apocalypsehowcomm | Event

Entry tags:

Event - For Sport

For Sport

➥ Breaking It In

(cw: mentions of apparent mutilation of/violence against animals and animal death)

The conference room on the upper floors of ADI HQ is bright, airy, perhaps unnaturally so for the grim tidings that bring people here today. Those who have recently arrived will be ushered to the meeting by ADI employees or by Bonnie. It's not just the newest arrivals, but some other people who seem to be longer-term employees. The room is rather large and arranged like a lecture hall. Bonnie takes up a seat near the back, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but smiling at anyone who greets her.

At 9 AM sharp, a person steps into the room and heads to the front. They have curly hair and are wearing a gray business suit with a dark blue bow-tie. When they address the group at large, they speak in a calm, measured tone. "Good morning. I appreciate some of you may be here more reluctantly than others, but… there are matters of import to all of us to discuss. Some of you may have seen me already. I am Reyes Amador, assistant to Ms. Lehrer, the head of ADI. Earlier this week I sent out a message regarding some unusual activity at Coffin Beach. Thank you to those who investigated."

Their eyes seem to find the people who did, in fact, go looking, whether they found something or not.

"We have determined the creatures are shape-shifters. Some sort of, em... horse thing. In lieu of a term they might give themselves, we are referring to them as kelpies. Given the locations these were found, as well as other information into disappearances and deaths and mutilations of sea mammals in the area, we believe the kelpies are coming from the Essex Bay area to the north.

"For those willing to assist, we are mounting a reconnaissance mission. This is not intended to engage kelpies, just to find out where they are and how we might best approach an attack. All supplies, transportation, and monetary compensation will be provided. We will meet at ADI HQ in main lobby at 6 PM three days from now. Essex Bay is a remote site and conservation area, accessible only by boat, and not without a scientific permit. As you may guess, we will be traveling under cover of nightfall." Reyes smiles.

"I will be accepting questions about further details. I understand this is the first mission away for many of you, and you may have concerns. I will do my best to allay them. Bonnie also has some experience in these missions, if you would like first-hand accounts. Please also feel free to discuss amongst yourselves if this is a mission you think you are ready for. You will not be required to attend, nor penalized in any way if you do not. There is additional work to be done here, both with continuing examinations of the bodies we have and other efforts unrelated."

➥ Move the Goalposts

(cw: kidnapping, violence, sadism)

It happens away from the safety of ADI HQ one evening or so early in the morning, it's still dark, away from the potential for help, maybe. One moment, you (and possibly someone you're with) are walking, and the next, you will find someone has grabbed you and slammed you into the nearest surface. For those unable to fight back, a cloth will be held to their noses and mouths--chloroform, something to knock them out. For those able to fight or even to escape thanks to not actually being corporeal, they'll find that it is a trio of people who have attacked them. They wear jagged smiles and they're all much too sharp around the edges beneath their clothes. Those who saw the kelpies at Coffin Beach may recognize these people as something like them.

"Run, rabbit, run," one of the group says, voice rolling out like a gurgling tide.

Those who run will be chased and, if caught, chloroformed. Perhaps you're lucky, though. Perhaps you can race them back to safety. Or perhaps you'll find help along the way to protect you. Either way, the kelpies are relentless in their pursuit unless one of their number is injured or their prey can make it to ADI. The kelpies seem reluctant to actually enter ADI HQ or their housing, and will break off pursuit there, slinking back to the shadows.

➥ Curveball

(cw: kidnapping, violence/violence and mutilation against apparent animals, sadism, body horror, transformation, potential for claustrophobia)

For those unlucky enough to be caught, they'll find themselves waking amongst mud and bodies. Living, breathing bodies, thankfully. You have been tied up, but not gagged, and left with a group of other captives. A nearby fire casts light over everything, showing a large group of naked people with long, scraggly hair hauling a seal up out of the water. The animal fights them with a cunning that might seem odd, but the kelpies just laugh at it. They get it up near the fire, one raises a knife, and stabs into the seal, dragging the blade down its belly.

