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Event - Feeling Faint

Feeling Faint

➥ Flicker

Photo of a wild rooftop garden with a city skyline in the background.
(cw: Alterations in reality and perception, chance for violence or injury, potential chance of loss of name or other pieces of a character’s identity, depending on conversations with NPC)

Somewhere, deep in ADI’s basement, there’s a meadow in a metal room. That room has a door that always stays locked. Yet, after a couple visitors come by to talk to the inhabitant of that room, that door is unlocked and the meadow vanishes along with the inhabitant.

It isn’t a quick thing, no light switch is flicked announcing the change in the status quo, it’s an irregular thing. One day everything is as it should be and then, for an hour, all of the illusions and glamours making every non-human seem human simply vanishes. Then it’s two hours. Then a whole day. Then it’s only flickers now and then or only portions of a body left unchanged, all interspersed with days where nothing seems to happen at all. Like someone’s playing a game. Something that leaves the locals on edge as ‘monster’ sightings increase and send a ripple of fear and doubt through town. Fear and doubt that is sometimes answered in unkindness at best and violence and fear at worse.

Though, who the sadistic someone is might be difficult to pinpoint for those outside of the know. Anyone who goes looking or has ways of sensing where the fluctuations are coming from might come across a handsome stranger perched atop one of the now-vacant warehouses once used by Oculus where a rich carpet of grass and tumbling ivy now overtakes the roof and spills down the sides.

For the brave or curious or angry at heart, the stranger will turn to their visitor with a small, knowing smile from where they’re sat in their meadow, a flower crown in hand and held out like an offering. “Hello, who do we have here, then?”

➥ Feint

Photo of a forested area around a crimson red river.
(cw: extreme distress, hallucinations, supernaturally heightened emotions, blood, monstrous creatures, potential for violence and death)

"Please! Please"--your name, someone is shouting your name--"I need- please! Help!" The voice is a familiar one, someone you care for, or at least have no negative feelings about. They might be someone you've met here in Gloucester, or they could be someone from home. They're distressed, they're in Dogtown. You only hear them as you travel around the edges of the park. And there are even glimpses of them. Flashes of a face that seems to belong to the person who's shouting.

Even if you're wary, sensibly so, the pitch, the distress, puts some sort of feeling into you. Fear, perhaps, for the 'person' in danger? Anger that someone would try to impersonate someone you love? Hopelessness that you can't actually do anything to help? The emotion fills your belly, wells up like a tide and crashes through the mind. It's not impossible to resist going into Dogtown, but it's certainly difficult.

Those who get any substantial distance, will note that they seem to be drawn deeper and deeper into the wood and that the ground grows moist and ruddy. The scent of iron fills the nose and senses. Those who have a sense of Dogtown as it is now may be able to tell that they're being drawn toward the blood river in the southern reaches of the park. Getting closer, you'll be able to see a creature shambling along sideways on clawed and webbed feet. It swings a lantern from its head that flashes to look like the person you know now and again. The false form shouts in fear and terror, crying out.

Should the creature spot you spotting it… be prepared. It will attack immediately, and it doesn't seem to pull its bites or slashes. While ordinary means are enough to bring it down, there is definitely more than one creature. Perhaps a brood has recently hatched in the river.

➥ Figment

White billboard with the words This Ad Is Real written in black and red block font.
(cw: hallucination, altered mental states, gaslighting)

There's a face that keeps turning up around town, but it's not really clear who it is. It's a Caucasian, mustachioed gentleman who seems to be in books where he doesn't belong, in the background of photographs, both old and new, and even on advertisements. You might notice him only in a few things at first, but once you clock him… he's everywhere.

Inquiries into his identity net a mixed response from locals. He's just… some man. Nice mustache, though! Does he look a little like Matthew McConaughey? He just looks like another New Englander, maybe some founder for Gloucester? A reverse image search yields much the same results. There are actors and models who look vaguely like this man, but no one that definitively matches him.

The strange thing is that as you see him more and more, there's the feeling of a hand gently touching your shoulder. A large, masculine hand, as far as anyone with particularly acute senses can tell. It only lasts a moment, and then it's gone. You can never turn fast enough to see anyone, and they don't appear in any mirrors; though… there's a mild distortion in the air if you manage to glimpse a reflection somehow.

Those touched by the hand of the mustachioed man will find themselves feeling more and more inclined toward mischief. Have you seen the mustachioed man? No, no, you haven't. When shown photos including him, you might be inclined to lie and say you see someone else entirely. It's just a little mean. With things in Gloucester spinning out of control, perhaps you ought to grasp control where you can. Making someone doubt themselves and their reality? That's one of the most powerful forms of control out there.

