Event - Lullaby

[apocalypsehowmods]

↬ Main Navigation

Lullaby

➥ For You Never Shut Your Eye

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, supernaturally-induced sleep disorders/somniloquy, needles/injections)

The line between waking and sleep is beginning to blur. People will find themselves sleeping far too much, but it never feels like enough. The music is growing more prevalent and persistent throughout town. The effect is still weaker within the building, but as October wears on, more and more people are affected and ADI staff are more intent than ever to find the source and also figure out how to block the effects. Characters will find themselves conscripted (between Halloween Party preparations) into assisting with building or testing anti-music and sleep devices along or with helping to try to track down the source of the music.

For those helping to build and test devices, there is an R&D lab in the basement levels of ADI that will be available. Devices native staff have been able to devise include:

• Headphones that play different frequencies to try to cancel out the sound of the singing.
  
• An armband that periodically stabs a small needle into the arm with a small dosage of adrenaline.
  
• Headbands set to a constant low vibration.

The efficacy of all of these devices is… questionable, but perhaps others may have their own expertise to lend to the efforts, attempting something on a broader scale than just personal protection devices.

For those helping to track the source of the music, finding it seems to be impossible, but there is a definite pattern that characters will note as the days pass. The epicenters of the music are moving, migrating out of the graveyards and converging on ADI Headquarters. As this goes on, the building will become less and less of a safe haven, the music penetrating its walls and affecting the staff there more heavily. You might find yourself having to help a neighbor who's fallen asleep while working. Or you might not even be able to fully tell they've fallen asleep as they sleepwalk and talk almost like they're actually still conscious. Even those who have never been prone to sleepwalking and talking may find themselves affected and… far more open with what they say when in the unguarded state of semi-unconsciousness.

➥ Till the Sun Is In the Sky

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, death by poisoning, blood, choking, emetophobia, death by crushing)

By the 25th, some people may find waking up to be a challenge in and of itself. But they do manage to wake up. Seemingly. Perhaps the day is much like any other, heading to ADI or out around the city, grabbing coffee and- something is wrong. Something is very wrong. That cup of coffee you just drank had tasted a little different than usual. A touch of almond to it? It hits you that your throat is burning, bile and blood rising up and choking you as you hack and gasp and vomit. Your legs grow weak, you're losing control of everything, falling, dying.

And then you wake up.

Just a nightmare. Just a bizarre and horrible nightmare. You head out and… is this home? You're home! Or maybe… wait, this doesn't seem right. Have you gone somewhere else? Some things might be familiar, memories intertwined and mixing with fantastical elements, some your own, some not. You notice people you recognize, ones who might be as confused as you are. This isn't where they should be and they remember dying, too. Or seeing you die or someone else. It doesn't make sense, but somehow, they remember they had a dream they shared last night. And then something falls from above and nearly crushes you or your partner. Or maybe it does crush them, and you're suddenly looking at a dead body as the world and this nightmare that feels so very real becomes more and more hostile. Maybe something falls on you.

And then you 'wake up.'

➥ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, body horror, detailed description of painful physical transformation, description of the loss and regrowth of teeth, violence, mental status alterations, temporary power-loss, spiders)

Even with people dropping left and right thanks to the odd sleep effect taking hold, ADI staff are hellbent that their Halloween party will not be completely ruined. And on the 28th (a little before the actual holiday), everyone wakes up. Or… seems to. For those trapped in dreams, it will seem very much that they've woken up, the music has stopped, and they can actually carry on. For a few days, it even seems like things are normal. The party on the 31st is a blow-out bash. The entire first floor of ADI HQ has been transformed with decorations. The canteen is serving festive food and has set up a dance floor with holiday-appropriate music playing. Some of the offices feature additional activities, including party games like bobbing for apples in a trough that's been brought in, a guess this gross food booth, and more general party games. For a quieter time, there are also areas set up with board games and card games to play. And for some extra fun spooks a mini-haunted maze has been set up with faux spiders and webs, along with other goofy-looking monster creatures.

It's around 9 PM when the music and lights suddenly cut out. There's nothing for several seconds. Then, a voice begins to sing, filling the halls of ADI. It's a young girl's voice.

"Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

Grandfather will come there, too,
And he will bring the coffin.
Grandmother will come along,
Her tears, they will not soften.
Mama sings the prayer song, then,
And falls down on her knees.
Daddy takes you to the grave,
No one can hear his pleas.

Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

As the last notes of the song fade away, all hell breaks loose. Those who had been wearing particular sorts of costumes, ones that are more monstrous in nature, may find themselves transforming, growing, twisting, shifting. It's not a clean change, but a violent, agonizing one that cracks bones, tears and reshapes muscles and tendons, pushes out teeth to make room for new ones. Those transformed will find themselves compelled to chase, to hunt, to kill anyone they can get their claws, teeth, or other appendages on.

For those who stay themselves, it's not just their transformed friends who pose a danger, but the decorations they've set up, as well. Those fake giant spiders and webs? They're no longer fake. Neither are any of the other demonic little creatures. The goal of everything in ADI and even outside for those who manage to make it out the doors, is to remind you how very, very mortal you are. Those typically possessed of fantastic abilities will find that they have been sapped away. There's no calling on magic or innate abilities. You are mortal and you are going to die like everything mortal does.

In the chaos, characters will catch glimpses of a young girl flitting amongst the chaos, seeming unperturbed by it all. Trying to catch up to her or speak to her is fruitless, but she's there, and she's humming that song from before.

➥ When He Nothing Shines Upon

(cw: supernaturally-induced fatigue/malaise, thanatophobia)

Those who are killed at the party will find themselves waking up wherever they actually fell asleep a few hours or even days ago. If your character was one of the lucky few who somehow managed to escape the effect, you'll notice people waking up all over ADI HQ and elsewhere. There are no signs of damage on the bodies, but those who died in the dreams will find themselves feeling incredibly weak and generally ill for several hours to several days after the experience.

The music has actually stopped, and this time, it would seem you've actually woken up. Depending on how long you were passed out for, that may be a more unpleasant experience for some than others. There's a message posted from a random ADI employee's phone a few days later to the network:

Mr. S was right. This was fun! I'll have to come back next year to play with you. - Ava, the Lullaby Girl

P.S. Sorry for stealing your phone, horsegirl67. But I wanted to say, hi. C:

Unfortunately, there are no further messages and attempts to respond to the message will receive no reply for now.

But... fortunately…? All of the Halloween preparations are still up, and there's a festive party to attend if anyone actually feels keen on trying it in real life. Pam Ruan, the main organizer is bloody-minded about it now and will have her God damn Halloween party, but those who work themselves up to attend out of festive spirit or morbid curiosity will find it a distinctly muted affair that breaks early in the evening.

Happy Halloween, Gloucester!

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Players are welcome to play NPCs for themselves when they are needed in a thread. If you need more information on general behavior for these types of NPCs, please feel free to ask! In general, the information provided in the prompt should be sufficient and you're welcome to make up any details beyond that for your specific scene. The Lullaby Girl (Ava) can be seen throughout character dreams, but they will not be able to interact with her during this event. They will either wake up or simply find that the physics of the dream are warped and she cannot be reached or there's a sheet of glass between her and the character or whatnot.
  
  
• FOR YOU NEVER SHUT YOUR EYE (15-24 October) - Characters are welcome to develop their own devices for attempting to stop the music. Characters will have modern day technology available to them along with a few slightly more advanced electronics and tools. Please do not go too out there. This isn't Tony Stark's array of tools and the like. But characters can create additional devices to test within reason. Some of them may be more or less effective, but with how sporadic the effect is, it might be difficult to tell what's actually working or not. There can also be negative side-effects from devices, if you'd like to play those out. Characters with the appropriate magical charge may also attempt to supernaturally block the music, but this will not be condoned or facilitated by ADI. Characters searching for the source of the music will not be able to find it, just discover that it is moving. For characters who are sleep-talking, they may find themselves unusually honest. They may or may not recall conversations with other characters and all that they told them.
  
  
• TILL THE SUN IS IN THE SKY (25-27 October) - Characters will experience repeated nightmares of dying in a shared dreamscape. They will remember every time that they die in the dreams. Feel free to get as creative and gruesome with this as you would like. These are dreams and fantastical situations that might not actually happen (e.g., a robot showing up and shooting a laser through your character) may occur. Players are welcome to introduce elements of their memories into the nightmares and mix those memories around between characters who might wind up in a dream together. Please ensure all top-levels are appropriately tagged for any and all content warnings. Add content warnings as you go along, if needed. Dying in the dreams will trigger the sense of waking up. This can be a fake wake-up or characters might actually wake for a short while and find others passed out around them.
  
