EVENT: Kind Gestures and Dark Mirrors

[spoofer]

Characters: Ensemble cast, any/all characters of Xistentia!
Summary: While F.A.T.E.S. encourages kind gestures to repair the city's shield, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. sends their agent to sabotage everything with a virus. Infected characters turn into dark mirror versions of themselves, ready to burn the very bridges we were supposed to rebuild.
Date(s): 9 - 26 May. Check out THE MOD ANNOUNCEMENT for more information.
Warnings/Notes: Psychic influence, potential trauma, violence and upsetting themes. Please use subject header warnings appropriately!

KIND GESTURES & DARK MIRRORS EVENT

It's emotional warfare on a dimensional scale.

NOT SO/GRAND GESTURES

While the confessions might have helped some, hurt looks and uncomfortable silences abound across the city. The shield over the city has started to flicker and transmit odd, geometric shadows across the ground. One thing is clear: we have to fix this.

F.A.T.E.S. has a solution. On the morning of 9 May, F.A.T.E.S. will send a message to all residents through their daemons:

F.A.T.E.S. WARNING SYSTEM
Threat Assessment: Moderate
Phenomenon Type: Shield Fluctuations
Predicted Duration: 2 weeks to Critical Failure

The psychic bomb has crippled the defense system over Xistentia. As a result, the modified laws of physics that protect physical consent within the city limits are experiencing problems. Be aware that this means mild injury from physical assaults are now possible within the city.

To repair protective functions, residents are kindly requested to kiss and makeup. Just kissing would also be helpful. Friendly gestures varying from gifted coffee or morning salutations will also be extremely helpful contributions. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In other words, it's time to rebuild bridges. Residents are all encouraged to talk, to reach out to the people around them. Do something nice for a friend, or an acquaintance, or a stranger in need. Of course, if it feels a little forced— that should come as a surprise to no one. F.A.T.E.S. is but an awkward SUPERCOMPUTER, after all.

Good Samaritan: Help a little old lady across the street. Alternatively, given the consent defenses are dialed down, maybe you'll catch somebody about to be hit by a falling pot plant from a higher-floor window. Time to rescue!

Grand Romance: A single rose, a bouquet of flowers; their named tattooed over your heart, or a sword engraved with the insignias of one's ancestors; a boombox held outside the window or an acoustic guitar solo among the fireflies. If you love somebody, this is the time to let it out.

Family Dinner: Whether it's blood or a found family, this would be the time to reconcile over a spread. Or at least-- to try. Funnily enough, even conflict technically feeds energy into the city; a little bickering never killed anybody. But of course, if the argument kills the relationship... that's a turn for the worst, for the city as well as for you.

Apology Gifts: If you made a mess during the psychic bomb event, this would be the time to clean it up. Write a letter, send the text, or show up on the doorstep amid pouring rain.

Wildcard: Want to make a different gesture? Be F.A.T.E.S.' guest.

Enter the Villain

That doesn't really work for D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.


The enemy takes the opportunity to contact their agent Ignacio, giving him instructions to plug a data stick into the Chronological Cartographer in the Temple, in order to release a virus.

During the early hours of the morning on 9 May, Ignacio carries out his mission. The virus takes F.A.T.E.S. by surprise, crippling their internal defences and spreading quickly through their system. All computer systems managed by F.A.T.E.S. suffer disruption, including characters' daemons. All over the city, individuals experience change. The infected have turned into Mirror Versions of themselves. They remember everything about their lives, but their personalities and perspectives have changed. Instead of trying to rebuild, they want to tear down everything they once held dear.

DELETING THE VIRUS (May 26 +)

Over the course of the month, F.A.T.E.S. will be working desperately to clear the virus from their system and from every infected timeline. Daemons will continue to experience glitches, lag and crashes throughout the month.

Finally, by 26 May, F.A.T.E.S. manages to isolate the last pockets of the virus and stop it from replicating. From there, it's a simple matter to delete it from the rest of the system. Over the next few days, all afflicted individuals will return to normal.

Over the next few days, all afflicted individuals will return to normal - and then it's time to pick up the pieces.

