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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
The throne? Your favorite word? [ 'kneel' ] Your color scheme?
[ black leather and green, don't even deny it, booboo. ]
no subject
I suppose that makes you the adopted one.
no subject
[ like stranded kittens. he knows that isn't the case (probably), but their actual bloodline means so little to thor that it may as well be. loki is his brother more than anyone sharing his genes ever could be, and given that, he watches loki's features shift, and knows what's going through his head behind those eyes, at least in a vague sense. ]
Hey. Things about her shook both of us. [ thor tells him quietly, hands on his cheeks, leaning up enough to press a kiss to his forehead. the biggest hit for him was all odin told him about worthiness, about his legacy, mjolnir, peace over war, so many lies thor'd constructed his entire person around and where does it leave him now? ] Who we are from here on is our own creation.
no subject
His eyes flare briefly, scaled green. ]
What does that make us, Thor? What are we, truly?
no subject
[ Always, no matter what changes they go through, what they win back or lose in the process, Loki will always be, first and foremost, Thor's beloved brother. His family. What more are they beyond that, individually? Well, it's hard to say just yet. Princes still, he supposes. It's so difficult to think of himself as King, when he's going to be so heavily reliant on Loki, Heimdal and Valkyrie to help him guide the people.
What are they to each other? Too many things to name. ]
What do you want us to be?
no subject
Equals. I wanted us to be equals.
no subject
[ tbor's kneejerk reaction is to want to tell him 'that's all we've ever been in my eyes', but he knows even he is guilty of that one. He'd been a nightmares of a brother when they came into their own, obsessed with his own glory, his stance as king to be, and assured that Loki, his loyal little brother would ever be there at his side, ever content to follow his lead, even into the depths of Hel.
He contributed to Loki's descent plenty in his own right. So, it's with a deep sincerity that he answers, raising his hand to cover the back of his brother's against his cheek. ]
I swear it. Equals, in everything.
no subject
What should he feel?
What is Loki now?
Tamed is the word on his tongue. ]
You shouldn't swear it so easily. You shouldn't — You shouldn't do that.
no subject
[ Thor frowns, head tilted as he watches Loki, suspecting something dark is rolling around in his head, behind sharp, bright eyes. His brother constantly doubts himself, doubts the things around them, and Thor wishes he could be the spirit of confidence and faith for him, but they're damned to live in separate skins. ]
It's what we should've been from the beginning. [ But then there was Asgard and all it's obsession with gold and glory, and Thor with his head up his own ass. A hand strokes through Loki's hair again, attempting to soothe. ]
I want nothing that puts me on a level unequal to you. Loki, I don't even want this throne.
no subject
Thor.
[ Worrying on his lower lip. That's not what he wanted. That's not what he wanted at all. Loki doesn't want to be the albatross around Thor's neck, dragging him to Loki's level. Propping himself up slightly so that he can meet Thor at eye level, sharp and true. ]
Promise me you won't do that. That you will not give up what is yours for my sake alone. I won't abide it. I cannot.
[ He pauses, his breath coming out in sharp puffs. ]
It is a burden but it is also a privilege. To deny it just because it won't come to me. It'll do us no favors. Not you or me. Equality is in here — [ And he takes Thor's hand, letting his large fingers stroke Loki's forehead. ] and in here — [ Loki tugs Thor's hand to his chest. ]
More than words. More than gestures. It is a meeting of the mind and soul. I've loved you for as long as I live, but this — this needs to be worked on between us. With time.
no subject
[ mimicked back to him because, oh my odin, he's going to shake you. ]
Did I say I was giving up the throne? [ Thor makes a point to get all leveled and sharp back to him. he might act like a moron half the time because it amuses the hell out of him, but he knows what he's doing, and what's going on around him. ] I said I don't actually want it, not that I'm refusing it.
[ because someone has to lead, and Loki's too complicated of a choice in what's left of Asgard's people for them to handle right now, and Heimdall won't let him shrink from this either. It was more to speak to the point that being on unequal footing in the manner they'd fought over before isn't something he's interested in in the least anymore. Though, that's apparently not what's being discussed here either.
He's quiet for a moment after, considering what Loki said, the meeting of mind and soul, and working on what's between them. He isn't wrong, they're a fucking mess right now, and have been for a long while, spiraling out of control. It's merely the lull in the entropy that Xistentia allows them that's given this reprieve. ]
I understand. We'll work on it. There's a lot that's been missing between us. [ They split a long while ago, stopped being so in rhythm, stopped having the same thought at the same moment, and now they're adrift, where they stand with one another, with themselves, a tangled mess. ] You realize for the last thousand years we've argued at least once a week, if not daily, right?
[ meeting their minds is going to be Difficult, he's jussayin. but, that's mostly a joke, because bickering is just their language with one another. ]
no subject
Yes. I have not forgotten.
no subject
I missed that. [ Thor tells him quietly, an adoringly warm smile on his lips, watching Loki like he hasn't seen him in years. ]
Your laugh.
[ leaning up, thor tilts Loki's face to him with a hand on his chin, kissing him soft and slow. ]
no subject
What a strange thing to miss. A laugh. Of all the things Loki has missed, he would have never considered that. ]
no subject
No one makes me laugh like you do, you know. [ Thor tells him after parting from the kiss, but lingering close, brushing the tip of his nose against Loki's. ]
Or makes me feel alive. Whole.
no subject
Well, obviously. Who could compare?
no subject
Glad we've come to a mutual understanding on that.
no subject
It took you long enough.
no subject
And this was just a fact you've been aware of since the beginning of us, is it? Would've been nice if you let me in on it sooner.
no subject
It's hardly my fault it takes you forever to catch on.
no subject
[ the hands on loki's wrists slip to push into his fingers, still trapping his arms above his head, but a bit sweeter, leaning down to kiss him slow and indulgent. ]
no subject