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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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Eda finds it funny that someone would be concerned by something as little as a talking spider existing, but she decides not to press the point.

She thinks about the next question for a moment. "I don't know. Put him outside, I guess? Or maybe in my apartment... I could use someone to keep ticks out of my nest," she muses, like that's a perfectly normal thing to say.

Her tone is a tiny bit more serious when she goes on, though. "I'm not sure I'm sold on this whole everything supernatural is evil business. Humans tend to be wrong about that. And even if they are connected to these... things, well, so are we."

Or her, at least. She doesn't know if this guy has any sort of magic.

She says nest and it certainly sparks his curiosity, but more importantly, she mentions 'humans' as in she isn't among them and the spider is all but forgotten.

"Are you...not human, then? I- I apologize if I sound excited, that must be odd, but my world is filled with many many races and I've been told everyone on this world is human, so I simply..." He should pause. Not be that weird. Normal people weren't thrilled by this sort of thing, right?

"Sorry. It has been weighing on my mind, but I should show better restraint and not be so rude.."

Not that his quiet and usually peaceful voice had risen that much, but it was marked delight.

Eda is a bit surprised by the reaction, but she doesn't seem offended nearly so much as she is amused.

"It's fine, I could certainly do with some more people who aren't human--er, no offense," she adds the last bit with a faint snort, possibly underlining the comment as much as apologizing for it. Not that she actually has anything against humans. "But there are a few of us here. Just none from here." As far as she knows, at any rate.

"I'm a witch," she adds, almost seeming to think that that's a complete answer before remembering that it isn't one in this place. "From the Demon Realm. We're sort of like humans, but we can do powerful magic, we're tougher and we've got these--"

Eda pulls her hair back a bit before remembering to clarify. "Pointy ears. You can touch 'em if you want."

He seems a little surprised to be told there were several non-humans here. Most of the ones he'd known were gone now, but he knew of Katrina and Nick...how many others were there that he'd simply missed because he couldn't see them? Well...couldn't see them and kept to himself. A bad combination for learning of new people.

"If that would not be odd to you." He is curious and brings a hand up near where he estimates her head to be, but lets his hand linger there in the air, his fingers brushing by her hair. He didn't want to touch where he wasn't welcome and he certainly didn't want to accidentally poke her in the face or something. "Witch is not a word used very often back home, there are many magic users, but wizard and sorcerer and warlock are more common, among others. Demons and demonborn are common in concept or existence as well. Do you have horns?"

It's important for the mental image forming.

Eda chuckles slightly and tilts her head to poke the man's hand with her ear. She doesn't seem especially awkward about the whole thing, but it probably is for he didn't poke her in the face as that might be a good way for someone to get bitten.

"Yeah, well, where I'm from witch is a species," she explains. "It doesn't just mean magic user like it seems to around here. Wizards are just pretentious witches with stupid hats and degrees. And warlocks are just witches that dress like they shop at Hot Topic." Hey, that's a human reference right? He'll definitely understand it.

"And no, I haven't got horns. But a lot of us do. Demons and witches with some demon ancestry, anyway." The lines between witch and demon were admittedly blurry sometimes.

He smiles slightly and runs his fingers just slightly over the shape of the ear. Pointed, as she said. An odd thing to find comforting, perhaps.

"I'm not certain I know what a 'hot topic' is that you would shop at one, but the rest...actually doesn't sound too far off, from what I know." Wizards were magic users with degrees...unknown about the hats, he couldn't say.

"Are demons not evil creatures where you are from, then?" That would be novel.

Eda decides she doesn't feel like taking on the task of explaining that first part, but she lets out a snort at the next comment.

"That's a human misconception. They're no more evil than anyone else," she says, sounding a little amused. "Or less, for that matter. We're all just... people. Some of us suck, but so do some of you."

In fact, one of the only people she'd really count as evil is a human, but she's not about to get into that.

He lets his hand fall away again and he takes a respectful half step back. Most people didn't appreciate when he forgot how close he was likely standing, he had to remember that.

"Hm...it's possible that is true of the demons back home as well, I would not assume their circumstances are the same since they are of a different world, but I also have never met one to ask." And it was ultimately a moot point while he was here. "The rest, however...well, you are correct. Humans, elves, dwarves...we can all...suck as much as anyone else."