Now feeling much more like themselves again, everyone who turned into a mirror will remember everything they did while infected. Now is the time for damage control - both for your personal lives, and for the city's defences. Xistentia is now more vulnerable than ever.

The deleting of the virus will mean a sudden and immediate change for some, and a slower, more gradual change for others. However, all characters will have returned entirely to normal by the end of the month.

ANYTHING ELSE

You can find more information on this event, as well as opportunities for plotting, in our Event Plotting Post!

Comments

Marcos Diaz | OTA + 1 closed prompt

[outshiny]

i. BUILDING BRIDGES

---

[ Marcos had been lucky when the truth bomb hit. He hadn't been at the event, hadn't really felt like partying. John had taken a dose of it, though, and they'd had a heart to heart that hadn't made Marcos feel better about any part of his life right now. The healthy thing, most likely, would be to deal with that. Address it directly, maybe talk to someone. He's not, because there's nothing to say. Now F.A.T.E.S. says they've got to shore up the place. Well, fine, but there's plenty he can do without addressing his own personal elephant in the room. The issues he has with Lorna didn't start here.

So he can be found about the streets, not actually dealing with his issues, but trying to help other people instead. This whole thing is about good Samaritan work, right? Well, he can do that. He can more than do that. He can be found helping out where he can; picking up litter, cleaning windows, carrying things home for people. On finding that they lived in a building with old, shoddy pipework, he sets about fixing it, shooting out lasers from his fingertips to cut the damaged parts away and weld repairs into place. It's all going pretty well. ]

Hey, you want to hand me that piece of pipe? The big one, right by your feet.

[ And now you're conscripted to help. Lucky you, right? ]

ii. MIRRORS (OTA)

---

[ He wouldn't say he knew when the change happened. He hadn't clocked that. Maybe it happened overnight. Maybe it happened while he was brushing his teeth; he's not sure. There hadn't been any big bang of revelation. There'd just been thoughts turning over in his head, like there always are, and one minute they'd meant one thing and the next they'd meant another.

He's spent so long trying to be something, and ignoring everything he wants in the process. Hadn't that been the exact side of himself that he wanted to leave behind with the cartel? Honestly, right now, the cartel doesn't seem so bad. It doesn't even seem that different to what he's been doing with the mutants in his world. He'd had so many arguments with so many people, and he can't even parse the reason why.

He's changed his clothes. Flannel and denim have given way to a tailored black suit, which took longer to find than you'd think. Now he's in the city, wandering through it, seeing how wide the variety of people here is. The first time someone brushes past him, he flashes a light so brightly into their face that they curse, grab their face and reel away from him. He grimaces, closing his hands together. He's itching for more, and he can feel the light ready to explode from beneath his palms. He opens his fingers, letting it shine out and causing startled confusion among the people around him. By the time he's through, he's strolling through a crowd that parts willingly for him, though he can feel their eyes on his back. That's good. It's about time these people learned some respect. ]

iii. THERAPY (closed to Lorna)

---

[ Only yesterday, he'd been avoiding her. It had been hard to be in a room together, conflicted as he had been about his feelings for her. He'd still loved her, of course. There was never any doubt about that, but the hard facts of what she'd done, what she'd become back home, had complicated everything. It had been worse after their friends got here, underlining all those issues.

Today, it couldn't matter less. Marcos can see the way forward. He has vision; no, he has clarity. He doesn't understand why it took him so long, why he was pushing away the one person who'd ever meant anything to him just because of what? Because he liked pretending to be something he wasn't? Because he'd fooled himself, somehow, into thinking he held some kind of high ground?

Fuck that mess. He doesn't even want the high ground. The high ground doesn't fucking work. He's seen that his whole life. He knows exactly where she is, obviously. They haven't been that far out of touch. He goes there at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on his face. He's wearing a suit, because he's dressing for the fucking occasion. Pants, jacket, shirt with the top button popped on the collar, all black. He stops to lean against the wall of the house he knows she's in. Then he smashes the bottle he's carrying against the side, catching the glass in his hands. He raises them, before flooding the shards with light and aiming the spectacle through her window.
She's the only one who'll understand that message. He lets it shine and waits, ready for her at last. ]

iv. CREATE YOUR OWN

---

[ Prompt Marcos! My plotting comment is here, or I'm available on plurk at halfbloodly ]

iii.