The seal bellows and then goes limp, seeming to collapse in on itself. It isn't long before a woman is drawn from the skin, shaking, fighting, wild-eyed with terror as her captors shove her around the fire in their own game. A few others turn their attention to the captives who are just beginning to wake and move about. They approach, one grabbing the skin the woman had come out of, others grabbing more skins from a nearby pile.

"Hush, hush... you'll have your freedom soon... while you can swim." The words come just before the kelpie slices your bonds and throws the skin over you.

The skin grapples your body, twisting tight around you, encasing and restraining. Your body is different now, thick and round, ungainly in the mud. Your legs have fused together and your arms have shrunk to thin flippers. This is not your body, you can feel how foreign it is, how you're crammed into the too-small confines of it... but you have instincts to go with it. Water is freedom! Or it's an attempt at freedom. It's either swim for your lives as some mockery of a selkie or stay and see how it feels to be cut open. Luckily for you, you'll find yourself psychically linked to the other selkies around you. Maybe you can do something together? Best think fast because the kelpies are setting their sights on new prey to chase once they've finished with their latest victim.

➥ Below the Belt

(cw: violence/violence and mutilation against apparent animals, body horror, gore)

The journey to Essex Bay isn't a long one, but it's somewhat treacherous as a small group of powerboats make their way into the refuge. The mission is simple: find where the kelpies are and see if there are any strategic points of-

Was that a seal? There are, in fact, many seals that pop up once boats enter the bay. The animals might seem to have an unusual cunning about them. Will they lead you somewhere useful? Perhaps try to flop themselves into your boats? The point is, there are seals accosting you in the middle of the night, and that's weird. Perhaps they have something they want to communicate.

Or was that a horse? A crocodile? There's something that seems to have noticed you, and it's smart enough that it's going to try to tip you and anyone else in your boat into the water rather than trying to engage otherwise. Sit down, you'll rock the boat.

➥ Sticky Wicket

(cw: potential for severe burns/injury, pain)

ADI is engaged in far more than one mission at a time, and for those not dealing with Essex Bay, or even before that, there are pick-ups to handle. Artifacts, you've been told as you're paired with someone else, whether you like it or not. The mission is simple: go to the Docks, collect a package from a locker there, and return with it to ADI. You've been provided an exact location and a code for the combination lock. The section of the Docks you've entered seems to be one with a lot of empty warehouses covered in graffiti, but the locker is there, something heavily reinforced and designed to be virtually impossible to get into. There's evidence that people have tried to gain entry without success.

Your code works, though, and you have your prize! You've been given strict instructions not to open the box the artifact is in… but there's nothing technically stopping you now, and there is a strange pull toward it.

Those who can't help themselves will find they have just picked up… some piece of sports gear! It looks wholly innocuous. Touch even a finger to it, though, and a horrific, searing pain will consume your entire body as 3rd-degree burns bloom across the skin where you've touched your artifact.

Or maybe you have a will of iron and sense enough not to touch strange, supernatural objects. What should be an easy mission is quickly derailed by some young punk darting out of an alleyway to try to steal your package. Or, at the very least, knock it from your hands. The youth is not alone, either. You've found yourself on someone's 'turf,' and they want what you've got. Are you cruel enough to let them have it?

