Event - Aftermath

[apocalypsehowmods]

↬ Main Navigation

Aftermath

➥ Handle With Care

(cw: arachnophobia, entomophobia, chirophobia, elafiphobia)

There is a reason Dogtown has been boarded up. The wicked do not rest and while the majority of ADI's manpower was out of town, those remaining were stretched thin. There simply weren't enough eyes to keep on the park. With too few people, the things that crawl inside crawled out. Most of them have been hunted down and dealt with, but not all. Not nearly all. Though it might not be apparent at first.

The weather is hot and a bit of humidity brings the bugs about. They might all be horrible, but some aren't so bad. Butterflies flit about in the air, their colorful wings offering an aerial show on your walk. Every now and then, however, one or two might catch your eye: there appear to be a few with an odd wing shape that seem to jerk and plunge in their flight. Keep an eye on these odd bugs and you might just finally place the shape: four long, spindly segments. Hands. Interlocked at what would be thumbs, fluttering sets of hands no bigger than the rest of the butterflies flutter about. Some land peacefully, some don't seem to land at all, but just dance about like a perverted wave from no one. Others still, like to land on faces and what a delight it is to be blessed with the gentle legs of a butterfly on your nose as it spreads and stretches its wings! At least until those wings clamp over the eyes under them.

You don't even have to go outside to find things that skitter and hide. Perhaps you've settled down to work on something or read or even check your phone. It'll only take a moment, really, but it has your attention. Enough so that, when you feel a gentle tickle at your neck, you might not even think much of it or reach up to scratch the spot. Except it happens again, slower, more careful; to the point it doesn't tickle, in fact, it feels almost like something is...stroking your neck? Like a tiny hand running along your skin. If you're fast enough, maybe you can brush whatever it is off, or maybe you simply turn your head to look at your shoulder and into the multiple eyes of an eight-legged friend. No, make that six. Six legs and two, long, arms ending in thin-fingered hands.

On the other hand, there are also those things that go bump in the night. Well after sunset, some areas of Gloucester titter with laughter or carry the steady sound of feet hitting the pavement, while some darker corners patter with a rhythmic slapping sound. Following the sound might just lead you through echoing alleyways until you come across the recognizable shape of a deer. A deer whose legs end in hands. Where they start is at the top: curved, gnarled, fingers jut from the top of its head like a perverted crown. Antagonize it or stare too long, and that slapping sound may turn your way, the charging deer aiming for you grasping-fingers-first.

➥ Shipping and Handling

(cw: underwater threats, drowning, refuse/filth, squirmy things, human-caused environmental damage)

Known locally as the Cut, Blynman Canal in southwest Gloucester connects Gloucester Harbor to the Annisquam River. For over a hundred years the Blynman Bridge has spanned that opening, a busy drawbridge that has nonetheless been left to rust. The Cut is a deceptively treacherous little waterway, and it's not unheard of for locals with too much time on their hands to go down to the canalside and watch the boats in the hope of witnessing an entertaining misadventure or two. There's more than one local legend of boats going down in the canal, though no record of it in recent history, and people claim the water is a lot deeper than anyone might expect. But that's not quite why it's caught ADI's attention recently.

No, it's the wretched sobbing from under the bridge at sunset that's new and concerning…and the reports of boats striking something in the canal where there should have been open water. Several owners have reported thumping on the hull of their boats as though they were struck by some furious creature, but the official story is that they simply struck litter and debris that has recently clogged the canal's entrance. It's not a lot to go off of, but with the recent Dogtown troubles, any sudden change at locations of potential significance is worth an investigation.

In daytime it's difficult to see much of anything in the water, and investigators are discouraged from intruding too obviously on the scene during hours when locals are more likely to be present. As the sun sets, though, the water roils and crashes under the bridge for minutes on end. The motion dies down, the water calms, and the lamenting cries begin. There are no words, only broken sobbing in a human voice. Looking into the water in the dying light, one can see something down there, just below the surface now. Is that a face? Did a hand just breach the surface, reaching pitifully skyward before slipping back under?

Anyone who tries to enter the water will feel detritus brush against them, all manner of sunbleached plastic debris clogging the canal. The walls go straight down under the bridge and the water is deep. It won't be long before one finds oneself not just swimming in trash but entangled in it. It drags even the strongest swimmer down, snaring arms and legs. Fight and cut yourself free, hope for a rescue…or await the end.

➥ Say, Say, O Playmate

(cw: hallucination, disorientation, synesthesia, altered mental states, breaking and entering)

There is someone in the mirror. They appear when you're alone. A childish, friendly face, or what you would consider friendly, interesting, someone you would be willing to play a game with… or at least entertain the possibility for. Your new playmate has something to show you. It's something good, and you should follow! Even those who might not usually be inclined, will find themselves drawn in. This playmate seems to be tailor made for you, someone you could get along with. Someone who whispers into your mind and no one but you can see, even if they have their own playmate.

There are too many reflective surfaces in Gloucester, and you'll find your playmate flitting easily between them, like they're stuck in a world beyond the glass. Maybe they are. They might even tell you that's the case. Help them, please! They've been trapped here by some monster for so long.

Those drawn into the chase will find themselves directed to all sorts of places around Gloucester, from publicly open buildings to private residences to other buildings they really shouldn't be going into without a very good reason, like the police station. Maybe try getting in there under the cover of night? Your playmate is insistent that wherever they're leading you, it's important to the trail. And you can feel that they really mean it. This is important, this is vital. It might be harder than usual to say no. Maybe you can make yourself believe this isn't as dangerous as it seems. That's far too easy.

It's a trail that does seem to have an end for those willing to stick it out… and who aren't arrested in the middle of all this for breaking and entering or trespassing. A tiny mirror shard, something no bigger than a fingernail. That's what you've been looking for. Grab it! Grab it! Those unfortunate enough to take their playmate's advice will find themselves experiencing sudden and intense disorientation followed by a 24-hr bout of synesthesia. Ever wondered what gray smells like? What flavor your favorite song is? The color of a burger wafting under your nose? All yours for the price of a mirror shard!

Destroying smashing the shard to even smaller pieces seems to end the disorientation, at least, but synesthesia is something that persists for at least a day after. One thing that becomes immediately apparent, though, as soon as you find the mirror, whatever you do with it, your playmate disappears.

➥ Let's Have a Tea Party

(cw: death; drowning; choking; claustrophobia; nausea; emetophobia/vomiting; disorientation/vertigo; body horror)

It begins with a news headline: Lost Baby Dolls Cry Foul On Beach! The article details strange new visitors to Gloucester's beaches, and the residents making efforts to clean up the dolls along with other debris from recent 4th of July fireworks displays. The leader of the local non-profit, I Love a Clean Gloucester, leading the clean-up is quoted as saying some volunteers have been experiencing some unpleasant side-effects from contact with the dolls, clearly indicating there may be something toxic in them. Paul Rudder encourages everyone to be vigilant to pollution and wear thick gloves when assisting.

But ADI digs deeper. It seems those 'toxic' effects aren't what they first appear. There is something supernatural going on. Two dedicated beach clean-up volunteers have been found dead in their homes, drowned on dry land. The police are puzzled. The lungs of both bodies are filled with seawater.

ADI takes over investigating as a stretch of beach is closed to the public. Perhaps you're brave enough to check on these dolls for yourself. Perhaps you're just here to try to bury the things deep where no one can reach them. Those who pick up the dolls, even those wearing gloves, will feel a strange, rocking sensation that grows more intense the longer they hold and manipulate the dolls.

Regardless of actually touching the dolls, those who visit the beach will find themselves dreaming. They are out at sea, exhausted, struggling to keep afloat, their articulated ball joints ache. They can feel the last of their energy reserves bleeding away, their mouth, something they can never close, filling with water as they sink down, deep, deeper, the weight of the water pressing in around them, constricting their body.

Waking up might just be nauseating or a violently unpleasant affair as you'll find the ground still lurching like you're trapped out at sea for minutes or even more than an hour, or hacking up seawater. Repeated visits to the beach worsens the effect, and if the clean-up volunteers are anything to go by, too much dedication might well be deadly.

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Players are welcome to play background 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 prompts should be sufficient and ordinary people will act like… ordinary people! Although, the people of Gloucester seem to be becoming more and more aware of supernatural phenomenon and they are frightened by it. You're welcome to make up any details beyond that for your specific scene. Also, please remember that character deaths are permanent and plan accordingly!
  
  
• HANDLE WITH CARE (16-20 July) - All creatures can be killed similar to their normal counterparts, but smashing the butterflies or spiders will result in smashed blood, skin, and bone (on whatever instrument you use to smash them with). The deer itself can cause potential harm as it will attempt to gouge, scratch, or even strangle those who threaten it.
  
  
• SHIPPING AND HANDLING (28-31 July) - From above the water it will not be possible to make out the full shape of whatever is in the canal regardless of the quality of light. Anyone who enters the water and keeps their eyes open will get an impression of a long, eel-like creature with a human-like face; it also has many hands on short, jointless arms all down the sides of its body. It is the garbage, not the creature, that drags characters down–the creature also seems to be entangled.
  
  
• SAY, SAY, O PLAYMATE (16-25 July) - Your character's playmate can interact only with your character, no others. But two people might see different playmates in the same reflective surface who could be telling them wildly different things. The playmate is someone who will be specifically tailored to appear as non-threatening and friendly as possible to your character. If that means they're a small scared child claiming to be trapped in the mirror, or an older teen or young adult with a rakish air and charming wink. This is about your character's perceptions, not any consistency. Their appeals to 'play' will also be tailored to your character. They might be requesting help, asking for a favor with the promise of a payback, encouraging some silly game, or whatever might motivate your character. The mirror shards will continue to induce synesthesia and disorientation if they are not destroyed. Any shards brought back to ADI will be examined and then ordered destroyed. The playmates will all disappear when all of the shards have been collected, whether your character has successfully collected one they were on the trail of, or not.
  
  
• LET'S HAVE A TEA PARTY (16-31 July) - Not every doll induces the rocking sensation, but many do. Characters will have a hell of a time trying to pinpoint any source for the dolls. More of them keep washing up, seemingly at random; though, they definitely seem to be coming in batches, and any time a stretch of beach is fully cleaned up, more appear, like something has been watching and waiting to unleash more of the things. Multiple visits to the beach may result in significant lung damage, akin to what you might experience from having partially drowned.
  
  

↬ Main Navigation

Comments

(frozen comment) QUESTIONS

[apocalypsehowmods]

Please respond HERE.

Peter Parker | TASM | ota+closed

[takeitin]

i. Handle with care - ota (cw: arachnophobia, chirophobia)

Oh, what the--

[He almost drops the critter that made its way up his neck to dwell there - there's a weird sense of deja-vu and for a moment he wonders, what would happen if that one bit him? - then pulls it in close to inspect it. Did he see that right, were those... That's, yeah, that's, that's hands.

He stares and his first thought is what Dr. Connors would have said about it. Animals growing human limbs. Maybe he can bring it to the ADI lab, take a look at it under the microscope. Were there bones in there? Did the creature have cell structures, a nervous system, muscle tissue? He keeps moving and cupping his hands, letting it run in circles.]

Do you see that?

[He holds up the... Man-Spider, presenting it to his companion, oblivious to whether it might freak them out or not.]

Look at its tiny hands!


ii. Shipping and handling - closed to Takayuki (cw: underwater threats, drowning, refuse/filth, squirmy things, human-caused environmental damage)

I mean, I'd cry too if I had to haunt this place. Look at this! It's disgusting.

[Peter frowns, squatting down close to the water as the sun sets, watching the polluted water bop and gurgle in front of him. His camera dangles from his neck, a comforting weight, and his fingers drum against the side nervously.]

You think there's anything to these stories? You think there's ghosts or sirens? If I was a siren, I'd be pissed. Or maybe it's activists, trying to draw attention to the state of this place?

[He raises the camera, snapping a couple of pictures of the water, testing out the zoom and lighting in the dying light.]

You know, speaking of which, maybe the local paper will pay for a bunch of these... Would make a good story, don't you think? "Cut the crap in the Cut".


iii. Say, say, oh playmate - ota (cw: death, hallucination, disorientation, synesthesia, altered mental states, breaking and entering)

[It's Gwen and the world stops. It's Gwen and his heart is in turmoil.

When she starts appearing in the reflections he follows them, slowly at first, then more frantically, chasing her for a while before calling out her name and being utterly dumbfounded when she actually answers. And not in a creepy way, just in a her way.]

But... but you're...

["Dead? Uh huh. I guess I am. It's okay, you can say it. Dead. Deadddddddd. Uhhhh creepy." Her hands wiggle in the world's worst imitation of a ghost.]

But-- that's impossible, how...

[She gives him a look and says "Oh, I'm SORRY I can't be in your alternate reality where magic and time travel is real, I guess I'm gonna bring it up with the death police" and he loves her so much his heart is going to burst.]

Where are you?

["Uhh, yeah, can't tell you that. It's like, it's this being dead thing. You know, it comes with a bunch of dumb rules, like being cryptic and UGH, don't even get me started on the whole incorporeal thing, I've been phasing in and out for hours--" and he nods along because uh huh, yeah, that makes sense and he can totally understand what a pain that would be, totally, death is really, they're not very considerate are they --"but I can guide you there. That is... if you can keep up?"]

What, you think I can't? You think you can out-reflect me? Please. [A scoff, and he throws his head back, posturing, clearly up to the challenge.

"It's just, you seem a little under the weather. You know, cloudy with chance of no powers..."]

Not for long. [He's already moving, falling into a light jog, making his way around town. Sometimes he stops just to look at her, reaching out gingerly to run his hand over the surface. Maybe even leaning in as if to steal a kiss. Unfortunately, if someone sees him, it of course makes him look like he's caressing - or making out with - his own reflection like some unhinged Narcissus. Oh well.

She humors him sometimes, smiling brilliantly before ushering him on and after a while he laughs, feeling lighter and more carefree than he has in months.

It's like a game. With her. And it makes him so happy.

Breaking and entering around town is just a bonus. Maybe you'll catch him pulling himself up a fire escape or loitering in front of a store or dodging some guards outside a warehouse. Powers or not, he does have a lot of experience with these things.]


iv. Let's have a Tea Party (cw: death, drowning, choking, claustrophobia, nausea, emetophobia/vomiting, disorientation/vertigo, body horror)

a. Closed to Eve Baird

Okay, that? That may or may not be the creepiest thing I've seen around town. Now I know this place is riddled with evil.

[Peter nudges one of the dolls with his foot, turning it over in the sand. It beams up at him with salt-encrusted lips and algae sticking to its face. After staring at it for a moment he actually turns it back around so it lies face down. Ugh.]

Can you imagine? Working on a ship just being surrounded by these things? I think I'd take my chances with the lifeboat...

b. ota (at Bonnie's/on the street)

[I think I'd take my chances with the lifeboat, he had quipped at Colonel Baird and as always, be careful what you wish for. The nightmare comes, well, at night of course, in all its cold and wet and dreadful finality. Peter comes up gasping and sputtering, spitting out water, tasting salt in his mouth and in the back of his nose.

He flees the flophouse as if it might flood any second now, stumbling out into the street where he paces up and down, trying to calm his racing heart, leaning against a wall and breathing in (how great is breathing??) the cold night air.

After that he retreats to the common room, collapsing in a chair and wrapping himself up in a blanket, looking absolutely miserable as if he really had just been rescued from high sea.]

[natos]

( she hates dolls, these dolls especially, their creepy expressions and supernatural happenings and eve is all the more glad when peter turns the doll back over )

How many did the manifest say there was?

( or an estimate if they didn't have the number. two people had already died and with this many dolls out there? )

ii. also if peter takes a pic of the creature will he become obsessed thinking abt it??? god

[taabou]

If you're looking for a sceptic's opinion, you're asking the wrong guy.

[ Takayuki tosses a pebble up and down in his hand, brows furrowed as he watches the way the water moves. It isn't normal at all, not compared to the way the water runs down the rest of the river. If anything else, the unnatural movement of something in nature freaks him out more than the concept of a ghost-siren-creature... even if he sort of believes in ghost-siren-creatures, truthfully. ]

I'm all for environmental journalism, but can you write as good as you take a picture?

[ One more toss, one more catch in his hand, and then Takayuki swings his arm to try and skip it across the river.

Naturally, the water swallows it down. It almost looks like the kind of whirlpool that makes ships sink to the endless bottom. ]

...what the hell is in there? [ Waste of a pebble... ] How far's your zoom go, Peter?

i.

[worthallthis]

If you aren't careful. It will bite you. Or start screaming. Or probably both.

[Winter has been swatting these things for a while, he knows how the deal goes. And even the harmless-looking ones are still fear-monsters and aren't here to be cute and friendly. He sounds kind of weary when he adds,]

I know they're weird. But. They also really don't like to be trapped.

Cornelius Hickey | The Terror | ota

[friendsfordinner]

shipping and handling - ota!
Despite being a sailor, Hickey cannot swim. This isn't entirely unexpected: he's a sailor from the 1840s, plenty of people in his time couldn't swim, even if they spent their time on boats. But that doesn't change the fact that Hickey absolutely cannot swim. And Hickey also got word from "Jimmy" last event that the way to get things things to notice you, to pay attention, is to feel real fear.

Ergo, Hickey is sitting at the edge of the water, underneath the bridge, looking at the water with a suspicious little frown. He should go in there. He saw a face in the water, that's obviously something. But he doesn't want to drown. But he should go in there, the fear of drowning is part of the point. But he really doesn't want to drown.

The moment he sees someone else, he takes that as a sign. "Oi! Over here. Thought I saw something."

say, say, oh playmate - ota!
It looks like Billy. The thing in the mirror looks like Billy Gibson. But Billy Gibson that's whole, not Billy Gibson as he was when Hickey stabbed him. No lead poisoning here. Just the lithe, skinny, man he...Hickey is hesitant to say loved. Trusted? Enjoyed? What they were doesn't matter. What matters is that this is his Billy.

Come on, Cornelius, Billy says, from a windowpane, as Hickey examines the back entrance of a small grocery store. You saw how that woman did it back in the hotel. Just jam something flat in there and help pop it open. You'll want to come inside. It's not going to want to see you if you don't.

So don't mind Hickey who's hanging out in an alleyway, at the back of a grocery store, very obviously doing some breaking and entering.

[canofmanji]

The good news is that Manji knows how to swim. The bad news is he hasn't tried to swim since he lost his left arm. Still, that doesn't stop the one eye, one arm man from coming over when called. Intrigued by what this 'something' could be. "Oh yeah? What sort of something-something?"

Say, Say, oh Playmate

[bindlestifflost]

When he's off work, George is often places a lot of folks don't like to go, forming his own small but growing network of the down and out, sometimes just to shoot the shit with, sometimes to ask questions, sometimes to help in little ways that don't leave them too untrusting of him or make them view him as some sort of case worker.

It's why he's cutting through the alley on his way to see Albert when he spots Hickey. His brows draw in and down. He hurries the rest of the way. "Hey. What you doin'? If you need something from the store, they's some still open on Main." It's just...odd. It's not that he feels like he knows him well. He hasn't yet given him any reason to think he's a thief.

Cortana | Halo | OTA

[failedpromise]

Handle With Care

(Cortana was starting to feel up to the occasional excursion. Cortana was also starting to feel really tired of being cooped up with little to do other than watch tv or think.

Thus, though Cortana was definitely not up to field work, she did happen to be enjoying some time outside where certain critters that escaped Dogtown could get to her ...such as the hand-butterfly that had just drifted down to land on her nose.

Huh. That's odd... And then its wings clamp down over her eyes.)

Ack! (With a startled yelp, Cortana falls off the bench she was resting on, flailing and trying to swat the unexpected attacker away.)

Say, Say, O Playmate prompt 1

(Cortana would have been one of the first to warn other people that they were just seeing things if she caught them chasing after a reflection, so one might think that she'd know better herself. But then she saw him and all she could do was freeze and stare, disbelieving.)

...Chief?

(Cortana he says, and with just that he has her. He leads her and she follows as best she can, until suddenly there's a fence in the way and she can't follow anymore.)

Chief? Chief! (She begins to search frantically for a way over, pacing like a trapped animal.)

Say, Say, O Playmate prompt 2

(Cortana is nothing if not determined. Eventually, despite all the obstacles (and also despite anyone else who tries to stop her) she will get to where the Chief is trying to lead her-an empty house in the process of being sold-and find that little shard of mirror, only for the Chief to disappear entirely. The world shifts, and she is alone, disoriented... and utterly bereft.

She's still standing there when someone sees the broken window and comes to check out what's going on. She doesn't notice how hard she's gripping the mirror shard, or that blood is dripping from her hand.)

playmate 2

[taabou]

[ On the way over to the broken window, having answered someone's call for help, part of Takayuki wonders why he's such a sucker. But as he approaches the house, he scratches lightly at his chin, the frightened person following him all the while. ]

Hey, someone in there?

[ No answer. He frowns, coming closer, and standing in the shadows of the house in late afternoon is... a woman of sorts.

A woman who's bleeding. The puddle by her feet grows larger slowly with every drop of red that falls. ] Ah...

[ He turns back, telling the person following him that he's got it under control. And then, vaulting through the broken window easily, his sneakers land with nearly no sound on the floor. ]

Hey, miss? [ Takayuki holds both hands up in a show of peace. No weapons here, no ma'am. ] Miss, do you hear me?

Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son | OTA

[abrightboy]

Say, Say O Playmate

Malcolm, come on! Bet you can't catch me! A girlish giggle and he huffs a laugh and runs after her. It doesn't occur to him to consider why he's an adult and she's a child. He knows this game. He's played it with his sister many times.

"Wait, Ainsley!" he laughs. "Wait for me!"

Her blonde pigtails disappear from the window on this side of the building, and she appears in the next as he rounds the corner.

"Where are we going?" he asks. "We can't go too far; we'll get in trouble!"

"I want to show you something; don't be a chicken!" little Ainsley tells him, skipping along the front of the building, window to window.

Let's Have a Tea Party

Malcolm has enough social grace not to say it outloud, but the bodies turning up in their homes with salt water in their lungs? He lets out a breath he's been holding for months. Finally.

He's going to investigate the crime scenes and then the beach. He'll be happy for any company that shows up on his way.

Let's Have a Tea Party

[bindlestifflost]

George is on his way into headquarters after a morning on the fence, still dressed in his ballcap and work coveralls. His gloves are tucked into his back pocket. He runs almost headfirst into Malcolm on his way out looking like a man on a mission.

"Hey, Mal. You's in an awful big hurry. Somethin' going on? Anything I can help with?"

Say, Say, O Playmate

[citizendetective]

"Malcolm?" Misty asks as he brushes past her, intent on following... well, something that she clearly can't see, because try as she might, those windows look like plain old windows to her. Still, this is interesting, and so she follows.

"Excuse me! Would you stop for a second and explain what's going on?"

Let's Have a Tea Party

[bossyboiler]

"So, you're going to help me be a better investigator?" Like an alligator wearing a vest, Kate is tagging along with Malcolm. "How do you hope to accomplish that?" It will be an easy job, her skills in investigations are lackluster to say the best.

Let's Have a Tea Party

[conning]

Neal is getting used to nightmares. Or at least, he thought he was. This one is different. He's had a couple of versions of it while helping clean up the beach, but not like this. Not so intense. Not so hopelessly terrifying.

He wakes up curled up with Malcolm, but he doesn't feel awake. The world is still see-sawing around him, still crushing in on him, and he sits up enough to cover his mouth with both hands to keep from throwing up on his bedmate. Except it's not vomit--it's seawater. He can taste the bile-sharp salt of it as he hacks it into his mouth, and he instinctively spits the liquid out onto the sheets.

He turns away from Malcolm as he heaves again, another mouthful of seawater splattering onto the bed. This one at least on Neal's side.

Aelwyn Abernant | Fantasy High

[aelwyn_aberration]

1A. HANDLE WITH CARE (let it burn)

[She watches the butterflies with a perpetual scowl on her face. Her mood has soured over recent months, everything's been a blur of nonstop nightmares, and all she's gotten out of it was one stupid book Jeff stole from her. (Before he disappeared with his own prize, a problem to be dealt with later.)

They'd come out here to investigate and contain them, but frankly Aelwyn has better ideas. It's a good thing she's been keeping up to date with her feeding schedule, largely in burning cars and terrorizing academics, ruining the odd loving relationship with a fiery distraction, burning bright like a flare.

It's not enough. Not forever. She's teetering on the brink. But first.]

Are butterflies flammable? Yes, right? [The more important question is if her investigation partner will object to a small bit of magic.]

1A. HANDLE WITH EVEN LESS CARE (catch it and kill it)

[They'd been out here investigating sightings of a truly horrifying deer, and from the vague reports, she can only assume it's connected to the swarm of butterflies she lit on fire and killed. Dogtown is proving, once again, to be far more trouble than it's worth, even sealed up and confined.

She remembers, distantly, a conversation she had with Nia, all those months ago.
"Imagined terror is still terror ... An animal won't understand why it's being fed upon ... Shouldn't be using magic at all." The deer stares at her and her partner, alert, it's fingers dragging through the dust.

There's something vicious inside of her now, in the wake of all the friends she made and lost, the feeling of the liquid nitrogen in her eye that she could have blocked if she were given even the slightest bit of leeway.

Is it dangerous? Does she care?

Donna brought up a similar case, of the boars with arms, a comical and ridiculous monster that may have once been a person. This, too, might have once been a person. She might as well put it out of it's misery.

Silently, she reaches for the pistol she keeps on her person nearly at all times nowadays.]

I can handle this, if you want. I might need your help carrying the corpse.

2. PLAYMATE O PLAYMATE (i need somebody to remember my name)

[Aelwyn has been staring at her reflection in the public kitchen for about fifteen minutes. What she's seeing is a boy that she recognizes. A boy that she's pretty sure she would be the only one remaining to recognize. Not Mirabel who had friends, roommates, family around, or Keith, who was well known among the people from the older days. No, just the kid so lonely that he'd reached out over the network asking anyone to be his friend.

And he vanished a month later, and she's still not sure where he went. Where any of them went. It's an awful feeling in her chest. Guilt. A familiar sting. Resentment. More familiar than anything.

The reflection is calling on her to believe it. Is calling on her to trust it. It's not an uncommon trick for this place, and she's experienced enough at this point to know to never trust what her mind tells her to.

So she speaks up, to whoever's nearby.]

Can you see it? The boy in the mirror? [Her voice is tired and weighted, guilty and hurt, and more than anything, she's furious.]

2

[taabou]

The... huh?

[ Takayuki's gaze follows hers, though, and he goes quiet at the sight of absolutely nothing. "The boy in the mirror"? ]

...sorry, no. [ He turns to her again, cup of unopened ramen in hand and no attempts made to get some hot water in there. ] What boy?

1A

[the_archivist]

[Well, that's... horrifying. A twisted mockery of a deer. Close enough that you think it is one and then the wrongness creeps in at the corners of your eyes. The thing that was not a deer looks at them, fingers dragged in the dirt.

Jon wants to examine it more closely. He also would rather not have seen it at all. But that's true of so much of his life isn't it?

He glances over at Aelwyn when she speaks.]

Go ahead. At least it's not a person I'm helping to bury in the woods this time.

[Or being expected to dig his own grave.]

1A

[myfavoritemurder]

Oh, definitely more flammable than stabbable.

[Callisto remarks, breathless - because even though she's been wildly slashing her dagger through the air, letting out the occasional snarl of frustration, the butterflies are small, quick, and insubstantial enough to dodge easily. Callisto manages to crush one against a tree, but that's it.]

Everything is flammable if you try hard enough. Go on.

[She'll certainly find no objection here.]

takayuki yagami | yakuza | OTA

[taabou]

HANDLE WITH CARE

[ Locking his phone, Takayuki hightails it towards the vague location a post on social media had been made. The person had mentioned something about being terrified after seeing a "deer monster", and they aren't the first to do it-- they are, however, the first to be close enough to him that Takayuki thinks he might actually see the damn thing.

His security duties don't extend outside ADI like this, but his concern with an apparently violent monster is ingrained in him after six years of being a detective in a crime-infested town-- Gloucester may not be Kamurocho, but he's not about to ignore an obvious threat to people's lives, not when reports of injuries have stared coming in.

Takayuki removes his skateboard from where it's attached to his backpack, kicking hard at the ground to make his way to where the post had been made. In only a few minutes' time of searching, his eyes go wide when he finally sees it: this creature with hands for antlers and palms on the ground. ]

Holy sh-- [ That's when he notices its stance, clearly getting ready to charge into someone it's already deemed a threat. And so, without thinking, he pushes himself forward harder, then kicks off the ground to slam his feet into the thing's head and send it flying.

His calves glow a faint red for just a moment, and then he's turning his head to the other person. ] Get outta here!

LET'S HAVE A TEA PARTY

I think I'm hitting my limit.

[ Whether you're someone he worked with on either of the two other days he came to help or someone new, Takayuki mutters the words all the same as he works with you. He collects a doll, puts it in a bag, and tries to pretend like his stomach isn't lurching the more he walks. ]

Kind of disappointed, actually. I thought I could hold out longer than this...

[ But his legs give out from under him as it feels like a wave's sent him crashing down. There's nothing there, of course, but he stumbles down all the same with an irritated swear in Japanese. He should be more scared, maybe, but he's sick and tired of the feeling. He's just also too stubborn to give up on his own sense.

Takayuki's bag has fallen open on the sand, some dolls that'd been inside rolling out with it. He reaches out for his grabber claw to try and retrieve them, but the swaying sensation has his fingers missing the handle every time. ]

Nngh... [ Damn it, he hates feeling so useless. ]

Sorry, can I ask for some help?

WILDCARD

Feel free to hit me up on the OOC plotting post or my plurk howletts if you want anything in particular! Otherwise, drop a starter as you'd like. 👍

for eve

[taabou]

[ It's near sunset, and Takayuki is eating a burger and fries as he waits for the sky to become the most orange it can be.

That said, he offers his container of fries to Eve where she sits in wait beside him in case she wants any (he got the upsized meal). ]

Whatever's in there, I think it's real. I came here the other day with someone and you could see this face in the water... [ Takayuki shakes his head, trying to stop himself from imagining it any creepier than it'd actually been. ] Even worse, it cried even louder any time I tried to suggest leaving it for the time being.

I'm not convinced it's what causing all this damage, though. You can barely see what it's doing down there, so...

Andrew Jaeger | Original Character | OTA

[bloodalwaystells]

Shipping and Handling

Jaeger may be a much stronger swimmer in the sheltered space of a pool rather than the open water, but he's not intimidated by the canal. Carefully respectful, yes, because the sea is a treacherous thing and the town of Gloucester has already proved that before, but he's still willing to investigate where others might not. A small boat after dark, venturing the glassy black of the water? No big deal, really.

He's also brought light, a good reliable floodlight, because he's still not quite shaken the danger of past encounters with shadows. Armed with knife and pistol, dressed on this rare occasion in a short-sleeved shirt and shorts for maximum mobility, he's an imposing figure on deck. The scars are pale, white, and delicate, almost deliberately elegant where they spill over his forearms, but he pays them little mind except for a vaguely apologetic look to his companion.

The scar across his neck is starker, more disturbing: a clean line, thick and pale, indicating something that tried to kill him and damn near succeeded.

But once the boat has pushed off, Jaeger is focused on the task at hand, on keeping the small boat steady and listening for something besides the soft shush of waves.

It comes, eventually, soft to start but growing stronger once it's noticed, as though it's deliberately trying to get attention. Maybe it's sobbing, or maybe it's the thud of hands against the hull, a desperate plea from under the waves. "Wait. Did you hear that?"

➥ Say, Say, O Playmate

It's a face that he never thought he'd see again except in dreams. And maybe there's a bit of shame there that it's not his wife or daughter, but the want that rushes through him is sharp as an icepick.

Smiling, bright-eyed, teeth just a little too sharp to be human. Her long hair and t-shirt are the same as he last remembers, the glitter of silver earrings and the delicate curve of ears that end in...that once ended in points. He's not the only one who knows scars, no matter how small they might seem in comparison.

"Indy." Her smile that's not quite her smile, sly and alluring and full of all sorts of promises if he'll just follow, if he can find her. Suddenly, nothing is as important as that, as following her to the next cool silver reflection.

There's a wild look in his eyes, blue-gray taking on a bitter desperation as he breaks with whatever he was doing, to suddenly and quite literally run off in another direction. Mindless of his surroundings, of the spectacle he might be making, and muttering to himself as he goes in the rough whisper of his voice.

Of course, no, he's not really going to break into...oh. Yes. Apparently, he is.

➥ Let's Have a Tea Party

"South of Mexico City, there's an island full of dolls. They were hung by a man who believed that they would appease the spirit of a little girl who drowned in the canal."

He's wearing the gloves. Absolfuckinglutely wearing the gloves, as he scans the beach with a faint frown. His camera hangs around his neck, and he'll take the gloves off to better take shots of the scene, but he's touching nothing else without that bit of protection.

Too bad it won't help, unfortunately.

((OOC: Will match brackets or prose. PM or brimstonemuse for plotting or custom starters, open to new and old CR!))

Shipping and Handling

[bindlestifflost]

George is in a t-shirt and jeans with his usual work boots, seated at the middle of the boat for balance and holding a maglite. Insects swarm around the light sources, not earning much more than a few idle waves of his hand. He reeks of Deep Woods Off, something he has been more than happy to adopt as a modern convenience he can get completely behind.

He's focused on the water and the night sounds, letting Jaeger steer. It's good to be paired up with somebody he trusts to handle himself in a pinch. He's not relaxed, precisely, but he's not nearly as tense as he could be.

Until the sound starts. He cuts his light. The reflection on the water's surface prevents him from seeing anything. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, he says, "Yeah. I hears it. Think it came from the right."

Eda Clawthorne | The Owl House | OTA

[edalyn]

Handle With Care

A) Eda is in the library when she suddenly feels something–or someone–touch the back of her neck. She looks up sharply before realising it isn’t a person. Well, that’s fine then. Having various things crawling in her hair isn’t really all that unusual for her, though this one is starting to tickle. She reaches back and pulls the creature off her neck before dropping it on the table by her book.

It’s a large spider, and she almost goes back to reading without a second thought, but something catches her eye. Does it have… little hands? She definitely wouldn’t think much of that back home, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t normal here. Not completely sure, just pretty sure. “Hey… you’re actually kinda cute, aren’t ya?” she decides, resting her chin on the table as she peers at the spider. It waves its little hands at her, most likely upset that it’s not getting the usual response of fear.

B) Eda’s taking a walk, lost in thought and probably looking for somewhere to get a drink when she hears a noise like… clapping? Walking? Somewhere in between? After a pause and a puzzled look she heads in that direction.

Whatever it was is suddenly drowned out by a louder set of footsteps, and a panicking human almost runs directly into Eda as they turn a corner. They stammer out a warning about a–a thing and sprint off before the witch is able to ask them what they’re talking about.

When Eda rounds the corner herself, she’s not sure what she’s expecting. It isn’t a more or less perfectly normal deer. Or at least, a perfectly normal deer on some parts of the Boiling Isles. It looks on edge and she pauses, raising a hand slowly. “Easy there, pal…”

Where the white things were aggressive from the moment she first ran into them–and looked a lot like something she expected as much from–this might just be an animal trying to mind its own business. Albeit one that would look a lot more home at… home. “You’re not local, are you? Look more like you’re from around one of the hands…” Maybe not precisely but it would certainly look like it belonged there.

The deer snorts and slaps a hand against the ground menacingly and Eda backs off slightly. Unfortunately, it seems to have made up its mind to charge. Damn. Well, she gave it a chance to not be hostile.

C) Once it becomes clear the escaped park animals–or at least, the butterflies and the deer–are attacking people, Eda will be volunteering to help hunt them down. Perhaps she’s asked if you want to team up? Or perhaps you’ve managed to end up in her way.

Shipping and Handling

Keeping herself busy with investigations is just what Eda needs right now, and so she’s happy enough to go see for herself when she hears about the reports from the Harbor.

She finds herself there in the evening, peering down into the water as something sobs and wails miserably. She’s trying to spot whatever is making the sound, but she’s not having much luck from above the surface.

It certainly feels likely to be a trap, but she’s still weighing that against the fact she tends to be a sucker for a person–or anything really–that needs help.

Say, Say, O Playmate (Raine + Open)
Extra cws: entities impersonating loved ones, uncertain fate of children

“Eda? Edaaaaaa?”

Eda stirs at the familiar voice, blinking and rolling over in bed. She’d retreated into the bedroom to sleep, although she doesn’t find it as comfortable as her nest. But things with Raine feel… awkward, and she’s giving them a little bit of space.

For a few seconds she assumes she’s still dreaming. Well, she has to be, right? Her kids aren’t here, as much as she might wish they were.

…Only Raine is here. And Hunter is here. Eda bolts upright suddenly and looks around, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from. Confusingly, it seems to be… the bathroom? Eda scrambles to her feet and soon finds herself in front of the mirror, shocked by the figure she’s seeing in it. Specifically, a teenage human she’s been missing very, very badly.

“Luz?!” Eyes wide, Eda rests a hand against the mirror. “Is it really–what are you doing there–” Questions start tumbling out faster than she can think about it.

“Well you–you remember last time I tried to make a portal door? I gave it another shot and I’m… in that weird, in-between place again. But I didn’t have much Titan’s Blood, I don’t know how long it’s going to last. We’ve been trying to find you…”

It’s possible that Eda’s playmate is using some magical compulsion to make this whole thing more believable, but it’s also possible it doesn’t need to. After all, the failed portal let Luz appear in reflective surfaces last time. It’s just plausible enough to be true… especially if Eda really wants it to be true.

Soon enough she’s off on a wild goose chase, being told that there’s something here that Luz thinks she needs to find, something that could help with getting out of this world she’s stuck in, but they’ve got to hurry! Clock’s ticking, running out of blood, no time to explain more!

Throughout the morning Eda can be spotted around town, talking into the suspiciously blank surface of her phone, or into windows that she’s passing, or working on breaking into closed buildings…

Note: I want her to get as far as finding a mirror shard, so I’d prefer no one be able to give her fully convincing context that everyone is seeing things. But it would be fun to have her run into a few people while she’s trying to follow an imaginary child around town!

Handle with Care (A)

[whisperedone]

Even if he can't see most of the books to read them, Garner rather likes the library for the quiet it offers and occasionally an offering of sources in brail, though they're few.

So he pauses as he happens by a woman clearly talking down towards the table in front of her, his brow creasing in confusion as he turns only slightly in her direction.

"Are...you talking to your...book?" Maybe it was a cute book?

Bucky/Winter | OTA

[worthallthis]

I. Handle With Care - Tiny Hands

The creatures Winter runs into when outside, prowling around the town or around the fence at Dogtown, get stomped and swatted. It's gross, but it's much, much better than the birds. He can handle weird bloody bug things better than being constantly stared at.

The ones he finds inside-- at ADI, in a cafe, though he never does find one inside the apartment thank god-- one can find him staring at through a glass. A glass which he has slammed down on top of the creature so he can get a better look at it, trapping it like the over-sized spider it resembles. "How does it even. Work," he mutters to himself, moving around the table the thing is trapped on, trying to look at it from all angles.

He's going to smash it eventually, but give him a minute to boggle at it first while it can't actually hurt anybody.


II. Handle With Care - Deer Hunting

This is also something Winter can do. This is practically easy. He's going out in the evenings, taking his rifle, and hunting for this weird handsy deer thing. He won't say no to backup, provided that back-up is in decent shape. Or is willing to just play spotter from somewhere out of danger and stay on comms only.


III. Shipping and Handling - Fishing

Winter is not going in that water for love or money. What he is doing is hanging out under the bridge, playing some quiet jazz from his phone (thanks Yelena!), and using fishing lines, sticks he's tied hooks to, his own two hands to start hauling trash out.

If there's something down there, nobody's gonna be able to get to it with all that junk in the way, right?


IV. Playmates

Coming home from ADI one evening, one of those invisible reflections catches Winter's attention. He knows the person he used to be, Bucky Barnes, had family. Sisters. Steve told him. He doesn't remember them at all.

But the face on that teenaged girl in the window is familiar. The eyes are the same eyes he sees in the mirror, only maybe less haunted. The curly hair coming out of her braid is the same as his hair. The name his brain supplies is Becca.

And he follows her. God help him, he does, even if he knows it's just an Entity trick. He wants memories of his sister, and maybe just watching her trot from reflection to reflection might spur some, smiling over her shoulder at him, chattering amiably, like she really was his sister and he really was the person Steve thinks he used to be.

Anyone who catches him at it will get an apologetic look but he doesn't stop, and unless somebody manages to convince him to stop, he will find his mirror shard on the roof of an apartment complex, and will try to collect it to return to ADI. And maybe he'll stare at it a little while, kind of hoping for one more glimpse of someone with his eyes and hair and a much better smile than he ever manages.


V. Downtime

Winter spends a day with his senses all confused, thanks mirror shard! And so he spends it distracted and bumping into things and people, most of which make him wince as the sense of touch turns into a shriek of metal in his ears. He stares at lot at things-- food, people, the walls-- looking somewhere between annoyed and fascinated. "This happened to me before," he says if someone asks, baffled at his own partial memory. "But I don't remember how."

When that fades, or before it even happens, one might find him in his downtime sitting somewhere with a book. Not a romance, this time, but an old sci fi pulp or some 1930s classic. He appears to be muttering to himself, Get close enough, and you can hear that he's actually reading out loud. To himself.

If he's safe in his apartment, or visiting a friend in his apartment and just sitting together doing nothing, he won't even be muttering. It'll just be full-on reading out loud to his friend, his friend's roommates, or his own roommates. Enjoy that, folks.

Downtime

[whisperedone]

It's the very quiet murmur that draws his attention, but it's the subtle shift of metal and a familiar presence that had Garner coming closer. Was Winter reading? There's a quiet sound of paper under a finger and Garner hesitates practically next to the other man.

"Are you reading?"

It might seem silly, but there's something slightly hopeful in his voice.

Ade Bennett | The Wess'har Wars | OTA

[landing_lights]

i. handle with care

[ When Ade had first started seeing butterflies on his morning runs, they’d been a welcome sight. He’s generally not too interested in insects, but they make for a nice splash of color and interest when he’s running by the same buildings and landmarks for the hundredth time. Plus, they appear in varieties and numbers here that they never had in Ade’s time—he’s guessing a lot of these species went extinct by the time the 24th century rolled around.

Still, when he sees a butterfly made of tiny interlocking hands, he knows that it has no business existing on any version of Earth.

There is a brief, intense chase before Ade is finally able to pluck the thing out of the air, one of its tiny palms pinched between two of his fingers. Its own fingers flex and squirm, scrabbling against his own. They remind him of the hands of a monkey—or an child. ]

Um… [ He looks around, clearly unsure of the protocol regarding butterflies made of hands. Obviously, he can’t let it fly around where civilians might see it, but… is he supposed to neutralize it here? He looks down at his catch, imagining what it would feel like to crush those tiny hands in his own.

He grimaces. ]

Let’s let the ADI decide how to deal with you, yeah? [ he whispers to the thing, cupping his other hand around it to shield it from view. Hopefully no one becomes too curious about the “insect” he’s caught as he makes his way back to headquarters. ]

ii. let’s have a tea party

Bloody thing. Get in there.

[ This, said by Ade as he attempts to maneuver a doll into a black bin bag using a stick of driftwood he found lying about on the beach. He’s determined not to have a repeat of his last encounter with one of the dolls, which he’s still woozy from a good half-hour later. Now, he’s not even risking touching them with gloves.

As he works, Ade also stays vigilant for anyone who looks like the work is getting to be too much for them. Anyone who’s collapsed from dizziness may feel a gentle grip helping them up from the sand. ]

Come on, mate, [ Ade says, moving to guide them off the beach. ] I think you could use a break.

iii. say, say, o playmate (closed to takayuki)

[ He hadn’t meant to scare anyone. Really, he hadn’t.

The security guard had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he hadn’t decided to make such a thorough sweep of the furniture gallery, he likely wouldn’t have found Ade in the back amongst the mirrors, staring bemusedly into the glass.

Ade wonders what the guard had seen in the reflection. Ade had seen a fox—a red fox, to be exact, sleek and playful. It had led him on a chase alongside shop windows and shining puddles of water, always urging him on, always waiting for him to follow, until at last, it had brought him into the back of that gallery. Of course, Ade had followed. There was clearly something worth investigating going on and, well… Ade likes foxes. If this one is trapped in some supernatural mirror world, he wants to help it.

The security guard, evidently, had not seen a fox when he looked past Ade into the mirror just beyond him. He’d seen something that had caused him to scream, run from the room, and call the cops.

This is why Ade is now sitting in a locked room inside the Gloucester police station, waiting for someone from ADI to come pick him up. He’s a well-behaved prisoner, quiet and apologetic to the officers, occupying his time by doing his best to summon up some amount of guilt for the fear he’d caused that poor security guard.

He needs something to distract him from what he really feels: well-fed. ]

i. handle with care

[brunonono]

[Unfortunately for everyone involved, Ade arrives at headquarters just as Bruno has finished his shift. Since the other man obviously has his hands full, Bruno holds the door for him, eyes tracking Ade's hands with curiosity.]

Heeyyy, rat guy!

[That's a rich nickname coming from Bruno Madrigal of all people, but here they are. He lets go of the door as soon as Ade's through, backtracking to follow him rather than continue outside like he'd originally intended.]

What've you got? Is that one of your rats? Did you name them yet?

Jonathan Sims

[the_archivist]

Drown in the Deep
[A mysterious sobbing from under the bridge. Litter choking the waterway, hitting boats. A curious combination.

Jon can't help but focus on running through everything he knows as he pokes around the waterway. Something lurking under a bridge... could be Stranger, could be... so many things. And the litter... extinction is his first thought, but it could veer into corruption.

He hates not being able to Know it, easy and automatic as breathing.

Which explains why he's not quite as careful as he should be. He can hear the sobbing from the water. And he leans down, moving to his knees to look closer. Just a bit closer, and curiosity has always been his strength... and his weakness.

There... beneath the water! He sees it. He-

He cries out as something grabs him, tight grip around his arms as he pitches forward into the icy black water.]

[graveyounglady]

[It's the mention of litter that really draws Mercy's attention here. She's reminded of some of the corrupting influence they'd heard about and scene in Wolf Pen. If this is another situation like Plessy's Holler and someone dumped something to poison the water... that's a thing well worth looking into. She hadn't been able to help with the fight against the avatars there, so this is making up for it, right? Right. She just needs to-

There's the sound of a cry and a loud splash, not unlike when George had gone over into the lake. She quickens her pace to the edge of the canal and sees someone flailing in the water. Someone familiar.]

You hold on, Mr. Jon, I'll get you out!

[Will she? It's a bit of a drop down to the water, and Jon's not immediately next to the side. With how steep the sides are, she's not as sure she can get him out if she has to go in there, and it looks... gross.]

Can you swim toward me?