[magnetizing]

( where she lives isn't exactly a huge secret to her former friends, and lover in Marcos' case. despite everything, Lorna has a vested interest in seeing everyone get home safely. she may have removed herself from the underground, but that didn't mean she lost all concern for the underground's survival.

especially of one person in particular. it may run a little more personal than most with Marcos, but she was big enough to admit that.

still, he kept to his side of Xistentia, and she kept to hers. so when she sees the light flickering brighly into her room in strange patterns, she doesn't have to guess at the cause.

leaning out her window, she looks strangely down at Marcos. )

What are you doing? ( pause as she takes in his looks. ) And what are you wearing?

ii

[sadico]

[ It was more pain than he had ever experienced in his very long life. So much that he thought he might dissolve to mist, but the nature of the attack would not allow him to sink into that comforting form- instead he trembled on the ground, slumped against a wall, his hands on his burning face as he did everything in his power not to scream.

What had just happened to him?!

He had been walking. The faces of the masses blur together, but as he sat there he forced himself to remember. What was it? It was a man. A man in a fine black suit, he remembered it was an exquisite cut and he'd been tempted to ask him who his tailor was before his vision exploded in darkness. No, not darkness, light. It was more light than he'd ever witnessed and he imagined the experience would have been the same if he'd stared directly into the sun.

His regeneration was stunted, so when he moved his hands from his face his completion looked ashen. He forced himself to his feet and blinked away the blurriness and spots. He couldn't see the man anymore but he couldn't have gone far, so he reached out to him with his mind. ]

What are you!?

hanako 'rosalina' nurumi 🌹 original character (ota + closed)

[hasitsthorns]

I. It's Too Late to Apologize (OTA)

[ It is not actually too late to apologize, but- That doesn't mean Rose is any good at it. She's spent a lot of her life not having to be sorry for her actions because she was the only one really affected by them. That's the tricky thing about getting involved with other people though, isn't it? Suddenly, it's not just her she has to think about. In some ways, she's gotten better about it. In others, she's still just as unsure.

This seems to be one of the later as she browses for a gift. It doesn't need to be grand or romantic, she's sure, but she still needs something. ]

Hey, uh. What kind of gift would you get someone that says 'Sorry I didn't tell you I'm going to die if I go home'? Kind of niche, I know, but- I appreciate any advice.

[ Sure. That's one way to do it. ]

II. Mirror Mirror, On The Wall (Closed to CR)

[ It's not a drastic change by any means.

She's still the same happy-go-lucky blond that most people know and like. There's a smile ready for anyone she's familiar with, a friendly wave, and even a- ]

What's up? It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that, I just... I mean, like, you know. Things get kind of crazy around here.

III. Who's the kindest of them all? (Closed to Vanyel)

[ When he comes home, there's dinner ready for him. That's new. Last he probably checked, Rose had no idea how to cook anything edible. She still doesn't, not really, but she manages to slap together something simple and easy. Candles are lit. There's music playing, too, which is anything new but its soothing and slow to set a comfortable mood.

Not seductive, just- Nice. ] Hey, [ she says, coming to greet him immediately. ] Welcome home. [ It's punctuated with a fleeting kiss, sweet and sincere. This is also new since Rose usually lets him come to her. He's always been the more domestic of the two of them, certainly, so this is all a little... off.

But it's not bad. It's actually likely (hopefully) a good change. That's the whole point, really. Just nice enough to plant a singular seed of doubt somewhere down in him. Doubt that Rose - the actual Rose - is really all that good for him after all. ]

YOU KNOW WHICH

[drehnifusbahi]

[It actually strikes him as something of a role reversal - these are all things he would usually do for her. And while he doesn't mind cooking, or generally being 'the domestic one' between the two of them -after all, he has a great deal more experience in the role- he can't deny this makes a nice change of pace.