  
• WHEN THE BLAZING SUN IS GONE (28-31 October) - Again, this will be a shared dreamscape where characters will be under the illusion (at first) that all has returned to normal. For those who investigate, everything seems to be real, nothing too off, excepting the night of the Halloween party. Once the Lullaby Girl finishes her song, characters who are dressed in costumes that depict animals or other monstrous creatures may find themselves transformed into their costumes. Transformed characters may gain powers for the duration of this prompt/event related to their monstrous forms without mod approval. Go wild, kill your friends and neighbors, and generally trash everything around you. The decorations that come to life will be attempting to murder all characters, transformed or not. If characters escape into the city, they will find all of the festive decorations out there have come to life and want to kill them, as well. Death is unavoidable for this particular prompt, but it can be something swift and painless or something drawn out and horrible at player discretion. It is the only way to actually wake a character fully. Players also have the option of keeping their characters awake. They will not experience the shared dreamscape and will just be stuck with a lot of unconscious people around them for the duration of this portion of the event.
  
  
• WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES UPON (31 October) - Ava, the Lullaby Girl, cannot be contacted or immediately located, but she will be available in future plots for interactions with characters. There is no immediate information regarding who Mr. S. is. Players may have the general sleep/death malaise last for a minimum of two hours and a maximum of three days. Regular medications for the flu can ameliorate some of the symptoms, but they will ultimately clear up on their own. Characters may wake up in whatever state players would like. Feel free to play out the effects of them having been slumped in a corridor for three days without food or water. It's going to be a bad time all around. Those who attend the real Halloween party will be thanked profusely by Pam and showered with candy. At least they'll get a few HR brownie points?

↬ Main Navigation

Comments

[inutilis]

Oh, no! Not a single justifiable reason I could think of, personally. Cinnamon is truly delightful~!

[ why does he say it with such sarcasm when he actually means it?? who knows, maybe he's just being Uppity. regardless, as soon as his hands are freed... Abel is rubbing at his wrists and flopping to sit wearily in a chair beside her, reaching for one of the mugs and a sandwich without further ado. ]

You know, I'm beginning to wonder about you, Officer Sister. [ great, she has a Nickname, now, ] Are you really affiliated with the church...? You didn't really just pull that habit out of nowhere, did you.

[worthallthis]

"Then I will shoot more of them," Winter says, giving Steven what is probably a scowl despite Steven being unable to see the lower half of his face. He's not shooting Steven. One, he has no orders to do so, and two, the guy is clearly not an actual threat right now. He's not about to just execute a civilian unless somebody makes him. "And if they can find you, they can find me without you. Come on. This is too open."

blazing sun gone/wildcardish

[horrifictie]

[ the night drags on and the party's still going. the havoc at the start has subsided, but monsters still roam the corridors of the ADI. there's no hope of escape, the main doors mysteriously chained up with a steel that won't snap. all anyone can do is try to last the night.

in the dark, a beast with heavy steps stalks. he sniffs hard and looks long, so very hungry. he's already snacked on a few poor chumps, all crying for their momma like she's there to help. no, no. there isn't any escape from the oblivion. he stretches his claws and bears his fangs with hard breath, a werewolf on the prowl for the next meal. ]

[worthallthis]

"Usually to hide. Sometimes because something settled and it made a noise for me to check on patrol. But usually to hide." Winter doesn't have a lot of shame or pride left, at this point. And sometimes you just have to hide from people trying to make conversation, or who might otherwise witness a panic attack or a flashback.

Though yes, technically, he could probably weaponize an electric stapler or the aforementioned mop. "Also, it's good to know where the duct tape is," he adds thoughtfully, then turns away from the battered kitsune and Meredith. "Come on. There are probably people who need rescuing." Or killing. This is going to be terrible for the actual people's morale, he thinks briefly.

[worthallthis]

"I know. And the decorations are less of a problem than the people." Or the... former people. They're not really people anymore, most of them. (He hopes they're not, anyway. It's probably a lot worse to kill people when you still are one.)

He eyes her leg and just how bloody it might be, then says, "You should get behind a door. And some furniture. Or out of the building. The danger seems to be contained to the grounds."