➥ 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! You're welcome to make up any details for your specific scene. Also, please remember that character deaths are permanent and plan accordingly!
FLICKER (16 August - Potentially Onward) - Players are welcome to control their own NPC interactions. Some might be understanding or come to their defense while others might turn a blind or turn to violence. These moments of violence shouldn’t be outright mobs so much as small groups close to a mugging that only happen once and a while, not a certainty. Characters will have the chance to talk to Milo and either convince them to continue the illusions or drop them entirely, what happens with the illusions from an IC standpoint will depend entirely on these interactions, so if you tag into Milo’s interaction, please make sure that thread is prioritized.
FEINT (16-23 August) - The monstrous creatures can be killed with enough bullets or other normally lethal methods. The figures they mimic will be perfect copies of characters who will elicit strong emotions in your characters. The only limit on who these can be would be for characters already in games. Please just get the other player's permission. If two characters are together, the creature will only mimic one important person. The mimicked individual will provide reasonable (if terrified) responses to questions that are shouted at them.
FIGMENT (16-31 August) - Characters will be able to find plenty of people who look vaguely like the mustachioed man, but efforts to track them down will lead to dead ends. They seem to be ordinary actors, models, and people who have had their photos show up on an image search. Characters trying to investigate the strange happenings in Gloucester and the surrounding area, particularly Dogtown, will find themselves seeing the man more often than others. They'll also suffer the effects of the man's 'touch.' Characters who feel compelled to gaslight and deceive others will be affected until they take out that impulse on someone. It doesn't need to be anyone they care about; though, that makes it feel better somehow. Individuals aligned with the Spiral may find themselves feeling particularly well fed for the month of August on fear juice.

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She unsheathes the dirk she'd brought with her and eyes up the fence before looking to- Steven? Mr. Rogers. Mercy's brow furrows in momentary confusion as her mind skips over his name. Something is... off in her head. She's not sure what though. It just feels wrong somehow.

But there are more pressing matters.

"You think we should get over there? I don't like the idea of any normal people going wandering. Too much like them kids playing at being ghosts."

He nods; "Agreed. At least we know to be prepared for something that's more than a harmless prank."

So it's better for them to head it off, and the sooner the better. "Did you see anything actionable? I only caught it out of the corner of my eye, and... I'm not actually sure what I saw."

He'd thought it was a person, but now he's not so sure.

"It was definitely someone. I-"

There's the voice again. Mercy distinctly hears them calling Mr. Rogers' name. And then there's a hand, someone reaching out before being dragged back into the undergrowth with a crash. Mercy's heart jumps to her throat.

"Sir, we gotta go- We need to go." She moves toward the chain link fence, ready to start climbing in spite of the barbed wire at the top. There's a wash of helplessness that runs through her. She needs to do something. But what can she do?"

He sees it, too - and he's rushing in right after her, because she's right. They need to go. They need to do something. "Hang on - " He sees that barbed wire at the top. He's got a small canvas bag with him, it's not very big, but he starts emptying it anyway. "Here, throw this over the wire. Do you need a boost?"

"I'll take it." Because she's not so proud as to refuse the help when they're both trying to get over this quickly. They can only go one at a time. Might as well make her climb faster and easier. She steps into whatever boost Rogers offers with the practiced ease of a younger sister very used to doing this with her big brother. For all that they'd fought as youngsters, they'd been thick as thieves in many of their games and endeavors.

As soon as she's over, she waits for the other man, but that sense of helplessness persists. They need to do something. She needs to do something or that person is going to be lost forever. Mercy pulls out her dirk and holds it at the ready, watching the trees for movement. "Stay close, sir. Think it's- they're over there!"

It doesn't take long to get them both over; he doesn't have a weapon on him, Mjolnir's not exactly something you just carry around, but even without super strength, he's got a lot of experience with hand to hand. And it usually comes down to that, in the end.

His eyes scan the treeline, and he sees it too. Sees the flash of movement, hears the voice again, and -

"Shit. Tony?" The voice had been muddy before, pinging the back of his brain, but now it's suddenly clear: It's Tony, who'd disappeared from ADI months ago now. Who he hadn't been able to find, or save, not here, not back home -

He glances at Mercy, eyes wide, desperation in every line of his body. "Stay together. In visual range."

But then, of course, he takes off for the source of the movement and the sound, assuming she'll follow along.

Edited (Whoops trying not to use his name anymore :3) 2023-09-18 02:59 (UTC)

She has a chance to ask, "Mr. Stark?" before they're off. Mercy's quick on her feet, chasing after her companion. He's faster than her, but she manages to keep him in sight between the trees. Trees which seem to be growing thicker as they plunge deeper into the woods of Dogtown.

