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logsinthenight2020-06-16 03:00 pm
nextnightmods) wrote in logsinthenight2020-06-16 03:00 pm
EVENT LOG: WE ALL STILL DIE (PART TWO)
EVENT LOG:
WE ALL STILL DIE PART TWO
characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: june 16-18.
content: spirits are sacrificed, and revelry turns to catastrophe
warnings: gore, violence, psychological horror. please cw tags appropriately.
this tree it will die without leaves
The music fades away as a soft-furred forest spirit with a powerful warble of a voice and the body of a large moth calls everyone to attention. The other spirits usher everyone, with masks on faces and instruments in hands, to gather up at the harbor.
For a spirit, the speaker is eloquent enough - it mimes and dances, peppering movements with melodic speech in the spirits' language, as it demonstrates the rising of the sun that might once have happened here. As it bows, three spirits walk forward and stand side by side. One is only a few feet high, lumpy and pale purplish, wearing a paper crown. The second is black and birdlike, with an elegant floral mask and a pink ribbon tacked to its chest. The third is vaguely human-shaped but for the long, thick hair (?) that cascades from its head and covers its face, and for the long, slender-fingered hands that rest tucked against its chest and sweep downward to its knees. These three are soon joined by spirits with long, scythe-like claws that stand at attention. The warbling moth spirit begins a chant, which the other spirits soon join in, and as the volume reaches a roar of demand and triumph and fervor, the three clawed spirits move quickly and precisely, slicing open the bellies of the three sacrificial volunteers. Their bodies shrink backward and begin to slowly dissipate as if melting, but buckets and bowls are quickly passed forward and much of the gore and meat is collected, and passed one by one through the crowd of spectators, spirit and Beaconite alike - and all are offered a share.
Many of you have eaten spirit flesh before, haven't you? Some have even done so recently. Surely, this is something you all want, isn't it? After a full year here, the spirits have learned so much about their current neighbors who gather around the fire. Some even offer the bowls while shrinking away in what might be fear, while others cackle and chirp and insist on sharing all this fresh food with their friends.
Meanwhile, the changes you may have begun to notice the day before manifest more strongly now. A hunger that won't abate for anything and anyone. A unique manic euphoria, difficult to diminish and hard, if not impossible, to shake that draws one into the music and demands everyone participate in the festivities. Lastly, a violent tenacity to lash out at anything that acts to get in the way of the celebration.
The compulsion starts as a gentle longing and escalates to an incapacitating urge to run without a care through the dark woods, to hunt, to forget all responsibilities. The spirits begin to dance and play their music in unison now, and they march south and east, away from the harbor and toward the village, and it is infectiously fun. In the distance, another band plays an enthralling tune which can just be heard through the miles of forest, and the spirits gather so that they - and you - may join them and bring everyone together to celebrate.
You will come along, won't you? You'll bring all your friends, too. For those who join in, the grandest celebration awaits over the next few days. You are free to pursue your instincts, to lash out, to consume. To dance until your feet are raw and madness overtakes you. To join the parade, and all it entails.
The few that did not partake in any of the festivities at all will find themselves clear of mind. They can do their best to try and keep those under the compulsion from falling to their instincts, though it could provoke violent, miserable results. Once the maddened party joins the parade, trying to pull them out would be incredibly ill-advised. The spirits in the parade and the characters under the influence of its thrall will not tolerate any interruption of the celebration. The parade will chase them down, slice them open, tear their flesh from their limbs. This is a party for light and life! Anyone not with the parade is against it. Death surely will suit them better instead.
ooc notes:
SPIRIT INTERACTIONS: As mentioned previously, anyone who posts top-levels under the SPIRITS header means you are open to spirits doing a bit of threadjacking. We will not be consistently maintaining long threads with spirits, but they will be able to come and go from threads between characters. Please bear in mind that serious injury or death is a potential result of these interactions and so posting a toplevel to this header means you accept this risk.
POTENTIAL DEATH: This event couldn't have come at a better time, as the death mechanic has thankfully been restored. If your character dies in this event, please report it here! And remember, as it was just restored, there might be a few quirks to the system...
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no subject
Carmilla doesn't fight Megara trying to unwind herself, though there's something about her lazy posture that changes. from accommodating and inviting to tense and petulant. )
I don't want to go back there. What are we going to do, lay in the dark and think about how everyone's dead and we're likely next? I don't want to think about that.