[bloodalwaystells]

"It's similar in a lot of ways, including the fieldwork. Though I'm working in less familiar territory here, it's still close enough to be comfortable and I'm glad to have it."

Granted, he hadn't parted company with Palisade under the best circumstances, but for a long time, he had been good at his job and genuinely enjoyed it.

"The most interesting? Hm. Some of the items we handled required a lot of research and information-gathering. I've always had a good eye for that, putting the pieces together like a puzzle and really understanding what we were working with. The story all the details told." He presses his index finger to his chin as he considers. His own nails are short and neat, trimmed so as not to get in the way of things. Very practical.

"I also appreciated the jobs where I got to travel. Even if I was working, I still got to see other places, and that was a nice benefit."

He chuckles drily. "Not so much here, I suppose. But the stories are there, even if they're the scary sort. There's a way that things fit together."

til the sun is in the sky

[horrifictie]

[ ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - Hear that number tick up? Have you ever conceived the possibility that numbers could go so high? It's not stopping either. Not that you care. You stopped paying attention a long time ago.
(Where am I? What is this hell?)
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - Where are you? Look around.
(I see men in scrubs, their faces covered with masks. They're holding up tools, ready to cut up me up again.)
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - Good, good. But what else?
(I see someone on the gurney table. They're lying down, waiting for the next procedure. It looks like me)
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - How?
(How?)
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - Nevermind. Don't worry your pretty little balding head about it. Go on. Chop off your head, pull out your intestines, gouge out the eyes, and eat your rotten shriveled up liver. It'll taste worst than death, but who cares! Dreams baby. Nothing but beautiful dreams, devoid of... well, you know who. ]

Hey Ciel.

[ he mutters off the greeting in the ADI break room (who else has blue hair?) trudging in with all the focus he can muster. which is to say barely. harry is no stranger to bad dreams, but that one from last night was a doozy even by his standards. he's doing his best to shake it off, even as the false memory of being torn apart by himself continues to haunt the confines of his headspace. ]

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger looks over at Chris, momentarily startled to be addressed, before he catches his footing and gives a small, amiable nod. "I don't know that anyone is sleeping well right now," he says wearily. It comes with a smile, but it's slight and strained, matching the creases around his eyes.

"We seem to have been through...some kind of event, and I think it will take some time to recover. Dreams can be treacherous at the best of times and this...wasn't." He reaches up to run a hand through his short, steely hair, automatically trying to smooth it back into place. Right now, even "presentable" is sort of a stretch, but he's trying.

"...I don't think I've run into you before. Andrew Jaeger."

[septieme]

Right? Right.

[ok mister contrarian]

Thank you for the tea.

[She's giving a small bow and clasping her hands together almost as if in prayer anyway, because unlike him she has MANNERS, but doesn't visibly or audibly proceed to actually utter any. Definitely not exercising religious partaking here, nope...

...

Sip. Mm, not bad.

...

Oh right he's still there and being obnoxious he's saying things,]

You insisted that I attend the Halloween party as a nun, so I did. What more is there to it?

[this is a "strategy" he recognizes, isn't it 🤔]

[musicdied]

Yelena is not unaccustomed to pain. She's not unaccustomed to the way it stretches time and space, twisting them into new and different configurations. That doesn't make it any less unnerving.

She is aware in flashes, between pulses of fire ice and acid in her veins that feel like they're ripping her apart. (Her heartbeat? The machine cycling? She has no idea, isn't sure if it matters.) The roar registers, and the motion. The doctor is suddenly not where he was, and that's probably a good thing, or at least not any worse a thing than his presence as been. She registers ruined fatigues, a man's large frame visible from shoulders down, but her muscles are locked tight in their spasm and she can't turn her head to see his face.

Her throat convulses, and she will not scream, will not scream, will not--

[worthallthis]

He still has his metal arm, at least so he does the only thing his wild, panicked dream-brain can think of: he uses it to smash the machine's control box and wrench the hovering piece up and away. The needles retract, leaving the same bloody marks as there are on his right arm and legs, but the injection is already done, and that's what's causing the pain at this point.

No one's ever come back out of there alive, someone says in his memory. He did. He knows he did, somehow. But what if Yelena doesn't?

He starts yanking at straps, next. He has to get her out.

1/2

[aelwyn_aberration]

Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted. I think I prefer you this way.

