apocalypsehowcomm | Event

Blind Spot

➥ The Merry Mare of Wintermas

Photograph of a horse skull in profile on a black background.
(cw: stalking, animal skeletons, obsession, supernaturally-induced anxiety)

There is something following you. Whatever the reason, you're out at night, and something lurks, creeping after you whenever you turn your attention away from… that bush? That building? That streetlamp? How can a streetlamp be hiding something? You're sure there's something there, though. It only seems to follow people in groups of two, never individuals or groups with more.

It's as you're passing an alley or a particularly dark patch of shadows, or a large bush, that a voice calls out to you. It's like the creak of a poorly-maintained hinge. "It's time to play a game" the voice says.

Drawing closer or shining a light will reveal a skeletal creature draped in a bloodied, torn white cloth. Its skull is equine in appearance… equine with razor sharp teeth, but the rest of its body seems flexible, the bones shifting position to provide a hand or height, or anything it may need in the moment.

"Two heads. Surely, surely." The creature cocks its skull. "Surely enough." Then it stares down at one of you. "Play." What leaves its mouth next is a riddle. One that neither you, nor your companion has ever heard. One that seems, all at once, impossibly difficult. You've been put on the spot, like being called on in class when you were thoroughly unprepared and expecting someone else to be picked. There may be panic, but try to think. You've been given a riddle, and anything less than the correct response will result in an angry shriek from the Merry Mare of Wintermas and an attack by a creature that has a bone to pick.

Answer right, though, and reap the reward! A bray of laughter and a near trampling as it departs, hunting for the next potential participant in its game. You may be visited by the Merry Mare of Wintermas after that, as well. A hunted feeling pervades your waking hours. It accosts you in alleys and scratches at windows, no matter where you sleep, demanding you play its riddle game. Any failure will result in immediate attack.

➥ Lamp of the Body

Photograph of a stained glass eye made up of blues, blacks, and greens.
(cw: attempted sacrifice, cults, scopophobia, defamation)

After weeks and weeks of observation and infiltration from dedicated individuals, the word is finally sent out: a strike is being planned against the Holy Light Church, Greta Thomas, and Father Mark Sullivan. However, simply attacking an established church in the city is something that takes care and it’s quickly decided this will need to be handled on two fronts.

Those staying back will face the horrors of red tape and social and political reputation as individuals good at digging for information and spinning public relations will be tapped to look into the church’s dealings. Airing their dirty laundry, and generally tearing down their good name in the community is the goal here, but any identifiable members of the congregation that can be intimidated, chased out of town, or generally removed is also encouraged. Something made particularly difficult with all the layers of digital security the church seems to carry.

Those putting boots on the ground are armed and roped into the planning: multiple points of entrance and a perimeter to catch any who try to run. The primary targets are Greta Thomas, Father Sullivan, and the deacons: Erin and Aaron Schüttmann, but there’s plenty of others who are likely to get in the way, and they most certainly do.

The night of the strike, the Church seems unchanged from the outside with its bright, even lighting on the entrances and cameras with their blinking recording lights posing an obstacle to any interested in stealth, but there are ways past those and windows that could fall victim to creativity. Once inside, the chaos starts. Members of The Holy Light’s congregation are present, ready, and armed. Perhaps it wasn’t as much of a surprise as ADI was hoping for, but the plan’s in action now.

Those that get beyond the front line defenders of the congregation might reach the out of bounds area where they will have a basic locked door to deal with first that leads into an office and private room with another door beyond, this one locked with key card access. Finally, past that, is a small series of backrooms where the air is thick with the scent of copper left on your tongue. The source isn’t hard to find, just follow the subtle sound of whirring and clicking and muffled whimpers.

