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apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-16 08:32 am
Event - A Little Perspective
The citizens of Gloucester are abuzz with talk of the new town square in the heart of the city. After some miserable few months… years(?) for some of the citizenry, it's a welcome spark of joy. The prize at the center of the square is a perfect replica of Gloucester set upon a large stone slab for people to view and enjoy. Some small festivities have been set up around the square. Food carts with tasty local offerings–it's a lot of seafood–and hawkers looking to sell jewelry, paintings, and other sundries.
The new town square, itself, is bracketed by the General's Store on one side, other tourist-type shops on two others, and an open park field with benches and plenty of shade trees on the other side. There are planters with gorgeous new flowers and everything has a shining, new feeling to it. Ring out the end of summer with the tiny bells that adorn the mini-clocktower in the replica city!
(cw: altered perception of reality, existential crisis, possible starvation, isolation)
The disappearances don’t happen all at once, but they do take place over the course of a few, unremarkable, hours. One by one, seven people step through a door, cross a street, or go to investigate the brand new replica of Gloucester unveiled in the middle of town and vanish.
Except, to them, they don’t. It’s everyone else who vanishes. Whatever path they were on goes uninterrupted, but every other soul is gone, leaving the streets eerily silent. Perhaps you can find each other through calling out or through chance, but it seems only a few others have been left behind.
It’s not just the lack of anyone else that’s off. It’s there in the very sky, a fog-filled horizon leaves little else to see even from the tallest building in the city…if you’re lucky. Where there should be stars or roads or trees beyond the confines of the city, there are unimaginably massive shadows, creatures that loom and shift and seem to occasionally try to stretch their dark and foggy forms down to grab for people who stay outside too long. Surely inside will be safer.
And, for the most part, it is. There’s no running water, no food that isn’t made of plastic, and only the weak yellow glow of lights that seem to come on and off every few hours without any switches or plugs to be seen. Except then there’s the nightmares. There’s no rhyme or reason, no indication of which building will hold the nightmarish scenario that plays out. The only certain thing is that there’s seven of them…and they’re oddly specific, as though tailor made to one individual. Hopefully a friend or stranger can be the voice of reason needed to see you through, but even facing your fears doesn’t seem to set things right. If anything, as time goes on, it only seems to make the shadows get more agitated. More creative…
(cw: gaslighting, potential for sadism, potential for large-scale destruction and injury/death, body horror, nausea, vertigo, supernaturally induced dread)
For those fortunate enough not to be sucked into the miniature town at the center of Gloucester, there's still more than enough trouble to go around. Mainly, the matter of getting people out of the town, whether they be friends or strangers. You might notice the little figures darting about the replica streets or banging at the tiny windows of buildings. Unfortunate that most (or maybe all) of them run in terror at the sight of you when you try to reach out and the sound of you when you make to run.
Most ordinary people walking by don't seem to notice anything amiss like you do. To them, it's just a quaint little attraction to view for a few minutes and then move on. The people trapped within it go unnoticed or unremarked. Even some of the people who work for ADI can't see it, like they have some sort of blindspot that you lack.
Regardless, there's the matter of rescue (or torment for the more sadistic persons out there). The tiny town, itself is designed in such a manner as to make access to the deeper portions of it challenging. The raised platform and general size makes it all but impossible for anyone under 8 feet tall to actually reach the center of the town without having to climb up onto it. And that… has rather dire ramifications. Those seeking to simply pull apart the town or climb onto it with little regard to the structures will find that any time they disturb or destroy a structure, they have a sinking, horrible feeling in the pit of their stomach. If it's a building that's near to where they are, they might even hear the sound of the real structure in Gloucester buckling and breaking as people scream and flee. Some unnatural force seems to be destroying their town and they have no explanation for it. You do, though. You know exactly what you've done. Perhaps you'll even hear about the injured and dead the next time you happen to read, listen to, or watch the news.
With wanton destruction a less-than-ideal solution to get to the darting figures in the town, that leaves a few other solutions. You could gather a team of people to help you corral the figures. If your hands aren't enough, perhaps others will be. The figures are far faster than they should be when they're that tiny or maybe it's that you're having trouble perceiving the depth of the place and where they are in space. In any case… more hands.
Or, maybe you'll go for a more creative option. If hands won't work, then some tape or netting or other traps might slow your quarry down enough to snatch. Perhaps you're even the sort to construct elaborate, Rube Goldberg-style contraptions to catch the tiny figures without hurting them. Much.
Emotion might rule the day for you instead. If you can just find some way to communicate that you're not a danger, that you're there to help, maybe that would have the figure willing to approach you, to climb into your hand of their own accord. It's maybe the kindest and least terrifying route, but it's also likely to take the longest, and time is of the essence.