➥ Mod Notes

BREAKING IT IN (21 July): Both Reyes and Bonnie will be available to answer questions that characters might have or listen to their complaints. Please put "NPC Requested" somewhere in your top-level response if you would like a mod response. For characters who can access their supernatural abilities and have some measure of supernatural spidey sense, both Bonnie and Reyes will register as off, but in different ways. Characters are welcome to attempt to use whatever powers they believe will work on the NPCs. There are potential IC consequences for this.
MOVE THE GOALPOSTS (23-24 July): Characters are welcome to capture or kill the kelpies. The only information they will be capable of providing to those who capture them and attempt to compel them for information is that they consider the entirety of the Massachusetts coast as their 'hunting grounds.' Whether that's true or not, it's what they believe.
CURVEBALL (23-24 July): Kidnapped characters will become seals! Sort of. Psychic seals who are extremely ill-fitted to the skins they're in. The only way to escape their current state is to be cut open and pulled out. As soon as they start to flee, the kelpies will chase them. Those who are captured will be cut out, toyed with, and shoved back into a skin again and again to continue the chase until they simply can't go on anymore.
BELOW THE BELT (24 July - night): Characters may encounter their selkie-fied comrades! Unfortunately, while the selkies can communicate with each other psychically, they are incapable of human speech. They are also being actively hunted by the kelpies. Characters may kill any kelpies they come across. Capture will not be possible in this case while they're in their horse forms. If PCs do not eradicate the kelpie threat that night, NPCs who have joined the mission will do so. Unfortunately, reconnaissance has become engagement, whether they like it or not.
STICKY WICKET (21 July - 5 August): You may select any piece of sporting gear you'd like for your character to pick up as long as it can fit in a reasonably-sized box. The pain associated with the burning will last only as long as a character is touching the object. Holding onto it for more than a minute will likely result in coming very close to death. Characters with inorganic appendages will find that the artifact will start to melt that appendage, whatever it is made of and it will still, somehow, hurt while it does it.
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I. BREAKING IT IN (ota)
Conference room, lecture hall, either way, Jeff's clearly not comfortable here. He hangs back, keeping away from the smart, sharp people in suits, slouching in his chair like a bored, sullen student. At a glance, he doesn't seem to be paying attention, just doodles a bunch of abstract nothing in his notebook, periodically rubs his eyes like he's trying to stay awake.

9 AM's fucking early for him, okay.

All affectation aside, he is paying attention. There's a little wince, and a frown, when Reyes mentions the dead and mutilated animals, and he lowers his head and seems to focus in on his doodles, as if that'll keep his mind from conjuring up unwanted mental pictures of the poor, slaughtered creatures.

Kelpies. Fucking shapeshifting horse monsters. Now that's some fairy tale shit. Makes him think about a book his mom used to read him, back when he was little.

"Bring on the headless horses, wherever they may roam..." he sings under his breath, before turning to the person sitting by him and fixing them with a very wide eyed, curious look. "Hey... Can horses swim?" A beat, in which he's clearly thinking on his own question, before adding, "I mean... They've got hooves."

Okay, so maybe he's not the brightest crayon in the shed.

If you're lucky enough not to be sitting next to Jeff, you can still catch him after the meeting for some chit chat. He'll be hanging around for a little bit, looking around curiously, before wandering off in search of coffee and/or donuts. All offices have that shit, right?

II. MOVE THE GOALPOSTS (ota)
It's pure dumb luck that saves Jeff from getting knocked out right out the gate. The denim jacket he picked up from Bonnie's communal stash happens to be two sizes too big, which thank fuck for that, because when his attacker grabs hold of it to yank him back, Jeff slips right out of it and manages to at least get out of arm's reach before he stumbles like a chick in a slasher movie.

Heart racing, Jeff looks up at the scraggly trio, and he knows it's dark, he knows he can't trust what he sees, but fuck, they look sharp and wrong, and he has to close his eyes for a second, like that'll reset the hallucination and he'll look up again and see three regular assholes.

(Ziggy's fucking with his head. No. No, Ziggy isn't fucking with his head. Ziggy isn't fucking here. This is real, this is real, this is--)

He opens his eyes again, and they're so close now, looming over him, looking wrong, wearing jagged smiles that don't belong on human faces. The only reason they haven't grabbed him yet is because it's just a funny game to them.

"Run, rabbit, run."