[She stands up, not too sudden, not too slowly. Her grip on the gun never loosens but she raises it properly at this point.]

I suppose I'll see you in the next one, darling. But before then, what was my line, again...?

[She looks intently out the window of the interrogation room, where a girl neither of them noticed seems to be singing a lovely lullaby. Ren might not be able to understand it, but Aelwyn can.]

Ah, that's it.

2/2

[aelwyn_aberration]

End of the line, hero.

[She raises her gun against his head.]

This is how your justice ends.

[And pulls the trigger, putting a bullet straight through his skull.]

[septieme]

[This month is really shaping out to be Something, isn't it. No one can claim to be sleeping particularly well these days, maybe it's no wonder why there's often lines at the coffee machine in the break room regardless of the time of day.

And it's where Ciel finds herself this morning, a rare instance when she's opting for coffee instead of tea. She's waiting in line with several native employees ahead of her, and perks up to greet her coworker with almost forced pep at the distraction greeting.]

Good morning, Harry! Are you here for coffee, too?

[cacophonish]

Ninety-five. [ Though, hey, Ren did the math right. Jeff just gave him the wrong number to begin with. But that's enough about the time travel bullshit. He spins Ren, and seems happy enough to keep on dancing-- at least through the song.

But he seems restless, in a way that goes deeper than just bouncing around to the beat of some cheesy pop song. ]

Hey, they got anything besides punch here?

[inutilis]

Oh! Now her manners reappear.

[ don't mind him just petulantly Mumbling things under his breath as he begins setting to work pouring an obscene amount of sugar packets into his tea mug. multi-tasking, mmhm! just like Ciel!! look at that. ]

You realize that isn't an answer, right? And you must also realize by now that I wasn't born yesterday and am beginning to catch on to this whole deflection bit, hm...? Hm? Come now, Officer Sister~! Out with it! Are you with the clergy, back at home?

[forethinking]

(If this is the most beautiful thing Abel's ever seen, this reaction is the cutest thing REN has ever seen!! He can't stop smiling, and really, this is why he likes working with food and beverages so much. Look how happy the man is!!

It just brings people together.)

I hope it tastes just as good.

[sorser]

Better than goo, but marginally. A preferable situation would be not to be in this situation at all, but no time to dwell on that. Stephen pushes himself up to his feet with a scoff.

“I’ve been storing it up, slowly -- for something like this,” comes the admission in regards to magic, and he’d argue it’s more out of practicality than some misguided hubris, but now’s not the time. Winter doesn’t seem to dole out judgment, either way, or he’s just very good at setting it aside.

He raises his hands, scarred and shaking slightly, not from his nerves failing him, but rather from literal nerve damage.

“Hand-to-hand? Doable, but not preferable. Without my training, I’d do better if I had something to defend myself with.”

So yes, it seems like he’s gained a bodyguard.

He’s trying his best

[sorser]

[Is it fine, Tim? When the state of the nightmare has become this, when his portal spinning with little spiders being flung this way and that is the least concerning notion between them? He needs medical attention, and they’re in a hospital to provide it, but this hospital is being close to devoured, and there’s no time—

He follows after, frowning, and there’s a moment when the world is only the colors of the multiverse, the transference between point A and point B stretched out long in this non-reality. As the cosmos whips past them--flying, or floating, their feet touching nothing, everything stretching on for an eternity to maybe leave that void of nothingness behind—he asks what any sorcerer would have the mind to ask.]

Trust issues. With magic, or with me?

[Though in Stephen’s case, the two are inexorably linked.]

[forethinking]

(Just two pretty girls, spinning one another, good for them! Ren laughs, the fact that he lost three entire braincells doing that math long forgotten, but he comes to a halt at the question.)

I think soda-- I'd imagine alcohol?

(Not that he's paying attention.)

cw violence and death

[forethinking]

(Had Ren been truly there, he'd probably recognize it as the line Akechi had told his shadow because shooting it in the head. It probably was gross to see, his head opened against the table.

Here, it's a little different. His head tilts backward explosively from the impact of the bullet, blood dripping from the exit wound and when Ren and Aelwyn open their eyes, they're elsewhere.

Perhaps her own nightmares this time, or a combination of both's.)

just ticking off every neuroticism (cw: brief reference to suicidal ideation)

[ployboy]

[This isn't anything like traveling by Zeta. Tim, for the first time in a very long time, understands none of this. Has no reference point to the ghostish sensation of physically seeing and feeling everything around them. Worlds, again.

