Forced Confessions

[spoofer]

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!

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.
Dining options feature treats from across the multiverse, including spice candy that will make your tongue feel just the faintest touch of a sting, native meats prepared with sauces and salts, and a variety of fruit and vegetables, some of which have a bioluminescent glow. Some of the wines are strong enough to knock a werewolf's metabolism on its ass— and these are marked with an audio sign, repeating the same warning over and over.

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.

Comments

[dothelokimotion]

[ He can't help the small twinge of bitterness. Loki will never be fully comfortable with his own skin. It'll never be a form he'll take on without self-loathing. ]

Of course they are.

[shadowblends]

If they run people off, that means there are less willing to help them fight.

[another tray of alcohol comes within reach, although kurt stops himself mid-grab, features creasing thoughtfully.] All the people I've met here, though ... They've never treated me differently because I look this way.

[dothelokimotion]

It's not about the people.

It's how you see yourself.

[ And for all of Loki's vanity, he'll never have that kind of confidence. It is a dichotomy only Loki possesses. He may seem himself as better than the rest but hate himself all the more for what others have that he does not. ]

[shadowblends]

[a third platter comes by and nightcrawler appropriates two glasses this time. he curls one close enough to smell, takes hold of it with his tail then offers the second goblet to loki.]

So, [he begins.] We need to work on your self-confidence, then.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki splutters. ]

What?

[shadowblends]

Did I stutter?

[dothelokimotion]

My self-confidence does not need work. Of any kind.

[shadowblends]

I'd say otherwise. [but that's none of his business! (he's sipping wine instead of tea, but details)]

[dothelokimotion]

[ He bristles. ]

What is there to say?

[shadowblends]

[kurt levels him with a look. surely, he doesn't need to spell it out, right?]

You know what I'm talking about.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki purses his lips. ]

Clarify for me then.

[shadowblends]

There's no reason you shouldn't be comfortable in the skin you were born with, Loki.

[an indignant little huff.] I'm sure you're perfect the way you are.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki hisses. ]

I didn't even know this skin of mine existed until a few years ago.

[shadowblends]

All the more reason for you to be curious about it, I'd say.

[dothelokimotion]

Why would I be curious of something that has marked me as an enemy among my own people?

[shadowblends]

Because how else will you prove to them that you aren't what they expect you to be?

[dothelokimotion]

It cannot be proven.

[ He is everything they ever thought he would be. What they would be. ]

[shadowblends]

[kurt promptly falls silent, realization burning like the bile rising in his throat.]

I'm sorry, [he finally says.] But that doesn't mean you can't be one of the first, does it?

[dothelokimotion]

I'm not interested in that.

[ He's proven himself to Thor. Little else matters. ]

I am myself. That's all.

[shadowblends]

Then, you just— just keep being yourself. [he huffs a breath, straightens his posture and flashes the slightest grin.]

I like you the way you are, no matter how you decide to present yourself.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki doesn't know what to make of that statement, so he lets it settle without budging. There's only so much weakness he's willing to tolerate from himself. ]

Have you no regrets with the way you present yourself to the world?

[shadowblends]

[kurt blinks, momentarily contemplative before shaking his head.]

I've never presented myself in a way that I feel self-conscious? Aside from looking the way I do, I'm not nearly as frightening as others like to think.

[dothelokimotion]

No?

Not even once?

[shadowblends]

Well, maybe once ... [he pauses, lets the anticipation build then heaves a defeated sigh.]

It happened during a moment of panic and isn't something I've really spoken about with anyone.

[dothelokimotion]

What happened?

[ Loki asks, without a hint of remorse. ]