Set in the deepest part of the church is an altar room, the walls and ceiling of which shift and whir with rows and rows of cameras with their little blinking lights of life. There is no angle or corner that can’t be seen by the unblinking lens as they observe the entrances and those few left gathered within. Those in fastest will see Greta Thomas, standing in front of an older man tied to the chair he’s sat in, the back of it angled back and stained an old rusty brown near the head. For just a moment, she has far too many eyes, her face and neck are all wide, staring, eyes aimed at the bound man until, all at once, they snap up to stare at the intruders. A wave of prickling awareness washes over those caught under her stare: she Knows you. Not just who you are and where you’re from, but what you’ve done. Every dirty little secret you’ve kept covered, every little thought you’ve ever had that has only ever been known by you. Until now. Unfortunately for you, she’s not afraid to use it.

➥ He Sees You

Photo of an enormous elf on the shelf balloon against a backdrop of skyscrapers.
(cw: the fear of being watched and unable to hide; creepy dolls; altered mental states)

Following ADI's infiltration of the church, there's still cleanup work to do: the warehouse used as storage and a base of operations for the cult's supernatural terrorism needs to be cleared out lest whatever remains inside harm more innocent people. Based on observation of people coming and going from the warehouse in the last weeks and the successful strike against the cult at the church, the expectation is that the danger this time around will come from whatever cursed items have been stored here.

Step inside and, day or night, and the most immediately obvious thing about this warehouse is the brightness of its lighting. It's not blinding–just the opposite, in fact. The numerous overhead and wall-mounted lights illuminate every inch of the place perfectly, leaving barely so much as a shadow even among the shelves and palettes of boxes. There is no hiding here; sound also travels clearly across the building, allowing anyone inside to pinpoint the location of anyone trying to sneak about. The visibility is too perfect, the light overstimulating, the openness of it all making you feel exposed and your brain itch with the need to take shelter.

The giant elf staring down from the rafters doesn't help, either.

Like its smaller, shelf-dwelling brethren, the ELF has a cloth body in bright Christmas colors and a plastic head with a mischievous, smiling face. Unlike the elves that plagued ADI last Christmas, the ELF has to be at least twelve feet long from head to toes. It lays draped and wedged through the rafters of the warehouse, strings of Christmas lights wrapped around its torso and its ragdoll arms dangling downward. It's motionless, looking for all the world like nothing more than a grotesque art installation, and unlike some elves, it stays put even when you look away. It seems somehow to meet your eyes when you gaze up at it, staring deep into your soul and cataloging all your deepest secrets and darkest shame. It knows everything you wish were yours alone to know, and with that knowledge comes the creeping dread that if you've been so easily found out, others must know as well.

Tearing your eyes away from it leaves the weight of knowing it's still watching. Somehow, too, you always miss the moment when one of the small toy elves drops from the ceiling to land with a hard plastic SLAP on the floor of the warehouse. Did the giant elf drop it? That can't be right. It doesn't happen often or with any predictability, but now and then another little elf drops from the rafters, though you could have sworn there was nothing up there but the light fixtures and that terrible grinning giant. The little elves do relocate if they're not watched, setting up camp on shelves and among boxes to stare at the ADI intruders.

The warehouse has been more than halfway cleared out, but there are still dozens of worn cardboard boxes stacked up for storage. Inside are cans of spray paint, more elves, packages of string lights with the brand name Illumination Rite…and quite the variety of strange and dangerous artifacts.

While ADI's higher-ups would prefer not to solve this problem with arson (there are neighboring warehouses that would undoubtedly go up in flames if this one were set ablaze), all of this Eye stuff has got to go. The most capable field agents will perform an initial sweep to secure the building and identify its contents and likely threats, after which others will be brought in to dismantle and remove anything supernatural. Hazmat gear has been provided, though it may not be effective against all artifacts' effects, and the plan is to load everything up in company vehicles and take it back to headquarters to be studied and then systematically destroyed (though, naturally, onsite destruction of artifacts has been authorized in cases of emergency or inability to transport the items).

And someone needs to get that damned ELF out of the rafters.

