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Forced Confessions
Characters: Ensemble cast, any/all characters of Xistentia!
Summary: At the end of a spring-time mingle party, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. unleashes a psychic weapon that forces characters to confess their secrets to one another. Check out the mod announcement for more information.
Date(s): First 2 weeks of April 2018
Warnings/Notes: Psychic influence/coercion, potential trauma, etc. in confessions. Please use subject header warnings appropriately!
It begins with a party, out in the woods of Xistentia, with drinks, food, and fairy lights. The glade is illuminated in a brilliant palette of jewel tones, the most intense where the dancefloor stretches out between glow-in-the-dark marked trees, punctuated by F.A.T.E.S.' ever jarring, mismatched combination of musical tunes. Not far from that, you have enclosures of soft bedding set aside in mood-lit shadows, and veiled by mosquito net, for those of us who prefer more privacy.
The deeper nightclub colors fade to a warm, lustrous gold where there are spaces to sit, socialize, and eat.
Other liquid refreshments include a blood bar, courtesy of Rafaello d'Este's local business.
But on the fifth evening, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. strikes. There's a warning— only 10 minutes in advance-- over the network, even while the vast majority of revelers are a little too busy to pay any attention to their daemons.
A black ball of some writhing, metallic substance abruptly comes tearing through the atmosphere, the size of your average adult human curled into fetal position. As it breaks through layers of gas, it adopts an orange glow for a brief instant. It's easily lost in the canopy, even for the most agile and practiced of Xistentia residents. It's impossible to tell what it is. A faint whine fills the air, and a moment later, the projectile detonates. The scent of tar fills the forest along with shouts of dismay. And too little too late, F.A.T.E.S. warning system begins to blare that a contaminant has entered the atmosphere.
However, apart from a few bruises, panic and partial deafness, nobody seems harmed at all. That is, until the compulsion sets in.
Your secrets, both large and small, suddenly become wrenching fodder for impulsive speech... or signing, texting, any multitude of communication methods wind up hijacked. The worst of it comes when you face someone you know and love. Sheer willpower might stave off the urge long enough for your character to get out of range for conversation, and it might be a good time to avoid company for awhile. It will come randomly, in spikes, for 2 weeks to follow.
Feel free to use the confessions thread here to start some textspam trouble!
A week later, F.A.T.E.S. and both magic and science-minded researchers have analyzed the goop. The worst of the epidemic is localized around the party, though psychic ripples continue to be felt across Xistentia for a few days.
And now we need cleanup.
It's a motley group of unlikely volunteers. Some people are just lucky— they have no secrets they fear to share, or perhaps just no shame. Others are just good samaritans, willing to risk a terrifying level of honesty in the interest of preventing further damage to the relationships that make Xistentia run.
In any case, the group finds themselves armed with gloves, rubber suits, and floating glass containment orbs, manipulable with gestures, that can absorb the black ichor off the trees, earth, and furniture. This will be stored at the temple. And what we'll do with it—
Who knows. Or perhaps you and your compatriots have an idea for the substance permanent disposal to share.
Summary: At the end of a spring-time mingle party, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. unleashes a psychic weapon that forces characters to confess their secrets to one another. Check out the mod announcement for more information.
Date(s): First 2 weeks of April 2018
Warnings/Notes: Psychic influence/coercion, potential trauma, etc. in confessions. Please use subject header warnings appropriately!
Forced Confessions Event
I admit I'm on the rebound And I don't care
Five-Day Party
It begins with a party, out in the woods of Xistentia, with drinks, food, and fairy lights. The glade is illuminated in a brilliant palette of jewel tones, the most intense where the dancefloor stretches out between glow-in-the-dark marked trees, punctuated by F.A.T.E.S.' ever jarring, mismatched combination of musical tunes. Not far from that, you have enclosures of soft bedding set aside in mood-lit shadows, and veiled by mosquito net, for those of us who prefer more privacy.
The deeper nightclub colors fade to a warm, lustrous gold where there are spaces to sit, socialize, and eat.
Other liquid refreshments include a blood bar, courtesy of Rafaello d'Este's local business.
Psychic Bomb: The Confessions (April 5-14)
But on the fifth evening, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. strikes. There's a warning— only 10 minutes in advance-- over the network, even while the vast majority of revelers are a little too busy to pay any attention to their daemons.
A black ball of some writhing, metallic substance abruptly comes tearing through the atmosphere, the size of your average adult human curled into fetal position. As it breaks through layers of gas, it adopts an orange glow for a brief instant. It's easily lost in the canopy, even for the most agile and practiced of Xistentia residents. It's impossible to tell what it is. A faint whine fills the air, and a moment later, the projectile detonates. The scent of tar fills the forest along with shouts of dismay. And too little too late, F.A.T.E.S. warning system begins to blare that a contaminant has entered the atmosphere.
However, apart from a few bruises, panic and partial deafness, nobody seems harmed at all. That is, until the compulsion sets in.
Your secrets, both large and small, suddenly become wrenching fodder for impulsive speech... or signing, texting, any multitude of communication methods wind up hijacked. The worst of it comes when you face someone you know and love. Sheer willpower might stave off the urge long enough for your character to get out of range for conversation, and it might be a good time to avoid company for awhile. It will come randomly, in spikes, for 2 weeks to follow.
Feel free to use the confessions thread here to start some textspam trouble!
Bomb Resolution (April 12+)
A week later, F.A.T.E.S. and both magic and science-minded researchers have analyzed the goop. The worst of the epidemic is localized around the party, though psychic ripples continue to be felt across Xistentia for a few days.
And now we need cleanup.
It's a motley group of unlikely volunteers. Some people are just lucky— they have no secrets they fear to share, or perhaps just no shame. Others are just good samaritans, willing to risk a terrifying level of honesty in the interest of preventing further damage to the relationships that make Xistentia run.
In any case, the group finds themselves armed with gloves, rubber suits, and floating glass containment orbs, manipulable with gestures, that can absorb the black ichor off the trees, earth, and furniture. This will be stored at the temple. And what we'll do with it—
Who knows. Or perhaps you and your compatriots have an idea for the substance permanent disposal to share.
no subject
For all the pieces her heart had broken into when Ren was killed saving her, she was eventually able to pick them again. In part because of Vanyel and others that had shown her she was capable of loving and being loved along the way. If the same were to happen to Vanyel as Ren though? She's not sure she'd be able to find a will to keep on living after him as she did back then. She's not sure she'd want to. ]
Don't say that, [ she finally answers, voice catching as she starts to bite back tears forming on her waterline. ] I'm not supposed to be able to live without you, not- Not the other way around? I know how silly that sounds, but I just. I didn't think. I was always told I was never going to be able to mean anything to anyone so I-
[ I believed it. And while he had proposed, while he is still here practically begging to give him a chance she supposes there's still some part of her telling her that she isn't worth anything despite it all. ]
I'm not going to say I won't, [ she continues instead, reaching out to keep him close now instead of drawing away. ] But I'll. I'll give you the chance. If you can't find a way though, I'm still. I'm going to do what I have to.
no subject
With Rose, though? He'd damn near lost his mind when she was only missing. If she were to die... he'd probably become a permanent resident of the Shivering Isles in truth. And if his behavior that week was any indicator, he'd likely be destructive enough in his grief to make Alduin himself green with envy.]
It's only the truth. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Rose, and I want that to be longer than... well, however much longer we're stuck here. So...
[So he can't be entirely happy, hearing that she won't abandon this plan of hers completely. But he can't honestly fault her for wanting to do whatever it takes to end a massive threat to her world, either. Even if he could, she's as stubborn as he is - this is the closest they're likely to come to a truly even compromise.]
I suppose that's all I can ask of you. [But despite his dissatisfaction at the outcome, he reels her in when she draws close, holding her like she might vanish at any moment if he doesn't.]
no subject
But hopefully, it won't come to that. Hopefully. ]
I do, too. I want it to be forever, [ she admits, thanks to D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s influence. This admittance, at least, isn't one that's bad. But it isn't something she'd outright say otherwise. ] And I don't know if that's possible, but... I hope we can find a way. I do.
[ She keeps her arms firmly around him, taking in his scent and warmth. ]
Are we... gonna' be okay?
no subject
So for now, at least, there's still some shred of hope.]
As do I. [He admits, carding his fingers through her curls. It's a moment before he can answer the question, because... well, he's not sure himself. But he's not about to give her up, even now. So...]
I... Yes. I think so.
no subject
Okay, [ she breathes out, clearly relieved. ] Okay, I just. I would get it, I guess, if we weren't. Or if this meant...
[ Changes. Second thoughts. She can't bring herself to say it but of course she had worried, if only briefly, what this might mean. ]
i actually hurt *myself* with this one so i apologize in advance >.>
If- [He falters, has to start again.] If you do have to... do as you planned... I don't want to have wasted a moment, or... left anything undone, between us.
[By which he means: even if he can only be her husband until their time here is up, if that's all the life together they can have... he'd still rather have it than not.]
8((( how very dare
Me neither, [ she says, giving a tired sort of sigh. She would have understood, if he hadn't wanted to stay. Rose had understood when Misto didn't. He'd come back, in the end, and maybe Vanyel would have as well but- She's glad that she didn't lose him to begin with. ]
So we'll make the best of it, alright? All the time we do have. And hopefully, if we get more time, then we'll just have to find ways to top it. Sound like a plan?
[ Maybe a little optimistic spin isn't a bad thing here. ]
no subject
Yes, it does. [He says, with a tired sigh of his own. He's trying to be optimistic about this too, especially given his track record of succeeding at seemingly-impossible tasks through sheer bloody-minded determination... but just the idea of losing her terrifies him.
His grip tightens, just a little. It doesn't solve anything, but... it does make him feel just a tiny bit better, feeling her warmth and heartbeat and breath.]