His arms wrap around her automatically as he kisses her back, hands settling on her hips. No seduction there either, just Vanyel being his usual touchy-feely self.]

Thank you. [He murmurs once the kiss breaks, letting his forehead rest against hers. Then, playfully] What's the occasion?

[Because while it's certainly nice, it's also just a touch out of character for her, aside from special occasions.]

Mirrored!

[bratpack]

[ The change is subtle enough that Wyatt does not, at first? Realise there's something wrong. That's good, because he's already having a day of it with whatever's happening to everyone. He's his normal self, and for this brief few moments, he thinks she is too.

So he goes in to hug her, relief all over his face. ]

Oh, thank god. You don't even know how right you are, babe. Have you seen Vex today?! I had to get out of the house. He was wearing a goddamn apron last night. And he cooked dinner! I think something's wrong, like seriously wrong. He's gone all, like...domestic! And old timey? He's driving me crazy.

Rafa | OTA (cw: blood drinking, violence, addiction/enslavement)

[mordacita]

i. THE THRALL

---

[ There are three of them already, crouching on the forest floor, and watching while Rafa cradles a fourth. They have similar looks; generally pale, hair ranging from brown to blond, eyes between green and blue, all human or human-enhanced. They're all taller and, by appearances at least, stronger than Rafa, but the grip he holds this newest one in is a vice. ]

No, don't. Please --

[ The voice begs him, just before his teeth slide into his neck. Still his new slave fights him, strains against his hold. He tightens his grip still further, until a delicate wrist bone crunches beneath his fingers, causing a scream to reverberate through the trees. The three watchers don't move; one even licks his lips, anticipating what comes next.

Rafa drinks deep. His skin is already flushed and warm thanks to his exertions with the first three, but the fourth his delicious. He pulls away while the man who'd fought so bravely is beginning to see stars. Rafa turns him around. The man's beautiful blue eyes are hazy now, and there's no more fight in him. Rafa lifts his hand up to his neck, and with the sharp point of the sapphire-set claw ring on his thumb, he cuts into his throat. Then he pulls the man against him, forcing his sloppy lips over the wound. At first there's little movement. Then the man gets his first taste, and instinct takes over, making him draw from Rafa. Rafa groans as blood is taken from him, and smiles as his new slave keeps drinking. They'll have to do this several times before the man becomes a true thrall like the three watchers; but that's all right. They have time. He feels for the man;s wrist, and notes that his blood has healed the fracture already.

Good. He cups the man's head, keeping him close while he drinks. ]

ii. THE THRONE

---

Oh, now. This is much more like it. [ Rafa smiles. He and his entourage stand at the entrance to the Citadel's main room. He looks around, taking in the opulent furnishings, automatically refilling glasses, and elegant decoration. Nodding, he steps further in, towards the fountain feature in the middle. The six thralls follow him, far more focused on him than the room, and alive to his every moment. He speaks softly. ]

Clear the room.

[ The thralls proceed, fanning out to usher people aside and make space for their new King. Rafa nods to the tallest and largest among them, and the man disappears into one of the old Situation Rooms. He brings out a large leather chair and brings it to sit in front of the fountain, with the whole water feature, the soft seating areas, and the statue behind it. Rafa nods approval, and goes to sit. He makes a face humming as he gets comfortable. ]

It is passable.

[ He says, and the thrall breathes again. Rafa leans back, smiling, and reaches to pet the hair of the one who'd brought his new throne. The thrall takes his hand to turn it over and kiss the wrist. Rafa, being a benevolent lord, reaches across to run the claw ring across his vein. He pushes it in, and a thick drop of dark red blood blossoms against his flesh. The thrall bends to it quickly, licking it and then closing his mouth over it. Rafa's eyelids flutter briefly with pleasure, before he turns his smile on the others. They, incidentally, are watching their favoured brother with unconcealed envy. Normally the city would help to fight off the addiction for them. They're lasting longer than Rafa thought they would, but he'll keep topping up their supply all the same. Sighing, he nods to his men. ]

Take your positions. When others come, show them to my throne.