Well, they don't have to tell him twice. Jeff scrambles to his feet and books it, fast as he can, with no sense of where he's going, and no strategy beyond: RUN INTO SOMEONE WHO CAN HELP HIM.

III. WILDCARD
[ Fling anything at me! If you want to plot something, you can hit me here or on plurk/discord. ]

Edited 2021-07-25 19:47 (UTC)

It was weird enough when he was paired with a talking cat, but now that they're out and about, the cat's a dude. A young dude, several years younger than Jeff, and he can't help but think that the two of them kiiiind of look like they could be brothers.

So Jeff figures he'll just roll with that as a cover story if it comes down to it. They're just brothers, picking up a package for their, uh... dad... Who may or may not be a drug dealer, because what the fuck would they be picking up at a sketchy warehouse over at some totally run-down docks?

Except he never gets a chance to whip out that cover story, because they make it to the warehouse and find the locker without any setbacks-- other than Jeff forgetting the combo and having to put it in twice. It's funny, even with Thackery's human illusion going, Jeff can still picture the totally unimpressed look the cat's probably giving him. They're so good at doing judgmental stare thing; it's probably way more withering than whatever a teenage boy's face (illusory or not) is capable of.

Jeff picks up the box and gives it an experimental shake, like he's a kid on Christmas morning, trying to figure out what the fuck Santa left him.

"What do you think's in here? Like..." His eyes widen in excitement. "What if it's the Holy Grail or something!"

Should he open the box? He's gonna open the box. Annnnd Jeff's disappointment is immediate and obvious.

"A fucking catcher's mitt?"

This has been...something. Thackery can't help but feel that he's clearly been assigned to babysit this young man; there's little other reason to send him, considering he can't carry whatever they're meant to retrieve. And, of course, he is immediately justified in his assumptions and his attitude when Jeff retrieves the package only to immediately open it.

"Probably just a--don't!"

Binx doesn't appear to look into the box, gaze fixed on Jeff as he...kicks him? At least, the illusion moves his foot and something hits Jeff in the shin. "Stay out of that!"

It's hard to say if it's the pull of the artifact, or just a level of dumb recklessness that seems to come naturally to particularly gifted Gifted people, but Jeff's already reaching for the mitt without a second thought. Luckily, that's when Binx smacks into his shin, and it's enough of a distraction that it startles the impulse out of him.

"Hey!" Rude. He closes the box and flashes a grin at his companion. "Chill, dude. Nothing happened. It's not like I just opened Pandora's Box or anything."

...he didn't, right? Jeff scrunches up his nose and looks around, just in case the woes of the world are flying all around them.

"We don't know that," Binx points out darkly, not in the mood to offer what he's sure would be false comfort. "Nothing good comes of magic, not least when we know the powers in this world are evil. Come on, let's get it back and get away from it."

For all his doomsaying, nothing appears to be actually happening re: the catcher's mitt in the box.

Okay, wow, Jeff pins Thackery with a look of pure scandal and offense, as if to say: Hey, I resemble that remark!

It's not that he isn't used to people talking shit about magic. That's all par for the course back home, at least in certain circles of Blanks. But at least back home, he had his people. There was a sense of family and community with the other Gifted youths drifting around LA.

And now he's alone, and the Gift's on some totally different frequency he can't tune in to, no matter how hard he tries, and even Ziggy's disappeared, and Jeff's so terrifyingly, overwhelmingly lonely and empty inside, and--

Jeff hugs the box to his chest as they get to walking, his gaze turned gloomy. Maybe he's feeling a little extra sensitive right now. He's certainly too wrapped up in his hurt feelings to even pay attention to the shady characters lurking ahead, watching the two of them.

"Magic isn't bad." Not even here, no matter what they say. He refuses to believe it. "You're magic, aren't you?"