( there's something embedded in that, the implication she has been doing that up until this point. the anger cuts through her tone like a whip, sudden and unexpected. but it delays back just as easily, as Carmilla tugs at the hand where they're still connected, trying to lure Megara back. )
Stay with me. Dance with me.
no subject
Okay, so we don't have to sleep. There's a bar there, right? I could go for a drink instead, what about you?
[ she couldn't. but it seems like a better alternative to dancing, if only because she's not the only one who seems to have a vested interest in keeping the citizens there and participating in that, and they all seem to have that faraway look in their eyes. ]
im dying at that screenshot
a black-tinged fingertip reaches out to trail Megara's throat, cat mask tilting as eyes hidden behind the mark focus there. ) A drink? ( she repeats, her voice heady and breathy all at once. her mask distinctly does not cover her mouth, so the way her tongue darts across her lower lip is extremely obvious. )
You don't really want that. It'll hurt. It'll hurt, and you'll hate me after. ( now that Megara mentions it, she is hungry. to the point it hurts. it's not the only hurt she's nursing — her feet, her body, her heart, her everything. dancing had dulled it, and now it's fettering back to the surface. maybe she needs to feed, maybe that's the problem. she barely feeds in Beacon, and most of the time it doesn't bother her. she doesn't need blood as often as humans need food.
right about now, though, her lack of consistent diet is probably a problem. )
it's good for so many occasions
What, you're worried about a hangover? [ it's spoke way bolder than she actually feels. she's got the feeling that the woman isn't going to take her trying to get away too well. ]
TW: VAMPIRISM, BLOOD
she'll be annoyed that the parade managed to get under her skin, into her head, enough that she turns into the part of herself she's much happier to suppress. the kind that will take what she wants from girls that don't have any way of fighting back. the ugly little monster that will hurt people the way she was hurt, just so she's not the only one hurting anymore. maybe something even worse, the monster that will take as she likes without a second thought to whether it makes someone else suffer or not. she laughs, though at what Megara said or just some distant demon in her head, hard to say. )
You were going to hate me anyway, weren't you? ( humans despised vampires, it was just their nature. it's fine, she gets it — she hates herself more than any human could. if the conclusion is unavoidable, then truly what is the point of starving and suffering? she should feed, feel full for once. take and thrive instead of hide and heel.
so she does. she sinks fangs into the lovely line of Megara's neck, absolutely thoughtless to how it will hurt her. the vangs are wickedly sharp, made for exactly this. it's quite an unusual sensation, the bright mark of pain and then the pull of blood seeping away. Carmilla expects a fight, and holds tight to prevent it. it's easier without the struggle, the chance of tearing or worse. )
TW: VAMPIRISM, BLOOD, DISNEY CHARACTERS SWEARING
[ meg doesn't have time to get the question out before carmilla's fangs sink deep into her throat, and it's too much of a shock for her to react the way she knows she should right away. it's painful but there's something strangely alluring about it. pleasure isn't really the word but she feels almost giddy as her blood gets drained, and carmilla seems much calmer and less eager to fight.
it doesn't last long. carmilla's arms holding her tighter are the thing to snap her out of it, and the other woman is stronger but megara is far from weak. she manages to jerk her arm loose and shove her back, and she shouts in pain as her fangs tear away.
a hand is clasped to her throat and blood streams from the wound, staining and sticking her palm and the space between her fingers. she pants wildly to catch her breath and stares at carmilla in shock and fear. and some anger. ]
What the hell was that?!
no subject
she is stronger, and probably could prevent Megara from pulling free if she wanted. or had her normal reaction speed, instead of the sluggish state she's currently in. she could hold on and leech every last drop of her, leaving nothing left but the pretty husk of her body. and god, it's tempting. what's really there to stop her? why does she keep fighting it? isn't this what she really is, the ugly truth she tries to avoid?
instead, Megara pulls free and pushes back, tearing away and leaving far more of a hole in her neck than there would have been if Carmilla pulled back on her own. she instantly misses the heat and the taste, though she'd been greedy enough that the blood drips from her mouth without the barrier of skin and her lips sealed to Megara's neck to keep it contained. she sighs, wiping at her mouth and sucking at the fingers like her fingers are stained with chocolate sauce, and not someone else's blood. )
A drink. ( she laughs, at a joke that's not funny, that's not even there. ) Just go. Or I'll do it again. ( she sounds distantly like she doesn't want to this time, for what it counts... like a voice in a storm, drowned out by the noise. then again, she's still licking her fingers like a kitten that got into the cream, so... it can't be that convincing. )
no subject
she tells her to go and, with lack of any clue of what else to do and no desire to get bitten again, she just nods, looking her over a final time before she starts running to the landmark as fast as she can. ]