Once upon a time, he had devoted his every fiber of being to tracking a Mother Box like a hound tracks its master's steps, had sworn to Kon he hadn't been suicidal to pray the Box worked to beam him to Apokolips. Or New Genesis. That's the only point of reference he can conjure up in such an addled brain: holding that power in his hands in the streets of Paris, only to find the Box too abused to want to open for him.

(Even the stupid box had left him alone.)]

What?

[Crap. Strange had heard. Tim thinks he wants to die, but that's the wooziness of blood loss talking. It's not like he did die in real-life. Ever. So far. He knows this... isn't real. He wants to shake his head but the universe around them is dizzying enough. Tim sighs,] No, it's not you, or magic. I just don't. [Not can't trust, or won't trust. He just doesn't.

But.

If they've got some... down time.] That... thing, back there? The black-- it was Time, wasn't it? [Does Strange know?] Diana wouldn't tell me. I guess-- [it's haunting] I'm still curious. [Sorry.] About that. And don't-- [worry? Tim winces.] Dana's fine. She got better. I don't know what that had to do with-- [anything? Sorry. He's babbling. Jesus.] Are we going to wake up?

warning: some general spooky violence and suffering etc

[stations]

Wow, you're... kind of badass.

( It falls out of his mouth before he can filter it, but you know what? It's fine, he stands by it. )

You're like angry hot Atticus Finch.

( That bit of word vomit was a mistake that he's quick to try and repair. Blame it on the fact that nobody's held his hand in... literal years, maybe. )

I mean- not that. Just normal... Atticus Finch. But not a man, obviously, just a totally attitude-only accent situation that doesn't necessarily —

(F͕o̲̫̻̰̖͔̰r̟̱̱͔͜ ̥̫́ṭ̼͖̫̻͙h͕͚̮͔͎̣̱e ̻̫͕̮̯̙lǫ̥̭̭̺v̗͎͇͖̹̭e̺̭͍̱̥͕̻ ̵̞̟͕̤͎ǫ̳̮̫̱f̧̬̙͔ ͎̪ͅͅG̢͙̦͙̻̗̮ơ̱̫d̠͞,̦̺̀ͅ ̷̗̻̤̱̩̺̹J͇͓̖̳a͎͓̥c̢̟̟̤k̳̼,́ ̵̺̺̯̥̝̱̼n͚͚o̠̖͙̗͔͜ͅw̴͚̝̤̰̟̤̤ ̗͘y̕ou͏'̴̘̝̞r̨̭̪̱͖̰e̩͈̮̦͞ͅ m͇͇a͎̩͙k̩i̟͎̼͈n͏̪̙̠̦̫̬g ̢͇̠͍̻M̵E̫ ̬̻̟͠f̹̩̘e̤̹e̳̘͍̗͖l̦͍̰̟̀ ̭̬͉͘p̀a̮̫̠̩̖͢in̻̝̻̳͜.̺͖̫ͅ ̤̯̗̲̘̙͚S̡̱͚͉̠t̜̀o̮͝p̦̺̞̝̜͔̀ͅ ̜͖̻t͏͕͕͓̠á̪lkin̢͎̰̦͓̩͖̮g̵ͅ,̗̘͡ ̷̦̘̫t͇̤͚͘h̴i̭̭̰s͚͙̹ ͚͉͕̙̘̰ͅș̷͇e͖͍c̺̠̩on̯̘d͚̺͉-̖̹̺̹͎͞ͅh͏̼̖a̘̥͈ͅn͈d̦͓̦̱̻̯ ̷̳̰e̼̗͍̤̟̪ͅm̗͟ͅb̙a̯̳̲̹͉r̩̮̦͍̦̠r̜͈̦̭͎̀a̢͍̼͉̪̹̣̺s̯̥̥̖̪̮͚s͢m͞e̺n͏̻t̲̪̦͓̀ ̫͡i̳͚͙̪s͙͖̥͔͘ ̨̱͓̰j̺̼̱̱u͍̻̠͔̱s̘̬̯͙̝͓t̶̤͔͕͈̼̰̠ ̧̮͍͍͈͍̘ș̢̠̗͖̱̭a̙̞̻̺̤̮͎d̻̤̱ͅ.͍")