Edited 2021-08-12 18:43 (UTC)

For his part, Thackery is uneasy, returning the glare and feeling more than a little helpless - if the young man really wants to open that box back up and set off whatever's inside, he'll have a hard time really doing anything about it. He's preoccupied with those thoughts, keeping a closer eye on Jeff than on their surroundings.

"I'm cursed," he corrects Jeff curtly. "I didn't choose this."

"Oh." Well that takes the wind out of his defensive sails. A magical talking cat is cool. But a human cursed to be a magical talking cat? That's majorly fucked up, like some kind of fairytale curse. Jeff's expression softens as he drops some of the tension he'd been carrying. "Sorry, man. I just thought... you were, um, always a cat."

Awkward.

"I wasn't always, but I always will be," mutters Binx darkly. "Now if we could just get this done--"

"What's in the booooox?" interrupts a greasy teenager with a dumb grin, who has probably never even seen Se7en.

( And he happens to run smack into Toji who is actively looking for this kind of thing. He has a grin drawn across his face like his pistol, pointed down at his side. )

Fuck, they're really going for it!

( He moves to the side, putting a hand on Jeff's shoulder to steady him — it's evident he's more focused on the blood about to be shed than the terrified young man by his side. The kelpies draw closer; he laughs and he fires. )

That grin's almost enough to send Jeff running back in the opposite direction, because the dude is way too happy about this. Fleetingly, Jeff considers that his potential rescuer might be one of them, but even in the dark, it clicks with him that he recognizes Toji from Bonnie's. He's not one of those easy-to-forget types.

"Yeah-- yeah, dude, they're..." Hang on, he needs to catch his breath. Fuck, maybe he should quit smoking. Or... maybe he needs to take up jogging so the next time he has to run for his life, he can make a faster getaway.

"Shit!" It's a good thing Toji's keeping him steady, because Jeff would have definitely flailed and ducked for cover at the sound of gunfire. Instead, he claps his hands to his ears, and just sort of ducks back behind the other man. This maaaay be the first time in his entire life he's ever been anywhere near a shootout. "Are they...?"

Dead? Injured? Scattering?

He's going to need more ammo soon.

He hips the pistol again, then pulling out the Inverted Spear of Heaven; if he has to check if those things are dead, he figures it'd be just fine to make sure with a quick stab or five.

"They're not that hard to kill." he goes, and parts from Jeff to go and check the nearest body. Thing looks weird, inhuman, unsettling, "What'd they call these things?"

Then he takes out his phone, snapping a few pictures.

Jeff's brows go up, eyes widening as Toji approaches the fallen kelpies like this is just another regular Tuesday for him. And is that-- does he have a sword? A dagger? No, it's like neither and both. Like a sword and a dagger are fucking each other.

Slowly, he lowers his hands from his ears, though he's going to stay put right where he's standing, half-convinced they're going to pop back up and laugh off the... multiple gunshot wounds. He's still staring at his attackers when Toji asks his question.

"Huh?" Jeff blinks, pulling his gaze up from the bodies. "Oh, um... Kelpies." If the circumstances were different, and they weren't standing in front of three bodies, Jeff might actually be proud of himself for remembering that. Slowly, he takes a few steps closer, peering down at them with a weird sort of queasy feeling brewing in his guts.

"Fuck... They really are dead. Dude, you fucking killed them!" Somehow, he manages to sound startled by the news, even though he was right there when it happened. "I'm gonna puke."

Don't mind Jeff. He's never been this close to a dead body before, let alone three.

"If I hadn't killed 'em, you would be the dead one." he goes, "Or it'd be something worse."

It's obvious to Toji that Jeff hasn't been around such violence or bloodshed or death before; he doesn't feel bad about it, maybe just a little inconvenienced.

"Trashcan over there." he points with his spear helpfully, then sheathes it once more.

Jeff sucks in a shaky breath, and yeah, fuck, Toji's right. It's not like he was ever a track and field kind of guy; they would've caught him eventually. Who knows what they would've done, probably would've toyed with him before yanking his guts out and leaving them splattered all over the sidewalk.