[ They go at once, standing guard at every entrance to the room. ]

iii. CREATE YOUR OWN

---

[ Prompt Rafa! My plotting comment is here, or I'm available on plurk at halfbloodly. ]

ii.

[varou]

( it's not unusual for Hunter to not see Rafa for nearly a whole day. sometimes he's with his friends or Hunter's taking a particularly long run or any other such distraction. they usually meet up again by nightfall to spend the evening at home together, even if neither of them really need any sleep. or much sleep in Hunter's case.

so as Hunter's wandering the city, he's not too worried about Rafa. at least he wasn't.

as he walks, he picks up in conversations others have that something strange has happened at the Citadel. it doesn't sound too much like an attack, so Hunter starts to pass it over, until he hears about an olive skinned man with dark hair. and a throne? what? there's no thrones in the Citadel.

curious about the incident, Hunter makes his way to the Citadel to see what the fuss is about. as soon as he enters the Citadel, he sees Rafa sitting at the center of the room. )

Rafa- ( he barely gets his name out when a thrall approaches him to "take him to their king." what?

Hunter's hand snaps out to grab the thrall by the chin, tilting his face up to look into those hazy eyes that can't stop trying to look at Rafa. Hunter's head snaps to Rafa, eyes wide. ) Thralls? You made thralls?

What is going on here?

I (Up to you where you want this to go)

[shadowmarshalllucask]

[Lucas is silent, almost cautious as he watches two or three humans be turned to thralls or whatever they were called.]

[But who knew what would happen to him if he stepped too far as well]

By then Lucas was already ten steps ahead of himself.

He couldn't stand it, human after human lost but he might be the next one.

ii

[sadico]

[ News of a vampire setting themselves up to be the King of Xistentia was quick to reach his ears. It was curious, as he knew of no vampire in the city that had such aspirations so he went to investigation. Naturally, he thought that this must be a result of the virus, so when he was escorted into the room to take in the sight of Rafa on a makeshift throne he wasn't too shocked.

Still, there had been a part of him that had hoped it wasn't going to be him and a thoughtful frown passed his lips. His eyes fell on the thralls, a normal sight in his kingdom though he had no use for them personally. It was a shame they were all human, though some of them smelled better than the others. ]

My compliments to the decorators. [ He spoke in Italian, as this was clearly Rafa's domain and he decided to be respectful. ] Your majesty? [ He asked, his bow short and his eyes never leaving his dear friend. A dear friend who was note quite himself any longer.

Ignacio instantly began to have regrets for what he'd done. ]

i! BURSTS IN HERE!!!

[pillz]

[kavinsky was running around the woods. it's a new activity he's taken up ever since he was in eudio, mostly because once the clubs are crawling with sentimental affectionate hipsters with an age limit down for 18-year-olds, it doesn't really seem like the edgy badass shit to do. the 'habit' has only gotten greater ever since he was a vampire. you can off-road when you're one of the superpowered undead in ways that you can't when you're a regular human.

he's seen some gnarly shit. dead animals! animals fucking. animals shitting. animals engaged in mysterious behaviors that probably related to the fact that xistentia biology isn't exactly like earth biology. sometimes, he'd catch people doing these diverse activities too.

but he stops now, twigs cracking noisily under his shoes, and stares at rafaello. he kind of also stares at the slew of sexy men sprawled all over the place like they're in some kind of hella gay smutty music video about a vampire sex cult. his eyebrows go way up on his face. he recognizes the glazed look on their faces.] Mom, [he says.] You tripping? The fuck is going on? If there's something contagious about Iggy's sperm, I kind of need to know.

[ ii ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Well. You don't see that everyday. Loki eyes the thralls with pointed disgust. He's had indentured servants before but they were a little more . . . animated. Barton could attest to that. Loki never saw the point of stripping away a person's free will. He's not so dull that he cannot handle a person's whims and desires. ]

Not too shabby, I suppose.