➥ 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!
THE MERRY MARE OF WINTERMAS (20-25 December) - Players are welcome to come up with the Merry Mare's riddles. They should be incredibly challenging-to-impossible to answer. If giving out an impossible riddle, characters may use their wits to come up with a solution that she may accept. Her riddles will grow increasingly even more difficult/impossible as she visits your character. If she attacks, she can be seemingly 'killed' with her bones vanishing upon her 'death.' She will appear the next night to stalk others and drag them into her games, though. She will appear to characters a maximum of 6 times over the course of her reign of terror. If asked about anything other than the riddles she will not answer. If pressed, she will simply attack those who will not play her games. As soon as a riddle is answered, she will vanish into the night, galloping away. In addition to the difficulty of the riddles, one or both characters may experience an inexplicable anxiety centered on being put on the spot.
LAMP OF THE BODY (17th December) - Characters can partake in the destruction of the church either behind the scenes or on site at the church itself. Those digging into the church will need to work through various kinds of security, but they will eventually discover some of their dirtier dealings in the forms of money moved, people blackmailed, and others now suspiciously gone missing. If characters are intending to smear the church’s name or simply share the truth, players are encouraged to submit what their characters are saying or how they go about it in the comment below for future news needs; however, you may proceed with your ideas without having them approved by mods! This is just for our edification and incorporation into future things. Those heading into the church proper will be faced with heavy resistance. The congregation is mostly older women and some men, but they’re armed and loyal. All NPC fights and interactions can be player-controlled for threads. Generally, the congregation will fight to seriously wound or kill, but some can simply be subdued without killing. The deacon twins are clever and fast, but they’re not exactly fighters. Still, they’ll get in the way of anyone attempting to stop the sacrifice in the back room. Father Sullivan is a mean and quick shot, but again only human. Greta Thomas, while older and largely uninterested in physical altercation, heals quickly and has the Eye in her corner. She will try to incapacitate people through the fears of their secrets or previous failures and mistakes. Her general tactic is to mentally trip up ADI members so Father Sullivan can dispatch them. All throughout the backrooms, characters will have the heavy sensation of being watched and the quiet judgment of every eye-shaped decoration and carving in the building.
HE SEES YOU (19th December) - The toy elves do not appear to actively do anything other than relocate when unobserved, but being watched by them will induce increasing feelings of paranoia. If taken apart, they are nothing but felt, plastic, and stuffing; the feeling of being watched will not abate until their eyes have been completely destroyed. When characters begin rounding up the elves to destroy them or box them up, the elves will attempt to escape the warehouse when they are not being watched. The Illumination Rite lights will have no effect unless plugged in; if they are taken out of their packages and plugged in they may cause characters to blurt out a secret against their will, or may cause characters to feel as though a figure has just appeared behind them and is watching them. All items that appeared in the player plot "The Eyes Have It? Not if we can help it!" function as described in that plot's OOC post.

↬ Main Navigation

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They could be rehabilitated. We don't know what happened to them that they ended up here." The sincerity is positively dripping from her voice.

It's at that moment that another congregation member - a very old woman, this time - runs at them and swings a baseball bat towards Caitlyn. She manages to swing the butt of her rifle around to catch the bat before it hits her, but only barely.

As Caitlyn catches the bat with the butt of her rifle, Hickey rushes towards the woman, swerving past Caitlyn to take a slash at the old woman. He manages to nick her on the arm, but she very quickly turns her attention (and her bat) to him. And while Hickey may be quick on his feet and good with a knife, if it's a knife versus bat fight, he's going to lose.

He lets out a yelp and tries to dodge out of the way of her next swing, which clocks him hard on the shoulder instead.

Caitlyn swings the rifle around and aims at the old woman, but hesitates. She looks like someone who Caitlyn would help across the street, not a violent attacker. Except that, well, she is absolutely trying to kill Hickey with a baseball bat.