At least once you manage to pull a rescued person past a seeming threshold, they transform very suddenly into their full-sized self with all the pain, nausea, and vertigo that comes with the sensation of your body exploding from within. The sense of being too large may persist for just a few hours or up to several days for the particularly unlucky.
Those who spend long enough observing the tiny town will note that there is a small timer affixed to one of the buildings where a billboard is in the real Gloucester. It is steadily counting down and it carries with it a sense of impending doom. When the clock strikes zero, the entire display will simply vanish from the center of Gloucester, like it was never there. Anyone still trapped within will also vanish. All references in newspapers and news stories from the past few weeks will vanish.
Was it ever really there? Most ordinary people don't seem to think so. What an interesting suggestion. Maybe you should let the mayor know. A tiny version of Gloucester sounds like it would be a lovely little attraction in the new town square!
(cw: altered mental states; compulsion; painful transformation; dehumanization; being hunted; potential for violence, injury, and death, including gun violence)
There's a restless feeling about ADI headquarters, a strange sort of readiness and tension growing under the day to day office drudgery one always experiences in a lull between major crises. It's an itch in the back of one's mind, a half-noticed shift like the scent of blood carried on a distant wind. The longer the feeling lingers, the more unbearably dull all the paperwork and research and so forth becomes.
Then, all at once, it comes into focus. For some, it's sharp pain followed by a sudden feeling of terror, the knowledge that you are among predators that mean you harm. For others, it's that scent growing sharp and strong the moment you spot your prey.
The prey are easily spotted, at least within the bounds of ADI property, where Milo's glamour doesn't hide nonhumans and not-quite-humans from one another. The change is often small but always unmistakeable: a set of horns or antlers sprouting from one's head, still bloody from their sudden extrusion; the long ears of a rabbit, quivering with the effort to hear the hunters' approach; feathers that ripple out along one's arms in a mockery of wings; or the silky tail of a fox or mink, the mark of a predator long turned prey at the hands of humans. Any who find themselves marked as prey undergo one or more of these small transformations, gaining characteristics that clearly mark them as one of many animals traditionally considered to be game for hunting or trapping.
And if you're not prey? That makes you the hunter. The compulsion to hunt is overwhelming from the moment you spot a coworker, roommate, or even a dear friend marked as prey. Perhaps you're sly about it and set traps, or stalk them from afar. Or perhaps they run and you simply can't resist the urge to chase. What you'll do if you catch them…well, that depends on one's personality, or perhaps on luck. Maybe you'll snap out of it long enough to let them go. Maybe you'll try to lock them up–for their own good, of course, until you work out how to fix this. Or maybe just chasing them down isn't enough to satisfy the urge–the most obsessed hunters might attack, maul, or even shoot their prey if nothing stops them.
Everyone feels it, though. Anyone who isn't marked as prey will feel the compulsion to hunt when they see someone who is, and it simply will not stop as long as the mark remains. Even outside of ADI, normal citizens will even start to react the same way to something they can't even see through the glamour. The only way to end this curse is to remove the animal feature that grew from you–whether that's sawing off a pair of antlers or chopping off a tail.
Good luck…and good hunting.
- 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!
- SMALL FEARS (16-19 September) - Characters trapped in the tiny town will notice the buildings themselves, while sturdy and able to hold their weight, aren’t exactly built to code, almost like they’re made of various craft supplies and short cuts, even if the end result is very convincing. There’s no food or water in the tiny town, but enterprising characters might be able to collect dew outside and survive a little longer that way. Each character has their own ‘nightmare room’ across the various buildings in town and they won’t be able to escape their own nightmare room without someone else’s help. How they get out of the town through the various efforts of those outside is up to the individual player, but anyone still left in town after four days will either die of lack of resources or from the miniature town’s collapse. Please remember that death is permanent.
- BIG FEARS (16-19 September) - Players on the outside are welcome to enact as much destruction and mayhem on Gloucester and its citizens as they would like via the tiny town. Please just let the mods know on the OOC Post in the section dedicated to Town Destruction and Damage so that we can make note of it for future events/the final chapter of the game. Characters that destroy the town will sense the weight of what they've done, even if they don't see or hear the immediate effects. It feels bad to destroy the tiny town. Players are also welcome to come up with creative rescue solutions. The only limitations are that the tiny characters will not be able to understand their speech or anything written for them, so another form of communication may need to be found that doesn't use language.
- ONE FEAR (16-30 September) - Players are free to choose any variety of animal features beyond the ones listed, so long as a.) the feature is linked to an animal traditionally hunted and b.) the change is a discrete feature that can be removed, however painfully. Characters with animal features will find that everyone, not just offworlders and people within ADI, seem to feel the same compulsion to hunt them down until the feature is removed.
Re: post-rescue
He's quiet a long moment, then asks, "Where was it. That place." Was it theirs? Was it Stevie's family's? Was it his?
Re: post-rescue (lemme know if this headcanon doesn't work!)