Marcus Wright (OTA: Violence, other stuff)

[anewhero]

1: Helping out

I. [ Marcus couldn't say much about the truth bomb, but he wanted to help like everyone else here. He was busy helping to lift some of the heavier items that fell.]

"You need some help with that?"

II: The man in the mirror (OTA/Closed to Tony Stark)

[ Marcus couldn't piece it together today, something about him was different. Something disgusting that he couldn't rid of... Skynet, but he got rid of the terminator side of him a long time ago..

Right?

Sooner than later, he found himself having a headache in small spurts and he was wearing old clothing that he thought he'd never wear again. He gritted his teeth as he fought the urge off to act like the terminator he was supposed to be.]

Except today was one of the days he was supposed to visit Tony.

"Hey Ton- AGH!" "Damn it.."

Marcus's eyes turned red and he stared like he was emotionless.

[servomotor]

[Tony looks terrible. It's what happens when you lose a woman you love twice inside of a year. It doesn't help that they're broadly being asked to act out some kind of Hallmark card scenario. He opens the door, looking terrible, and sees Marcus looking—

--well. Something.]

Hey, Mark, [he says, cheerily starting to backpedal several steps and motion for his daemon to come over.] Mark, you're looking. Sinister.

kurt wagner [nightcrawler] ❧ ota (+ one closed prompt)

[shadowblends]

we don't deal with outsiders very well; (good samaritan)

[rebuilding bridges isn't a hard task for someone like kurt.

he's always been friendly, easy to please and ready to lend a hand where necessary, even if it means extending his reach to those he hasn't met yet. his first good intention is actually helping a small child rescue their alien puppy-- a large slobbering thing with two heads that thanks him by practically licking him to death.

an ear scratch for the dog and some affectionate headpats for the youngling then kurt sends them on their way, smiling wide while waving after the pair before heading off for more assistance.

perhaps, you're the second person he helps, reaching out for whomever's arm and pulling them out of the way just as a hovercraft goes zipping past.] Careful, [he warns, warm and genuine, lips quirked as he gestures down the road.] Just like everywhere else, no one watches where they're driving.

[or the third that he approaches, offering some extra limbs to help carry things you seem overflowing with.] Maybe I can give you a hand? [but also a tail, since he has the appendage and all.]

they say newcomers have a certain smell; (mirrored)

[overnight is when the change happens for him. he wakes as usual, rising from his bed and approaching the upright mirror a few feet away. for a long moment, nightcrawler stands there, examining his disheveled appearance and mussed hair before wrinkling his nose with disgust. this is what he's been okay with? yes, well, there are some changes coming, which start with his wardrobe and hair.

he steps out in all black, hair trimmed, slicked back on top of his head and entirely one color. no more fun, whimsical blue or anything that represents his past personality at all. his shoulders are rolled back, spine ramrod straight as he goes down the sidewalk, silently observing other people that have been affected by the change.

it's amusing in a way; the drastic difference that perky, uplifted people experience and vice-versa. he can't resist smirking, his mirth blatant with the expression at how things are dissolving around them.

he turns back around, side-stepping quickly to avoid brushing shoulders with someone he passes by.] Excuse you, [he snips irritably, eyes narrowing.] There's more than enough room to walk, so step back.

you have trust issues, not to mention; (closed to kavinsky)

[a picnic on the citadel is what they'd decided for a first date. how unfortunate that it's not the kurt kavinsky knows, though.

he waits atop the building, the edges of his feet teasing near the precipice as he paces back and forth across the narrow concrete bit. both hands tucked loosely into his pockets, his tail sways to and fro, crimson-colored eyes focusing on the sky above because it's not like he needs to watch where he's going when he can teleport somewhere safe should his balance waver. except, that isn't likely, considering his circus upbringing. there's little fear when one can walk a tightrope with a blindfold or swing from trapeze bars like nothing.

approaching footsteps catch his attention and he promptly pirouettes to face kavinsky, the chains of his outfit swinging out, loose curls tumbling across the right side of his face as he presents joseph with probably the most deranged looking smile he's ever seen on the blue boy.]

