaguely aware of the succubus girl climbing out of the car. He hears it. He thinks he even sees it. He certainly smells her as his nose begins to elongate.

Yet his digs claws into the snow, scraping up mud and grass. His haunches settle back in the snow. His bones are very nearly set into shape, fur about to elongate, and suddenly it stops.

The pressure lightens, and he slowly gains control over himself piece by piece. His knees bury in the snow, and fingers are soon slipping on loosened earth. He shudders as his mouth takes it's normal shape again, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. It's been so long since a change took this much energy out of him...

Yet as soon as he gains some of that energy back, he's slipping in the snow as he scrambles to his feet and rushes to Vanyel's side. It's shocking how much he looks like his husband, every single time... but that scent more than reminds him who this really is. That doesn't reduce the concern, though.

"Hey, you okay? She didn't do anything to you, did she?" Even as he asks, he raises his head, sniffs the air deliberately, trying to track where the girl still runs.

The sudden shift in the weight of his armor distracts him rather neatly; he's too busy scrabbling to catch himself as he abruptly lists sideways, and then struggling to rid himself of his now too-cumbersome-to-be-practical armor to take any note of which direction the girl runs off in, though he hears her go.

His struggles with his cuirass in particular also mean he misses the wolf over yonder turning back into a man. "Not-" with one last, vicious tug, the damned thing finally comes off and he lets it fall to the ground. "-directly."

With the cuirass off, it's easier to rid himself of the rest of the warped pieces. Luckily he wears a couple of layers underneath as padding, so he's not going to have to dash through the snow near-naked to find a change of clothes. Or barefoot - the buckles of his boots have taken on interesting new shapes, but the boots themselves are at least still wearable.

"That was the worst of it for me," he continues, gesturing at the mess of leather and steel that used to be perfectly serviceable armor. It's an annoyance, to be sure, but it's clear from his expression as he glances Hunter's way that he thinks the werewolf came off the worse in that little encounter.

At least Vanyel seems unharmed, though Hunter still does a once over of the other man to be certain. He doesn't want to abandon the succubus, but he also doesn't want to drag Vanyel through any discomfort or pain. No need to heap more troubles on them.

Once he's sufficed, Hunter nods his head and stands straighter. He scents the air, catching whiffs of the succubus' direction.

"I don't know if you wanna come along," Hunter starts, glancing back at Vanyel. "But I could probably use your help." Especially since Vanyel, at least, didn't seem as strongly affected as Hunter had been. He wants to help, but he may end up being unable to do much himself.

"I'm going to find her. Something's wrong. I can't just let her go without trying to help." He shrugs. "But I get if you don't want to take that on, either."

Vanyel is unharmed, if a bit put out over the ruining of his armor. He doesn't know what happened to turn his Restoration spell into one of Alteration, nor does he know if he can reverse it. If it turns out he can't and is going to have forge all-new armor from scratch, he'll be - cross.

But that's neither here nor there, at the moment. Whatever the girl may have done, her distress over it makes him think it wasn't intentional, and either way he can't ignore the fact that she seemed to be in distress, if not actual danger.

"I'll come," he says. "I may not be able to use magic once we get within a certain distance of her, but I'll still be able to talk ." Which he's guessing Hunter won't, if he ends up involuntarily transforming again.

"Not to be rude, but you think you can handle a wolf?" Hunter asks, and he means it when he says he doesn't mean to be rude about it. "It's been centuries since I've lost control of it, but it's also been centuries since I've turned against my will. I don't know how far things might go if we keep going."

This is an inspiring thing to say, Hunter's aware. It's probably more argument for him to not go. But he can't help himself. He saw the look on that poor woman's face before she ran, he saw the upset before he'd started turning. She's in trouble, and he can't leave her out there like that.

So he scents the air, and starts moving in the direction of the scent before he loses it. He leaves Vanyel to decide if he wants to take the risk that might come with his wolf. He'll try to stop it, but already this is beyond his usual expertise.

He doesn't need to think about that for long - he's a fair enough figher even without his magic in the equation, so not exactly defenseless should things go awry. As to whether he can handle a wolf specifically, well... he certainly has enough experience scaring them away from his campsites.

"I'm fairly certain I can handle it," he answers evenly, not offended by the concern or the warnings. But he's not willing to sit this out either, after seeing the look on that young woman's face - the perils of the heroing business.

So when Hunter shifts and starts heading deeper into the woods, Vanyel only takes a moment to pull his cloak more tightly around himself before he follows the black wolf. He may end up regretting this decision later, but he knows he'd regret turning his back more.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daemonic Madness

CLOSED SUBPLOTS

Marcus & Rosie;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: Marcus & Rosie;

Hunter & Vanyel;

no subject

no subject

powerpose, lmk if not ok!

i'm down!

no subject

taking some liberties with van now, lmk if not ok!

no subject

no subject

skipping succubus' turn

no subject

no subject

no subject