Honestly, it had sometimes felt like he and Bucky were the only ones living there, with Steve's mother so often working late or picking up extra shifts. At least, until she'd gotten sick.
He hadn't been able to afford it on his own for long after she'd died, but Bucky had been over a lot then, too, for as long as he'd had it.
no complaints here!
He's not that person. But he still has that person's pieces. And Stevie. He has him.
"Tell me about her," he says after another long pause. "Your. Ma." That, he doesn't think he has pieces of. Or if he does, he doesn't know it.
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He gets back to work, but starts talking, too. "Raised me herself, 'cause my dad was killed in the Great War before I was born. I couldn't miss him, but she did. She was a nurse, so she worked long hours and into the night a lot; I was pretty good at taking care of myself, except when I'd get sick. Then she'd ask if you could come over and keep me company."
He pauses, then laughs a little, clearly sheepish. "She was Irish - born in Ireland. Spoke Gaelic and English. She told me a lot of bedtime stories that I probably should've heeded a little better, as you know." Given what happened with their 'friend' Milo.
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"Is that why I knew? About the faerie name thing?" he asks, thinking that at least made sense. He had other sources of that lore, himself, though: lots of books read, and his own dad's stories.
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He half-smiles, visible given that the lower half of his face isn't too deep into their (admittedly rather shallow) cabinets. "Maybe you got it from all three, and that's why you definitely remembered."
Although Rogers himself was never particularly good at heeding warnings, either way.
"She liked you, though. My ma," he adds. "Knew you had three times as much common sense as I did, at least. She probably hoped hanging around you would give me a little more."
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"No," he agrees, and now that half-smile is a whole smile. "No, it really did not. Although not for lack of trying on either of your parts. I'm just very stubborn."
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Not that he's not pretty reckless sometimes himself, these days.
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His grin turns softer, though, and while he could keep teasing, he also feels like it's maybe more important to say, "I appreciate that you keep trying."
Well. Actually. "I love that you keep trying. I don't know if it'll work, but... it means a lot."
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And this would be a great time for a hug, or a hand, or something. But here he is, still on the other side of the kitchen from him, and he can't quite make himself move.
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"Me, either," he says, offering Winter a smile that's small, maybe a little careful, but that's not because of Winter. It's because he knows how hard this place is going to make it. But he doesn't meant it any less. Honestly, he means it even more, after - well. Everything, from what happened where he came from to everything that's happened here. "Guess we're stuck with each other."
He means that in the best possible way.
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Then: "Are you almost done." Maybe if they're both sitting down he can manage a hand. Or at least a wrist. Or maybe a foot bump. Surely he can be stronger than this thing trying to pull him away from his people. Than his own brain.
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At the question, he blinks, then glances inside the cabinet and back out again. "Yeah. Actually, I can be done now." He pulls himself fully away from the cabinet and sets the tools down on the counter, sliding off carefully but still not approaching. "Should I come sit?" He thinks that's why Winter asked, but best to make sure.
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At the very least, if they're both sitting on the same piece of furniture, he might be more likely to manage some kind of touching.
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He'd offer for Winter to go first, but just as he's raising his arm to make a bit of an after you motion, he realizes that if he goes first, it gives Winter more control over the situation - because Winter can decide how close or far to sit. So, Rogers precedes him into the living room and takes up residence on one end of the couch, leaning against the arm and not exactly trying not to take up space, but trying to make it clear that he won't move closer or crowd Winter, wherever he chooses to sit.
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He can't. He wants to, but he can't make himself turn around and sit down.
But what he does do is sit sideways against the other arm of the couch and stretch his heavily-socked feet out to tuck against Stevie's thigh. This is... unobjectionable, it seems like. It might not be great for Stevie, but it's what he's getting for now.
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It's better than finding Winter in their closet.
He offers Winter a broad smile and carefully settles his hand onto his own thigh, pinky almost touching his toes but not quite, and just... relaxes into the couch, hoping Winter will be able to do the same. "We're really making this a home," he says, softly, meaning more than just the kitchen cabinets.
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"Well, temporary is a pretty flexible term," he admits; he agrees, they need to sever ties fully at some point. But they're not at that point yet, and he's not sure when it will come. It feels like they just settled in here; he doesn't want to leave just yet, though he won't kick up a fuss if they do need to go sooner rather than later. "And we have people we still need to check in with. So... I think we'll be here a little while, at least. Even if I think the upgrades on a place like this might never be done."
It does still need a lot of work. More than they can reasonably put into it before they probably do need to move on.
He shrugs the shoulder not attached to the hand just touching Winter's toes. "Home is where the heart is, anyway. Right?"
wrap this one here maybe?
Sounds good to me!
He just maybe hopes he won't, and offers a soft, pleased, and hopefully encouraging smile as Winter's foot creeps up a little higher.