Hi, [he greets, teetering back and forth on his feet.] I'm surprised with you, Joseph. You aren't even that late.

they say they can smell your intentions; (damage control)

[kurt's never felt so ashamed in his life. there hasn't ever been a time where he'd treated people the way he had while under the influence of ... whatever had taken hold some time ago. he hates everything he's done, the way he acted toward people he cared about, how he cut down others that he didn't even know without a single care. hell, he's even unsure of what his mirror self has done to his self-image, leaving him in this twisted place of doubt and dissatisfaction with himself.

but most of all, he despises how he came off to a handful of xistentia's human residents. whatever he can do to apologize, he does it, then immediately goes back home, tucking himself away with his books, plants, cooking-- anything that's not interacting with someone he might have offended right now.

any visitors will be welcome, of course, though he'll be hesitant to answer the door, despite who comes knocking. (or not?)]

after all i've said, please don't forget; (wildcard)

[ooc: lay something of your own on me! plotting post here or you can hit me up on plurk at totalfruitcup!]

mirror

[sadico]

[ Ignacio knew how to avoid people as he walked, but he chose not to. The way he strode was done with purpose, confidence, and if someone decided to get in his way then the folly was on them.

It just so happened it was his shoulder that Kurt nearly ran into. Seeing a familiar face, Ignacio halted and a slow smirk spread on his lips at the boy's apparent newfound attitude. ]

Forgive me, [ he said in German, the tone of his voice playful. ] Should I bow when I obey you as well? [ He said that but he didn't do as he was told - he didn't step back. ]

Mirrored

[bratpack]

[ Wyatt stops in his tracks, at first surprised to be told off, and the. All the more surprised that it's Kurt. His eyebrows shoot up as he takes in the mutant's new look. It's definitely different. Wyatt wouldn't say better, but he'd liked Kurt's messier look. It had matched his own. ]

Sorry, man. [ He saysc about the whole brushing shoulders thing that's apparently a fucking criminal act today. ] hey, nice look. I barely recognised you. What's the occasion, job interview?

[ Wyatt stuffs his hands into the frayed pockets of his jean shorts. He is at least wearing a t-shirt today, but it's too big for him, and features the occasional tear. ]

[ mirror ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ What. Loki stares at him. ]

Step back?

[ He even repeats it. Loki's not usually one to stumble over his words. ]

meeeee

[pillz]

[maybe kavinsky was late because it's cool and he doesn't care.

or maybe he was late because he hasn't been on a date for a year, and when he went on a date before it was with a girl, which was-- different, somehow. more okay. maybe he's been thinking about how, despite that being with a girl is different from being with a boy, kurt is a lot like how bliss was. good, kind, brave, generous, diligent, thoughtful. better than he deserves. he does have an odd habit of going after people like that, you know. they're always out of his league, except that he's pretty hot.

it took him the whole week to plan out the fucking picnic basket, and in the end, there's as much alcohol in there as kebabs and chips. he'd done a lot of thinking about what he'd say if kurt laughed at him. that the pieces and the crumbs would fall on people and it'd be funny. it's not a big deal, he told himself. it's not a big fucking deal. it's not a

he stares at kurt. his face. then his exposed tummy, the chains sliding over his narrow chest. then his face again. the wind blows against kavinsky's vampire skin, but that isn't why goosebumps break out over his spine.]

What, [he says.] I'm-- sure. Cool. Cool outfit, man. What are you, studying the fucking BDSM now? [he keeps his voice light, putting the basket down.]

Ignacio | ota

[sadico]

It was so simple.

Infiltration was a breeze when you could become mist, technology nothing against a payload that laughably easy to install. The results were interesting, definitely not what Ignacio would have planned himself but D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. was allowed to conduct themselves how they wished, so long as they didn't get in his way.

for loki

The message brief, but succinct given their past conversation.

Ignacio stood at the beach, wearing clothes that didn't present the image of 'evil mastermind' whatsoever. He appeared to be casual, relaxed, his eyes on the crashing waves with his hands loosely in his pockets. While he appeared peaceful his mind was alive with thoughts, plotting his next step in his dastardly journey for what he wanted.

open to all

Ignacio wouldn't be difficult to find. If you want a particular scene with him let me know, otherwise feel free to create your own starter!

Text; daemon: hunterd. Late on the first night.

[bratpack]

[ Man, this text is a lot harder to send than it ought to be. That's not good. ]

iggy, it's wyatt. listen i can't come over tonight, i'm real sorry. something's going on
i'll text you, ok?

[dothelokimotion]

[ For the first time in a while, Loki comes dressed in his armor. He's not fool and he knows how to handle himself in unsavory deals. This is nothing new and it is best to keep all options open. He still has many tools left to him. ]

An odd location for a discussion.

[vexy]

open to all

Not feeling as social as he used to be, but in desperate need of a change of wardrobe, Vex put on the most modest clothing he owned, then threw one of Wyatt's pull-overs over that, then stuck a hat over his wild hair to make haste to the city. Once there he found a barber to take care of the mess on his face and head, a shave and a good proper trim and taming of those dreadful curls, and asked for the directions of a good tailor.

Once he was in a proper suit and tie, paired with polished shoes, Vex felt ready to face the world again. As he walked he nodded politely and was certain to leave plenty of space for others to pass him and the bags he carried. They were filled with clothes, fruit and vegetables and other essentials for a healthy diet. He planned to do a lot of cooking today to set up meals for the rest of the week, since that was the most efficient way! It left more time for his writing.

He admired the scenery as he strolled, taken by the beauty of nature merged with technology, his heart big with pride of how the residents here had overcome so much adversity to form a community. It was unfortunate he was so shy, he would love to socialize more but he knew he could be counted on when he was really needed- whenever D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. dared to rear it's ugly presence!

Close CR: Oh dear, he really ought to be more social though. So, if you're a friend of Vex's, don't be surprised if he sends you the grammatically correct text invitation of: Would you care to have lunch with me today?

Wyatt: And if you're his boyfriend, well, prepare to have a meal tonight! Vex would be in the kitchen, apron on, roast in the oven, yorkshires cooling and vegetables being chopped for a proper English dinner.

text » daemon: loved

[moshennik]

Unchaperoned? I'm not sure how proper that would be.

[ Because he's not the only one who's full of... whatever it is doing this.]

for barclay

[moshennik]

[ Kenzi woke up feeling different. Of course, she still woke up long after the sun had risen and long after her beau had as well. But when she woke up, she made herself quite busy, slipping out of the house in a large overcoat and tucking her hair into as tasteful of a bun she could manage, trying not to look very mortified.

After hours of being gone, she returns home and changes into something much more appropriate, along with a much less absurd hair do. Her hair was beyond fixing in a single day, so she'd found a wig that would have to do until she could find someone qualified to correct her hair.

When Barclay comes home from whatever it is he's been doing all day, he'll find her packing a bag of her new things, happy to leave behind the ridiculous clothing of her past. She wasn't leaving him, no. She was still very much in love with him. She was simply finding new accommodations so that they would no longer be living in sin, so to speak. It was hardly acceptable for two people to live together who were not married, after all.]

[disbands]

[Barclay clomps in through the bedroom door, the final grains of sand scattering from his boots, his shirt slightly skewed. His coarse blue 'vintage' coat over one arm, because it's finally getting too warm to actually work and wear such a garment; especially now that such a thing as 'sunscreen' has been invented and he doesn't have to worry about burning, otherwise. He still has a bit of a farmer's tan, because he only learned rather recently that that isn't the contemporary 'fashion,' but he's been trying to go more topless lately and...

...and.

What? He stops stock still in the doorway, watching as she lays another frock in her luggage.] Kenzi? [he says. He's trying to guess if this is a sexy roleplay. They've done sexy roleplay before.]

May 26 and up

[ssbardock]

[Bardock was up in the air watching things return to normal. He seemed to be the only rare ones not to be affected by the virus that popped up. He found himself studying others.]

Re: May 26 and up

[ssbardock]

"What the hell even happened here?!" He frowned as he flew across Xistentia to try to observe the setting as it returned to normal.