His arms cross loosely in front of his chest, held tilting slightly as though regarding her with his curiosity. "Are you the only one from your home here? You mentioned there were more non-humans than I was accounting for." Where there was one, after all...

Eda can't speak on the demons from his world, but if she had to guess she suspects nothing is as cut and dried as a whole class of beings having some inherent maliciousness. Then again, she supposes she has no proof that isn't how it works in other worlds. Either way, the next part gets a chuckle out of her.

"There's two other witches from the Boiling Isles, actually." She still has to wonder about the rhyme or reason behind who ends up here. "Hunter, he's a kid I kind of knew from home. And Raine Whispers, they're a powerful bard and... an old friend."

There's a slight hesitation there, just enough to imply that old friend is probably leaving out quite a bit. "And there's some non-humans that aren't from my world, too. I know there's a siren, and the girl who teaches the phone classes is... some kind of a construct. I don't know, she's blue." Probably not the most helpful description all things considered, but she's only loosely sure what Cortana's deal is.

He nods, taking the information in stride. The pause on 'old friend' is noted, but his ability to read people was limited. There was something she wasn't saying there, but what he couldn't and shouldn't guess. Everyone had a history.

The mention of the other non-humans she knows is more than he expects, though when she mentions a siren, his expression turns softer. "Ah...yes, I am well acquainted with Katrina. She is a good friend and a strong woman. I'm not familiar with the rest, though I suppose I did take that class." He just hadn't noticed anything odd.

"I will have to keep an ear out for them. There used to be a devil-born girl here and a cow-man. I also know there is a metal man who is very nice as well." And whatever Crowley had been. He'd had his guess, but he hadn't been able to ask his friend before he'd vanished.

"I am not glad that you have been brought here, but I am glad there are more non-humans about as well."

Eda listens curiously, wondering if the devil-born girl was anything to do with the kind of demon that she's used to or something else.

"Yeah, Katrina's alright. She could stand to have a little more fun... but she's chill. We went hunting in Wolf Pen. I don't think I've met the metal guy." She'll have to keep an eye out, though.

"I'm not glad I'm here either... but I'm sure I will make things more interesting." Her tone puts that somewhere between a joke and her actual ego talking.

"His name is Nick." He offers, but smiles a little wider for her assessment.

"Oh, I am quite certain for that. There are many here, perhaps myself included, who do not have as much fun as they should. Someone concerned with such things would be a refreshing change."

He considers a moment and then offers his hand out vaguely between them. Hopefully she understood handshakes, but no harm if she didn't.

"I'm called Garner. I'm pleased to have stumbled across you with your...oh...your friend. If he's still here. "

Eda makes a note of the name for later. As for the next part, well, it's not terribly promising about the people here if fun would be a refreshing change. Even if she understands it not being a top priority given, well, everything else.

"Eda Clawthorne." She briefly debates acting confused, but instead settles on just shaking the man's hand.

At the reminder she glances back at the table, noticing that the spider has scurried to the other end. "Oh... looks like he's wandering off. Sure you don't want to live in my apartment, little guy?"

He lets their hands fall, the name 'Eda' settling nicely in his memory along with a deeper, rich voice and an interesting scent he could quite place but wouldn't likely forget the context for any time soon.

"I...don't think they allow pets in ADI, even spiders...though, especially spiders with hands. I suspect there may be some pushback for that."

But that's her trouble to make or contend with, he wasn't going to say anything about it.

"Do bugs count as pets here? I'm pretty sure it's hard to keep them all out of a house." Then again, maybe the ones at home are more tenacious. It was probably easier here if the hands weren't normal.

"But you've got a point... they gave me trouble for having an owl. I won that one since he's not exactly a pet." And since she wasn't going to work or live here if they were against her keeping Owlbert.

That...catches his attention again. "No? Is he your messenger bird, then?"

It puts him back in mind of Kruos. A few people had asked him if the young dragon had arrived with him and he'd always figured it had been better that he hadn't. Perhaps they would have let him keep the whelp if he'd pushed for the angle of Kruos being his seeing-eye-dragon. Oh well, a moot thought overall.

"No, I didn't bring one of those," Eda says, though it might have been useful. Then again no one uses them here, so it might not be worth it.