He lets out a sudden, almost hysterical laugh at the thought, then shakes his head. No need for a trashcan, it looks like the urge to puke has subsided for the time being.

"Thanks. For, uh..." Killing these guys? It feels weird to thank someone for killing people-- kelpies, whatever. "For saving me."

Malcolm has avoided one marauding trio already and when he begins to step outside, he sees a man running for his life. Malcolm steps out and grabs his arm, hauling him inside, then bending to pick up the baseball bat he'd had through the handles of the doors to barricade them shut.

He takes a deep breath once the bat is in place, even as there's a loud banging from the creatures trying to get in.

They're in an empty bowling alley, the first building Malcolm was able to get into and also secure as he raced for his own life. He looks at the man he just saved. "Hi."

Each bang has him flinching and moving further away from the door, convinced the kelpies are going to get through. For all he knows, they've got super strength. Did they mention that in the meeting? Fuck, now he wishes he had paid more attention and taken notes.

It takes him a moment to focus and really register his savior-- a slight dude, well dressed, with a youthful face that could be anywhere from 18 to 35. Jeff shoots him a smile, trying to look a lot more relaxed than he feels, but the effect is totally ruined by him jumping at the sound of another slam against the door, followed by gurgling laughter outside.

"Hey." A beat. "Thanks." Another beat, followed by some hopeful optimism! "Um... What're the odds they'll get bored and walk away?"

Edited 2021-07-29 09:30 (UTC)

“It took them about three hours when I ducked in here. You can see the alley on the cctv. But the concession stand is well stocked. Milk duds? Skittles?” he offers.

Three hours. Fuck, these guys really are bloodthirsty. But... on the bright side, that means the bowling alley is like a fucking fortress. There are worse places to wait out a kelpie attack.

Jeff perks up.

"There's Skittles?"

And off he goes, making a beeline for the concession stand. Though he does throw a look over his shoulder back at Malcolm.

"So... You get chased by fairy tale monsters a lot?"

“No,” Malcolm replies, staying nearby but not too close. “Just the human kind: psychopaths, axe murderers, serial killers,” he explains.

Grabbing a bag of candy, he hops up to sit on the concession counter, long legs dangling. Is Malcolm joking, or did Jeff just get rescued by the most interesting dude in town?

"What about cannibals?"

“The closest I came was a guy who pickled his victims’ faces in mason jars, but he didn’t eat them. They were just… souvenirs,” Malcolm tells him.

He considers the younger man for a moment, like he’s assessing him.

“My name’s Malcolm. Malcolm Bright. I’m staying over at ADI.”

Oh gross. Jeff pulls a face before he pops a handful of skittles into his mouth. "So you're like... with the FBI or something?"

And, now that they're doing introductions...

"Jeff." He waves, then holds the bag of candy out in offering. "I'm over at Bonnie's." A beat, then: "What's it like there? With the ADI."

"I used to be with the FBI," Malcolm tells him. "But we... parted company. I've been consulting for Major Crimes at the NYPD more recently."

He waves off the candy.

"It's... weirdly corporate. Like a dystopian novel."

"Whoa." So he's kind of like a detective, right? Someone who can look at a crime scene and piece together a story? He can see how a guy like Malcolm could be a good hire for the ADI. Unlike Jeff, who... well, even if he liked and trusted the organization, wouldn't really have a place there. What's he qualified to do, work at the canteen?

"What do you mean?" It's not that he doesn't know what the word 'dystopian' means, exactly, but... Jeff's never exactly been a star pupil. Or even a middling one. "Like, um. It's like Lord of the Flies with suits?"

Edited (FINALLY DONE EDITING) 2021-08-07 18:36 (UTC)

Event - For Sport

jeff calhoun | oc

STICKY WICKET (closed: Thackery Binx)

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