"Get a move on, Capsicle!" Tony's voice demands in a terrified shout. "Trouble's happening, or did you- hgh! Miss that?!"

Mercy calls to Rogers. "Wait- wait, sir! I'm starting to lose you!" Starting to fall more behind as that sense of helpless dread overwhelms her, distracts, causes her to lose sight of the man for longer stretches.

"Tony - wait - !" he calls, stumbling after the voice, clearly not taking his own advice until he hears Mercy call out.

Even then, it's another several seconds of chasing Tony's voice before Rogers' head finally turns toward her, trying to gauge how far she is even as he doesn't slow down. And maybe that's why he trips on something - or does something trip him? - and goes tumbling ass over teakettle for a moment, swearing loudly. At least it slows him down enough for her to catch up, but he's already trying to find his footing. "I just saw Tony," he says, voice tight. "Or was it - something's got him -"

Thank the gods! She sees him pulling himself up and is able to reach him, grab his arm.

"Okay! Okay, but we gotta stick together, Mr. Rogers." That feels... wrong? Is that his name? She can't place what it ought to be, though, which is entirely disconcerting. Mercy shakes off that thought. "There! To the-" She doesn't have time to gauge cardinal directions. "Over that way, I think!"

She can be useful. She needs to be useful. Maybe he won't leave her behind, then?

Edited 2023-10-07 20:40 (UTC)

He follows her gaze, body tensing. He sees the movement; but this time, before he moves, his hand twists to grip her arm, too, and then he's off again, tugging her with. He hadn't meant to leave her behind, certainly doesn't think she's useless. He just tends to go haring off on his own.

But she's right. They should stick together. He should know better, especially here. There's another flash of movement, Tony's voice: "Cap!"

He sounds harried. In trouble? Steve tries to pick up speed. "Something's wrong."

Understatement of the year, he thinks, as the ground starts getting spongy, muddy under their feet. It slows him down and he curses.

Mercy feels her feet sink into the muck and the scent of iron fills her nose. On one near fall, her hand goes to the ground to brace herself and push up again. When she raises it, it's not just the brown of the mud she's expected, but the rusty red of blood, as well.

"Rogers. Mr. Rogers. Rogers." She uses her grip to try to halt him. "I think- there's blood. Too much blood here. Mr. Rodney and Mr. Sheppard talked about a river filled with blood. We-we need to be more careful."

Blood? He stumbles to a clumsy, reluctant halt at the tug, glancing back at her, trying to make her words make sense.

But they do make sense, especially in a place like this, where sometimes nothing makes sense. Plus, now that they're stopped... he realizes she's right. There's blood all around them - soaking into the ground. Assaulting his sense of smell.

It's familiar and revolting all at once. "A river of blood?" he asks, because of course, he's out of the ADI loop. "What did they - what do you know?"

He's listening - he is - even as he scans the treeline for Tony. For the creature that has him. They can't stop long.

"Not much. Just that it's there. And the stars in Dogtown can drive you mad." Because that's what she remembers most about that post from the pair. "Mr. Martin and I- Oh... Oh, I remember this! I know what this is." She hadn't put two-and-two together, but thinking of Martin and the submarine twigs that memory.

"Mr. Rogers, I don't think that's your friend out there. It-it's some sort of fish thing that's luring us."

"Everything in Dogtown can drive you mad," he mutters, half-dismayed, but he also means it, because it sure seems true.

And he perks up when she clearly remembers something, even if it makes him frown. "Fish thing - " His eyes dart toward the place he last saw it, and it's then, as if on cue, that Tony's voice comes, strangled, from the darkened woods: "Cap!"

He tenses again, but holds his ground. Looks to Mercy. He wants to believe her, but that voice -

"What - we should make sure. We have to be sure."

Then, "I have to be sure. I can't ask you to keep going."

"If you're going, I'm going." She holds tighter to his hand. "But we go quiet, sneak up on it. No running in willy nilly. We gotta be smart. If it's them things again, we need to catch 'em by surprise and not attract attention. Can you be quiet and careful?"

He looks like he wants to argue - but he doesn't. Instead, he takes a slow breath, like he's steadying himself, and says, "Yes. I can."

But before they do: "Do you know anything about how to take one of these creatures down?"

"Aye. I killed one of them with Mr. Martin. My dirk worked fine against it. Any weapon would, I reckon. You got one on you?" Apart from his... fists? She's not sure they can punch the thing to death.

He lets out a breath - he does not, and the grimace on his face should probably make that pretty obvious. He does tend to rely on punching things, which admittedly does not work as well as a regular, run-of-the-mill human, albeit a big one.

He hadn't brought Mjolnir, because Winter gives him these looks whenever he pulls out the hammer. Now he's kind of regretting it, though.

So he glances around and - there. He jogs a short distance away, picks up a fallen, dead branch, gives it a swing or two. It's a little awkward, but it'll do. "I do now."

There's a breathless moment where she's hurled back years to another time, another place. Ciaran, bloodied and panting hard after his battle with one of the Abbot's minions out in the woods. She'd watched the young man, who'd tried so hard to put the violence of his past behind him, plant his foot on a downed log and wrench one of the thick branches free. They'd been marching to war on Evergreen Abbey, then.

This is difference. While Steve vaguely reminds her of Ciaran with his build, his fair hair and complexion are a far cry from the other man's darker tones.

Mercy tries to push that aside and focus on the present. "Okay. We're ready." She starts moving ahead slowly, creeping through the bushes. The sound of Tony calls distantly ahead, but as they draw closer, it stays where it is. Eventually, they come to the edge of the trees.

There, standing in the meadow near a rust red river is a monstrous fish-like creature. It has legs with massive claws and atop its head is a stalk with a humanoid figure that looks very much like Tony Stark. The creature bounces its stalk and the thing on the end of it calls out again. "What's a guy gotta do to get some service around here? Cap!"

Rogers maybe watches Mercy for an extra second or two, before they start off. She'd been looking at him with a strange look on her face - but she seems to pull herself together, and they have a monster to catch, so he dismisses it to ask about later, if at all.

It doesn't seem to slow her down, and they come upon the monster soon enough. Now that he knows what it is, he doesn't rush forward, but even knowing what it is -

"Well. That's disturbing," he says, quietly: The not-Tony on a stalk, still talking with Tony's voice, Tony's face.... Even knowing it's a trick, there's some little part that hits him as wrong and twisted.

And it just makes him angry. And want to end this.

"I'll go high if you go low?" he asks, voice still quiet, thinking she's faster and better armed. He'll be better as a distraction - and ideally do a little damage along the way.

Mercy nods. "Count of three?" She waits for a sign of assent before gripping her blade tighter. "One. Two... Three!"

The young woman bursts from their hiding spot, racing toward the creature while keeping low and aiming for its belly.

She gets it, and he tenses, ready to go - and on three, he goes, aiming to be the biggest, loudest target he can be to give Mercy the chance to do some real damage.

Which means he yells at the top of his lungs and jumps for what passes for the things head, making himself look anywhere but the weird, disturbing Tony-likeness even as he swings the branch like a baseball bat and it connects with the stalk, making a sickening thunk.

At least he's still good at this kind of fighting, he thinks, winding up for another hit and trying to stay out of range of any flailing limbs or claws, and keep an eye on what Mercy's doing at the same time.

Rogers hits the thing solidly, pulling the monster's attention enough that Mercy can slash her dirk low, carving open a deep gash on its side as it flails, its stalk cracking and drooping. The fake Tony curls in on itself, becoming a fleshy lump with something that vaguely resembles his face, frozen in a rictus of abject horror.

The creature turns from Rogers and tries to simply swallow Mercy, but she's able to dodge out of the way.

"It's trying to eat us whole! Be on your guard!"

That is - Jesus, just when Rogers thinks things can't get more horrifying.

He still knows it's not Tony; it's still hard not to see the familiar lines of his face, even in the twisted, unreal thing it's become.

He doesn't hesitate or pause or even falter so much as just - have a normal, human startle reaction to that kind of thing. Fortunately, the thing's attention isn't on him for that moment, but it means Mercy's still left vulnerable, until he snaps out of it and swings the branch as hard as he can into the side of its... jaw. Area.

"Hey!" he calls, because he's supposed to be the distraction. "Hey, Tony, you might want to fire your plastic surgeon."

Well. That seems to have gotten its attention. Fortunately, he's at least a little bigger and ideally harder to swallow than Mercy. He hopes she can regroup with that blade of hers. "Hit it again," he calls to her, because it's definitely hurting. They have the advantage. He hopes.

Rogers' hits land hard and very effectively distract it. As it whips around to him again, Mercy makes to strike, it but one of its fins catches her and she's buffeted to the ground as the creature goes for her companion.

"Rogers!" It's a panicked cry as the monster opens its mouth and attempts to swallow the man down into the void of its gullet.

Event - Feeling Faint

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omg I'm so sorry for the delay ;;

no worries!

<33

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cw: body horror

Re: cw: body horror

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