"He's a palisman. I think here you'd call him a familiar? Only ours are made of wood." Which... probably isn't any less confusing, since no else seems to have anything very similar where they're from.

"I carved him from an ancient tree, and we're bonded for life. If they didn't let me keep Owlbert they weren't keeping me."

He has heard of familiars at least, even if he's never cast for one or seen someone cast for one himself. The concept was...familiar. Though, carving it from wood was a new conceit.

"That sounds reasonable. Even were you not bonded like that, he is your companion as well as something you made with clear love and detail. Woodworking is not easy. Someday, I would like a chance to meet him."

"Yeah, you get it." Eda's voice softens a little as she says that. Making Owlbert is one of her best memories, even if she doesn't like thinking about her father much these days. And the sort of woodworking it takes to make palismen is definitely an art, which is why her family was known for it.

"He went outside to look for mice," she adds. She doesn't usually have him far from her, but sometimes he gets bored in the library, and she doesn't need him as a staff at the moment. "I can call him if you like." After all, he might be a bit wary of new people, especially in this place, but he's used to being shown off now and then.

He perks up a bit, his head cocking to the side slightly as though he needed to hear her better to make sure of what she said.

"I would like that very much, if it's not an imposition on his time or desire." Owlbert sounded like he was doing important work, after all.

"Nah, I should really check on him anyway." He certainly ran errands on his own enough in the past, and the demon realm wasn't exactly safe, but she's never sure what kind of trouble might show up here. Not to mention the fact neither of them are at their best--even if him going out to hunt made them just a tiny little bit stronger.

"Hang on," she added. It didn't take her long to go poke her head out the door and call for her palisman, and fairly soon after that the little owl flew back to land on her shoulder. She gave him a little scratch between the wings before walking back to where she'd left her new acquaintance.

"Hm... do you want to hold him?"

Garner waits as she goes to fetch her friend and takes the time to try and remember why he'd come in here in the first place. Reading? Quiet, right...well, this was still learning, so ultimately a successful trip.

He turns back towards her, largely unmoved, by the time she returns. The sound of her finger in feathers is very soft and barely noticeable if it weren't for him actively listening for the new arrival.

"I...ah...sure, yes. I would like to." He'd like to, that didn't mean he wasn't nervous. He holds his hands out in front of him, cupped in a way he hopes is helpful.

"We had a baby phoenix back home, we accidentally stole her egg from people who probably shouldn't have had her...she'd not yet learned how to fly, but that was my first experience holding a bird."

Eda can't hide a chuckle at the way Garner seems nervous. Normally she would have just shown him, but since that's not really an option this seems like it makes sense.

"Well, he's not a baby so you don't need to worry. Wouldn't mind hearing the rest of that story, though." She's at least a little curious after that start.

"Go on, it's alright," she adds, directed at her palisman. Owlbert watches the man for a long moment before hopping to her arm and then to Garner's hands. He's small, about like a burrowing owl, and easily perches there. He feels somewhere between a bird and an intricate carving, but he's definitely moving like a living animal. He makes a tiny, curious trilling sound.

Garner's eyes widen in surprise when he feels the little creature in his palms and he carefully shifts his hold so he can free a hand to bring up some fingers to pet very gently at Owlbert's stomach the way Lazuli liked.

"Hello there." His voice is even more quiet than normal to address the palisman. "You feel like a very regal owl, I bet you're beautiful."

To Eda, he speaks a little louder, back to his normal. "My companion was investigating fortune tellers we suspected were frauds causing nightmares and then taking people's money to tell them what the nightmares meant. While he was in their rooms looking around, he came across something we thought was just a gemstone. Except, exposure to the next morning's sun resulted in the 'stone' hatching and suddenly we had a baby phoenix with us. We...left town that day."

Owlbert still isn't fully relaxed around a new person, but the compliments and gentle pets seem to go a long way. He fluffs up his feathers slightly and gives a more contented trill, seemingly alright with staying where he is for the moment.

"That's... actually not a terrible business model," Eda muses with a snort. She can appreciate a good con, especially if no one was getting seriously hurt, and it gets extra points for being funny. She doesn't seem to have an issue with stealing the egg, either.

"Did you keep the bird?"

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