apocalypsehowcomm | Event

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Event - Aftermath

Aftermath

➥ Handle With Care

Six photographs arranged in two rows of three photos each depicting tanned hands performing a variety of shadow puppets.
(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

Photo of a the underside of a bridge with a river flowing under it. There is an upside down, discarded bottle in the water and scum-like foam around it.
(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

Photo of two little girls reflected in a large mirrored door. The younger girl's reflection does not match what she is actually doing.
(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

Photo of a smiling caucasian woman holding up a smiling babydoll that is partially destroyed and covered in sand.
(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.

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Caitlyn does what she can to help, trying to speed the process.

"Do you know how to steer a boat?" She herself hasn't the foggiest clue.

A glance down into the water and she frowns, considering. A canal surely can't be all that deep, but from here the bottom is lost in darkness. "Perhaps one of us ought to stay here. In case it is a trap. If the boat capsizes, we could both be pulled under."

"I can steer a boat well enough to get there, yeah." While she generally uses her homemade pedal-boat these days, she's at least been in a rowboat now and then. It couldn't be too hard to get a little ways onto still water, right?

"But you've got a point." She continues with the knot, picking it apart with her long nails, and soon has it untied with Caitlyn's help.

As soon as the rope is untied, Caitlyn reaches out to grab the dinghy to prevent it floating away. She hadn't thought of that, had she? It's probably alright. There's hardly any current. Tentatively, she lets go, and the boat remains bobbing where it is, at least for the moment.

She nods to Eda, taking her words as an agreement not to use the boat. At least not unless it really becomes necessary. "Let's toss the rope to it."

She shines the flashlight back on the spot where the splash had been. There's still something there, some indistinguishable shape. A face, perhaps. It's hard to make out.

"Can you hear me?" she calls out. "We're going to throw a rope out. Are you able to pull yourself to shore?"

The wailing continues unabated.

Eda watches as Caitlyn lets go is the boat--that was the reason she wanted to consider using it before it floated away.

Nothing seems to react when the rope hits the water, and Eda peers at the spot trying to see if there's any change in the shape.

"You in there," she calls over, "do you actually want out of the water? Can you talk?"

The wailing goes on, and Eda isn't sure if it's starting to sound even sadder or if that's just her imagination. Either way, it's starting to remind her of things she doesn't especially want to think about.

Something splashes again suddenly, but whatever it is doesn't actually grab the rope. Eda glances at Caitlyn.

Caitlyn glances at Eda, meeting the other woman's eyes for a moment before returning her attention to the creature in the canal. That was definitely a hand reaching out from under the water. And to her ears, the wailing sounds distinctly sadder.

"It may be too weak to grab hold."

She starts to pull the rope back in, impatient to help, even if that means diving into the water herself.

Eda isn't sure if the thing is responding to them at all, but they really do need to try at this point.

She nods, wishing they had a better plan than 'just try jumping in'. And wondering exactly when she became the sort of person who wanted a better plan than that.

"Well... I'll pull you back if anything happens. See if you can at least get a better look at it."

She nods to Eda. "Alright."

Caitlyn ties the rope around her waist as snugly as she can and pulls off her shoes before lowering herself into the water. She learned to swim in heated indoor pools with clear water and tiled floors, and this is certainly... different. She stretches her legs out, trying to find the bottom with her feet, but there's nothing. Nothing until her foot hits something. She jerks back suddenly, only to realize it's just a bit of loose netting. Something else, which she quickly recognizes as an empty bottle, knocks against her leg.

"This water is filthy." She's not directing her words to Eda per se, but she's not trying to keep her voice down either.

With a frown, she pushes away from the edge of the canal and starts swimming out towards the creature.

Eda loops the rope over her arm a couple of times and makes sure she has a grip on it. She watches closely, although she can't tell what startled Caitlyn.

"Yeah... that doesn't really surprise me." After all, a lot of junk washes up on the Boiling Isles, and that's just the stuff finding its way into wild portals. Normally that's a good thing for her, but now that she thinks about it, she's pretty sure that means things have to be an awful lot worse here. Do humans really not have anything better to do with their trash?

She turns her attention more to the creature in the water, wanting to spot if it actually does something.

Another bit of trash brushes against Caitlyn's arm, and she shoves it away with a sneer. This really is disgusting. The River Pilt is contaminated by runoff from the mines, but as far as she's aware there's no such reason for the state of this water. It really ought to be cleaned up.

She swims carefully out towards the creature, having to continually bat away trash until it reaches the point that she's struggling to stay afloat.

A bag snares itself around her arm. The loose netting she'd felt earlier snags on her foot. She tries to pull it off but suddenly she's underwater, flailing against the trash that seems to have developed a mind of its own and a desire to drag her down. For a moment as she's pulled beneath the surface, she catches a glimpse of something long and serpentine, but then her eyes shut against the stinging water as she twists and thrashes in a desperate attempt to escape the garbage pulling her deeper and deeper.

Eda can't tell from here if it's the creature or if it's something else, but this is clearly going wrong. It might not be the creature--the vague shape and crying don't seem to have changed--but either way there isn't really time to think about that.

Eda hauls back on the rope and realises quickly that she'd probably be best off tying it around the nearest post again--something she manages, but it only really helps in stalling for time.

She mutters a few choice words and hauls back on it again, seeing what she can manage without resorting to her limited powers quite yet.

Caitlyn feels the sudden tug of the rope around her midsection yanking her back towards shore. The trash tangled around her legs seems to fight back, and for a few seconds she feels like the unfortunate object of a rather violent tug-of-war game.

There's another tug, and Caitlyn slams into the bank, knocking what air she had left out of her as the garbage keeps pulling her down.

Her lungs are starting to burn. Desperately, she reaches up for the bank, trying to grab onto anything she can, but she's not even sure whether her hand is breaching the surface.

Eda spots the other woman's hand breaking the surface of the water briefly, but unfortunately it's not quite in reach, even if she was fast enough.

Dammit. Eda can't quite see what's happening, beyond the fact the water is filthy, but she can tell she's playing tug-of-war with something. And if she keeps that up she's likely to lose a hand or two, which won't help anyone.

Time for a different approach. Eda's been doing her best not to use her magic around most of the ADI, especially the people she doesn't know who might not approve of that. But most people don't approve of drowning, either.

Letting go of the rope with one hand she reaches into a pocket with the other. She pulls out of a piece of paper and slaps it against the pillar the rope is tied off to. Thick vines burst from the paper, tangling themselves around the post and then winding their way down the rope. They'll try to wind around Caitlyn as well, when they get that far.

Eda can't be certain how well this will work--or how much of her limited power she's burning through, but using the plants to haul Caitlyn back should have a better chance than Eda using her strength alone.

Caitlyn's head is throbbing, her chest feels like it's in a vice. Is she going to die here? There's no way to think herself out of this, no clever logical solution, no reasoning with or intimidating mindless trash even if she could speak.

She opens her eyes, trying to see something, anything to grab onto, but the water is too murky to see much. Or maybe her vision's dimming.

Her hand finds the rope. She reaches up along it, hoping that maybe she can use it to pull herself up, or that Eda will be able to find her hand, but something creeps down towards her, winding around her arm and then further down around her shoulder and torso. She tries to pull her arm away, to free herself from whatever this new thing is, but it's wrapped around her too tightly, and her muscles are starting to weaken.

"Stop squirming, I'm trying to help!"

Eda isn't sure if Caitlyn will actually hear her, and she isn't completely sure if she is squirming or if it's just whatever is trying to keep her in the water, but the witch might as well try.

Fortunately, it isn't too long before Caitlyn ends up close enough for Eda to lean out and grab her arm, doing her best to get a solid grip and drag her out of the water. Normally the human wouldn't exactly be heavy, but something is definitely doing its best to make this difficult.

Caitlyn has nearly passed out by the time she's hauled up onto the bank. She's not really sure what's pulling her where at this point, or whether she's still underwater until her arms are braced on concrete and she's coughing up water and, slowly, light and color and sound start to fade back in.

"Thank you." Her voice is scratchy. She must have swallowed quite a bit of water. "You saved my life."

She's still tangled up in all sorts of things, but before she can extricate herself, she realizes that some of the things she's tangled in are vines. Where did those come from?

Eda's glad that the woman is still breathing, this could have been going worse at least. She looks her over, making sure she doesn't seem noticeably injured.

"Don't mention it," Eda says, shrugging. "Seriously, I'd appreciate if you don't mention this." The vines are starting to loosen and break apart, but she knows it's likely Caitlyn noticed them already.

After a moment she reaches to offer her a hand at getting some of the trash untangled.

She gratefully accepts Eda's help pulling the trash off of her, but she can't let the vine thing go. There certainly were no vines anywhere along the bank before, and the way they're unwinding themselves now, breaking apart... these aren't naturally occurring vines.

"You... grew them?" She glances around as though there might be someone listening in on their conversation, and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you use magic?"

"No, they grew by complete coincidence," Eda says this flippantly as she manages to untangle a strip of fishing net.

After that, though, she lowers her voice as well. "Yeah, I figured you'd probably prefer that to drowning. I can toss you back in if I was wrong." This definitely comes off more as friendly snark than as any kind of actual threat, though she would prefer if the woman doesn't make a big deal of it.

She feels... weak. Damn. She isn't sure if that burned though what power she still had after Wolf Pen, but she isn't about to test and find out.

Outside of hextech, magic would never be allowed in Piltover, and here, of course, there are the Entities. But Caitlyn's never been one to assume that all mages are inherently dangerous. And she can't help but be curious.

"It's just that I've never seen anyone do proper magic before. It's outlawed where I'm from - everyone says it's dangerous. I always rather wanted to meet a mage, though."

There are so many questions she wants to ask Eda about magic, but there are more pressing issues at the moment. She helps Eda finish unwinding the net from around her legs and pulls a few more bags off of her arms before stumbling to her feet, hands braced on her knees. Her throat and chest ache and her ears are still ringing, but the creature in the canal still needs help. They can't just abandon it.

When Caitlyn explains, Eda's expression changes to something a little more amused and self important. She stands back up to her full, somewhat imposing height for effect.

"Well, in that case you're in luck," she says, flashing the other woman a grin. "I'm Eda the Owl Lady--and I was the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles." That... technically stopped being true a bit before she got here ~~if it ever was,~~ but she doesn't need to explain all the details.

"Here... not so much," she admits, wrinkling her nose slightly. "But I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve." Whether that would be enough to actually get this creature out of the water, that was another question.

Caitlyn looks up at Eda, suitably impressed. "What else can you do? In my world there are runes that can be combined to have different effects. Is it like that?"

Even if the fine details will have to wait until they've done everything they can here, she wants to hear all about Eda's magic, and eventually all about the Boiling Isles as well.

"Actually? You're right, it sounds similar." In fact, it sounds closer to at least one form of magic she's familiar with than a lot of what other people have talked about here. She's keeping at least a little bit of track of the different systems she hears about.

"That was a glyph." She reaches into a pocket and pulls out some sheets of paper long enough to flash the fact they have symbols drawn on them, but then pockets them again for the moment. She isn't being especially secretive--fundamentally she has a lot of opinions on giving everyone equal access to magic, but now probably isn't the best time for an in-depth explanation.

Caitlyn stares as closely as she can at the tantalising glimpse of the papers.

"I'd like to hear more of how it works." She turns to look back out to the canal, to the spot where she'd seen the serpentine figure. "After we've rescued it."

She straightens slowly, taking in a few deep breaths. "The creature had nothing to do with pulling me under," she clarifies, in case Eda is wondering. "I suspect it's trapped by the garbage."

"Yeah, later." She can explain the concept, at any rate. She's actually not certain how glyphs would work here for people who aren't from her world. It has to be the Entities powering them rather than the Titan... but would that work for anyone now that she's brought the system to this dimension? That's actually something to think about. Huh.

Eda looks back out at the water when Caitlyn steers the topic back to the creature. She'd been going to ask about that, and she nods. "I guess that explains it being here all this time... did you see what it is? Or how big?"

Pulling Caitlyn out had already taken effort, she wants to know what they're dealing with.

"I caught a glimpse. It was long, perhaps a snake or an eel. But I thought I saw a face that looked... human." Though who knows how accurate her impression was, given the circumstances. "I'm not sure how large it is. Or how heavy."

She starts to untie the rope around her waist. As much as she would jump in again if she felt it would help, that would likely amount to suicide. Might as well put the rope to a different use.

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