The crack of the bat hitting Hickey's shoulder finally galvanizes Caitlyn into action. She shoots the old woman in the hand, which results in a spray of blood as the woman screams and drops the bat. And then immediately makes a run at Caitlyn, trying to snatch the rifle out of her hands.

Hickey doesn't hesitate. His shoulder is slightly fucked up and throbbing like hell but thankfully, not broken. He can still act. So he darts forward, placing himself in between Caitlyn and the woman as he brings his knife up to stab her, repeatedly in the chest. Blood is splattering on his face and clothes but he doesn't care. He just wants her dead.

And soon enough, she is. As she slumps to the ground, Hickey turns his attention back to Caitlyn.

"Aim for the head next time," he snarls, moving his free hand to his shoulder as he winces with pain. He should definitely get that looked at.

Caitlyn is no less horrified watching Hickey slaughter the old woman than she was watching him slaughter the other congregation member. But she does her best to compose herself, square off her shoulders, and frown intently. All to hide how out of her depth she feels.

"We ought to at least attempt to subdue them before stabbing them in the chest. They could be turned to our side, they could be questioned..."

"And how d'you think they'll join our side?" he points out, wincing still. Fuck, this is throbbing. "What do we have that's better than whatever their cult is promising them?"

"We've no expectation that they die for an evil cause, for a start. They probably don't even know what they're fighting for. If we just explained it to them..."

Hickey's clearly hurt, and Caitlyn, upset and unsettled as she is, doesn't like to see anybody hurt.

She glances around to make sure they're not in immediate danger of being pounced by another old woman before giving Hickey's shoulder a cursory examination. She quickly but gently runs her hand over the shoulder joint, making sure there's nothing protruding under the skin.

"I don't think it's dislocated, but she could have fractured a bone. You ought to see a doctor about it as soon as you can."

There's nothing protruding, thank God. But Hickey visibly winces when Caitlyn touches him. Whatever this is, it's going to leave a hell of a bruise.

"I'm fine," he grumbles. "If I'm still upright, I can still fight."

She frowns skeptically at him.

"You could injure it more severely if you don't rest."

There's absolutely no guile whatsoever in that. She's not trying to manipulate him into not killing anybody else, she just thinks he's an idiot who's going to hurt himself more.

Unfortunately for Caitlyn, Hickey is indeed an idiot. He's looking at the fight, obviously wanting to go in there and give them a piece of his mind, indulge in the fighting and the chaos. But his shoulder still hurts and he doesn't want to actually go to the hospital and annoyingly, he realizes she's right.

"Fine. I'll meet back up with those at the perimeter." And he gives Caitlyn a smirk of a grin before, "Don't have too much fun here without me."

That earns a frown.

"This isn't fun." She's having the opposite of fun.

"It is to me," he grins. Hickey is absolutely buying what the Hunt is selling. And this? Tracking down prey, going in to strike, it's fun in a way he's never thought of before.

"How can you say that?" People are dying, she can't image how any of this could be considered fun.

"Easily. Just said it." He shrugs a little, realizes oh no wait that makes his shoulder hurt, and winces slightly, putting his hand back to it as he deliberately does not shrug this time.

"What, d'you expect me to feel sympathy for the people trying to kill us? That's not going to happen. As far as I'm concerned, this is ADI letting me stretch my legs and do what's needed. No more sneaking around, time for direct action."

Direct action. That's a sentiment she can agree with, at least, but the rest of what he's saying is all but incomprehensible.

"No, I--" She scowls in frustration. "You haven't even the least bit of curiosity as to why they're trying to kill us? Or how they found themselves here?"

"The why's probably the same as it always is," he shrugs. "Some Entity's fucked with their head and there's not much we can do to de-fuck them."

"You really think they're so far gone that nothing can be done to help them short of killing them?"

"Has anything you've seen proven different?"

"Nothing I've seen as proven they are," she says with a slight shrug.

Yes, the congregation has attempted to kill them, but, well, they did burst in here with weapons.

Event - Blind Spot

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject