![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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
Laufey had one. That must be how Odin knew me for his kin.
[ Briefly, Loki wonders if Laufey knew. He always get the sense that the giant king suspected Loki. After all, no self-respecting Asgardian would be so bold as to orchestrate a coup of their king over sibling rivalry. But . . . like Loki, Laufey saw opportunity and took it. ]
no subject
Fate knew you were born to be both a prince and a king.
[ Thor may be king of what's left of Asgard, but Loki has two realms under his belt, so he has him beat in that respect. also to the fact he managed to grab the asgardian throne before Thor's butt could touch it either. if they ever truly had a battle for power, Thor would be vastly out-matched when it came to Loki. Where he'd had such anxiety and doubt over assuming his father's title before, knowing Loki will be there to guide him makes it feel all that much more manageable.
Plucking the buttons of his shirt and vest open, Thor pushes them off Loki's shoulders, suit jacket and all, before reaching for the hem of whatever obnoxiously tacky shirt he'd chosen to wear today, stripping it off. It doesn't seem fair that Loki be made bare and vulnerable and he wouldn't.]
no subject
no subject
He mimics the motion, following the trail of raised lines along Loki's neck and chest like reading braille, slow and curious, running back to retrace ones he particularly likes the shape of. ]
If your crown mark means royalty, do you think the others might have a meaning? [ Lifting his hand, Thor moves to touch another set of lines, as if naming each of them. ] Sorcerer. [ Another set. ] Strategist. [ Touching yet another. ] Smart ass.
[ a smirk. ]
no subject
They're probably nothing. Just markings.
no subject
[ Really, Loki is entirely his own creature, so unique and extraordinary, so why shouldn't he get to invent his own meanings? or, you know, let Thor do it. Which he's going to, as he eases Loki back to lay down on the bed, so he can look over his torso and arms better, hovering over him on hands and knees. He traces on line over Loki's throat. ]
Silver tongued. [ Another along his right arm. ] Scholar. [ One on his side, leading down towards his hip. ] Relentlessly incredible in bed.
[ nurr hurr hurr. ]
no subject
I think you missed all my duplicitous lines.
no subject
[ This is Thor's Innocent Face, looking completely serious as he checks Loki's sides for more lines, murmuing 'nope, nope', before gripping his shoulder and half one side of his ass through his slacks to roll him over on his stomach. ]
Ah, so I did. [ He exclaims, like he's some kind of master of jotun lines and what they mean. Clearly these are the duplicitous ones over here. ] Here we have them - Prankster, Violent tendencies towards beloved brothers who never deserved anything but hugs, aaaand Bad Morning Breath.
no subject
Perhaps you're in dire need of some wisdom lines if you think you can insult my breath and get away with it.
no subject
Then conjure us a marker and add them. [ as if he's ever feared what Loki might do to him for one insult or another. even the stabbing he didn't particularly mind much. they were never in a place that would do real harm to him. ] Unless you've other means for it.
[ Loki could turn him into Sif for a little bit, survey he could add a few lines for fun. ]
no subject
How about that?
no subject
I don't know, can't see it from here. Did you give me the crown one too? [ reaching up one the hand loki had to unpin to touch his forehead, thor pats around, trying to find the lines. he should definitely get the crown one too. ]
no subject
You don't look like much of a Frost Giant.
no subject
[ Aside from his sneaking over to Jotunheim to plot chaos on Thor's coronation and all that, Thor doubts he's ever walked through a village or talked to the Frost Giants at all beyond that. Half because they'd have punted him off the end of a glacier for it, likely. Point is, he's calling bullshit. ]
You're just jealous I make a better Frost Giant than you do.
no subject
Well, I'm not terribly surprised. You've beaten me in everything else.
no subject
Pfft. Hardly. I can swing a hammer. You can bend reality and wander from realm to realm at your will. [ which is a much more impressive talent, Thor would say. ] Half the things I've done I would've never managed without you.
[ his hands wander, trying to lace his fingers with Loki's. ]
no subject
Rather than these markings.
But Loki says something else instead, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. His breath is like cool mountain air, crisp against the face. ]
You don't need to compliment me to keep me.
no subject
[ And really, it's the truth. Loki isn't like some foreign princess to charm, or some bar maid or warrior he's seeking to snag for himself. Loki is Loki, his brother, the other half of him, and he doesn't think anything he can really say is needed to keep him. Or, if he meant to leave, and idle compliments would convince him to stay. It's something else entirely. ]
Did you think I was lying when I said I'd thought the world of you?
no subject
[ He shudders. ]
No, but . . . [ Loki can't articulate himself this time. That particular moment had not been easy for him. To watch Thor casually say that he mattered but their paths diverged. To know it was his own making. Loki used to be able to wring out every bit of emotion from his brother. He needed to know he mattered. ]
no subject
[ he knows, because he knows his brother. He knows him saying that had a lot to do with loki following him back to asgard anyway. but it hadn't been said out of an attempt to trick him, or hurt him, or get his way.
Truly, Thor was at his end. He'd mourned and mourned, and fought and pulled at him, and it all just ruined them further. To him, it was time to just let his brother go. If he cared at all for Loki's happiness and health, he'd had to stop clinging to him, accept that the bond they had was dead. ]
What else could I have done? [ he asks, voice soft but serious, as his hands run along Loki's thighs are his sides. ] Beg you again? Force you home again? You grew apart from me and I was trying to drag you back. It was cruel. Your life is your own, you should have been allowed to do what you like with it long ago.
no subject
I don't fault you for it.
[ He moves to lie down next to Thor, a nuzzle at his neck. ]
I never thought you'd actually do it. I never believed you'd let me go.
[ Because Loki couldn't. He never could. ]
no subject
[ Thor murmurs, a small sadness in his voice, as he reaches up to run his hand through Loki's hair, brushing it back from his forehead, down the back of his neck. This is comfortable, seems familiar, to lay around in bed, cuddled up close and chatting over bits of life, of things between themselves, wonders and dreams and stories. all they're missing is the blanket pulled over their head and a book for Loki to read him stories from. ]
It took me years, mourning you twice, mourning our parents as well. I needed to stop getting in the way of your happiness. [ A smile pulls at his lips, sad but fond. He had to stop treating Loki like his wild, capricious little brother at some point. Let him live outside of the shade his overbearing cast on him. ] Perhaps I could've knocked you out and dragged you back home, tossed you in a dungeon just to make you stay put and out of trouble. But what good would it have done either of us? You'd escape, we'd fight, it'd all go back around.
Something had to give. I decided it would be me before you.
[ Sure, Thor's stubbornness is legendary, but most people who speak of it have never met his brother. ]
no subject
I cannot believe I am more stubborn than you.
no subject
You are stubborn as a boar when you want to be. I have the knife scars to prove it.
[ Thor tells him, and Loki can likely feel the vibrations from his throat as he speaks, his check sat on top of Loki's hair. ]
no subject
[ But he lets out a faint yawn, used to the reverberations under him. They used to do this when they were children and even long past, during late nights and hunts. His eyelashes flutter, a thin line of forest green peeking out from under it. ]
And you never minded before. It's as if you knew you were protecting me from myself.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)