Anyway, she's right. Fuck you! You're not getting shit! Maybe I can't do anything about the world, but at least you're not getting the satisfaction out of me. Us. I don't wanna speak for her, she has that under control—

("Y͈̠͘o̱͞u͉̹̪ ̵̘̜k̵̝̩n͎̬̜͙̟̕o̗w̻̮͚̻̩ ҉̤̰͎̘ͅw̹͚̳͇͎̥h̸a̳̮̲͈̫͙t̥?͉̱̮͔͟ ̖̣L̮̱͈̭̳e͈̯̟̠͓t͖͔͎ ̞̣̺̣̤me̸̪ ͇̜̘s̥̻͉̠̹͠a͚̥̮ͅv͔e̷̞̥͔͙̘̫̺ ̨͓͔͖̺͔yo̺̼̤u̙͎̘ ̟͚͞t͏h͙̦̟͚̹e͔̗͍ t͚̞r̗͓ǫų̜̠̥̖b̛̗̦l͏͓͔̫e̙͓̬̹ ̜̱̱̟o̱f̜ ̱͉͈̟t̲̖͙̝͔r͍̫̱̣͝y͇̲͡i͇͎͕̳̮͙̹ng̣̳̕ ̻̠̫͉̗̕t̡̳̯o̤͔͜ ̯̺̬ṛ̥̣̱͕͖̲e̲̖c̩̥̺̼͚̼͢o̲̝̜̘͕v̲̱͇e̥̻̠̗͇͉r̯͍͖̫̗ ̢̭t͈̰̝̤h̖̩͙͈̀ͅi̧͙̳s.͍͈͔ ̨̺̘͔̤H͏̙͕͖̖̻͕͍o̪̯̤̬̝̯̠w̴̲̩̪͓ a̰̤̼͟b̦̠o͏͍̘̪̙̯u̖̺̹̝͓̼̯t̮͉̜̖̗͕̀ ̫̭̭͍̲I̥̳̪͞ ̫̯g̻i͎͓̬̤͓̺̫v͕̳͠è͙͇̮̹ ̢̦̤y̶o̢̮̲̝̖̰̮u̝ a̙̗̘̲̯̹ ̺͔̟l͓̗i̦͓̟̦̳t̯͉̣̱̹̙t̗͎̗l͕e̶̜͕͉͎̮ͅ ̻͉̬̳̪͎ͅṯ̡͎̜̠a҉s͕͈ͅṭ̶̩̝e̟͔̻̟̰͎ ͉̩̝͚o͉̺̫̙̗f͏ ̤̲̹̱̙t̟̗͡h̺̹͙̤̱̦̫é̲͙ͅ ̬͔̳r̻̱̠̠e̟̺s̼̖̬̱̠͘t ̻̬̰o͙͍̱f̖ ̢ý͍͔͔̣͈͙̩o͇͜u͇r̰̝͈͉͚͙ ͚̝e̥̬̜̫͙̞t̩e͎̰̩͔͚r͓̫̣͙̗͍̫ṋ͓it͉̜y͢?̺̪̜ͅ"

And with that, the fog around them begins to change. To heat, to burn, to permeate their skin and their lungs until they're choking, until they can't breathe, until the pain becomes too much to bear.

Until they die. )

cw more drug references

[cacophonish]

[ It's probably more like one pretty girl, and one coked out escapee from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. And he can tell his high's already wearing off-- this shit never lasts long enough-- and Jeff takes a moment to have a mental debate over whether he wants to retreat to the bathroom and do a quick bump from the baggie he's tucked in the waistband of his underwear, or just drink until he can pretend this party's fun again.

Maybe he should just bail and see what the city's streets have to offer. ]

Fuck it. [ Might as well check out the alcohol selection. He tugs Ren with him as he starts to walk off the dance floor-- or, like, what passes for a dance floor at a lame office party. ] Let's get some drinks, dude. I'm thirsty.

[septieme]

[...

it's rude to stare, isn't it? well she's staring anyway, because he's basically making sludge in his mug at this point... wow, what a Godless affront to tea, to tastebuds tbh, but for better or worse, her expression is staying neutral despite how much she's secretly judging...]

Goodness. Why are you so insistent on such pointless things? What would someone like me even do at the church? Do I really look like I have that much free time to you?

[...sips mug, and grabs herself another piece of sandwich,]