expiationlogs | EVENT #11: ADVERSITY 4590683

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EVENT #11: ADVERSITY 4590683

EVENT #11: REMEMBER YOU ARE MORTAL

This event takes place in conjunction with a player plot that is open for participation! Participation in that plot is not needed to experience the world effects outlined in this log. You can find the log for the player event here!

THE STORY SO FAR (click to expand)

-Over time, characters have discovered that the world of Expiation is actually a large, elaborate simulation run by an AI that seems to be intent on helping them atone for their crimes. This news is well-known by the Chosen, enough so that any new character who wishes to handwave this knowledge is able to do so.

-In September 2024, that AI needed to be reset as a consequence of some catastrophic systems failures. So far, there has been no downside to this reset–but the AI has also been strangely absent since then.

-Things have been quiet in Aldrip since September, aside from the routine arrival of new Chosen. The locals seem less than happy with the Chosen, though, as if they have already branded them all criminals. As if they no longer trust them…

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 11

The moon looms large and full over the buildings of Aldrip this morning.

… Wait. The moon?

It’s true: Aldrip seems to have settled into an eerie perpetual twilight, lit by the full moon and little else. The ambient lighting is dim, but not dark, still light enough to see by. Which is good, because nothing else seems to be serving as a source of light. No sun, no street lamps–nothing. How odd is that?

In fact, it seems that no electronics are working during this strange week. Tablets don’t turn on, computers won’t work, even the lights inside the houses are unresponsive. STEM club’s dark web devices remain capable of some rudimentary communication, however.

The Dark Hour permeates Aldrip entirely. Well. Almost entirely–more on that in a minute. But first: monsters of all kinds will be more prominent during this time. If you would like to add new monsters to the bestiary, you can do so here! Monsters will be more aggressive and enterprising, freely roaming the streets of the city and attacking more boldly than they otherwise would.

Now, all is not lost, here. Because some Chosen-owned spaces remain immune to its effects. Notably: the Inn, the Willow Clinic, and some other player-run businesses can serve as safe houses, as well as some storehouses that were constructed long ago. The lights will still go on in these locations, though the network restrictions above still remain in effect.

For the most part, monsters and other event happenings will avoid safe houses, though if you’d like to play around with that, we see no reason why you shouldn’t. Just remember that characters and players who choose to limit their participation in the event are making use of these spaces, and be respectful of that.

As for outside of the city…who knows? A thick, impenetrable mist surrounds Aldrip, keeping all characters within the city for the duration of the event. Anyone who may have been outside of Aldrip before the event began will mysteriously find themselves inside the city as the Dark Hour takes hold. Better make your way to a safe house…and good luck out there.

MY OWN WORST ENEMY

Who is the monster and who is the man?

It seems that monsters aren’t the only obstacle roaming the city. The Chosen may find themselves facing doppelgangers, of themselves or of fellow Chosen. In terms of appearance, they may be identical to the Chosen they reflect, to the point of being difficult to tell apart. Some may have minor changes–different eye color, different clothing, things like that. But in many cases, it may be impossible to tell which is real and which is not based on looks alone.

These doubles reveal a dark reflection of the characters they look like: their deepest fears and regrets, repressed desires they refuse to admit, feelings and experiences they’ve never told anyone about…all of these things and more will come to the surface with them. These doubles desperately want to see a character’s accused crime confronted, and they will do anything to make that happen, even resorting to violence if they must. The doubles have all the original powers and abilities of their real counterparts, making them extremely difficult (but not impossible!) to fight one-on-one.

Some characters may find themselves inexplicably drawn to their doppelgangers, as if called by some force. They may feel compelled to seek them out, as if they’re unable to rest so long as their double roams free. This is an optional effect, but should you be looking for an excuse to get your character out and about–please feel free to utilize it.

Doubles can be injured and incapacitated, but not killed; the only way to eliminate them is through acceptance and recognition. Characters do not have to do this alone; in fact, having some moral support or coaching may prove useful. Confronting the double and accepting or seriously reflecting upon the crime they’re charged with will make the doppelgangers first turn docile, and then disappear, leaving the original character feeling lighter and more sure of themselves.

A MINOR TECHNICALITY

What happens to a simulation when the electronics stop working?

Good question.

Occasionally, you may see what looks like a strange, thin line, just from the corner of your vision. Early in the week, trying to look at this line straight on reveals…nothing. It seems to vanish.

As the week continues, this strange happening seems to intensify, bit by bit. By midweek, Wednesday or so, you’re able to look at this line head-on. It seems to be a small crack, little more than a hairline fracture, outlined in light. As the weekend creeps closer, this crack seems to grow, bit by bit, becoming more pronounced, the gaps between it getting larger.

By the weekend, it’s wide enough that you can see through it.

What you see is difficult to describe. You seem to be looking into a large metallic structure, so large that the end seems to curve off into the horizon. How far does this go on? There’s a ceiling overhead, so high up that you can’t make out details. Much of this structure seems to be empty within, but you see a floor at foot level, made of metal.

The gap is wide enough that you can stick your hand right through it. When you do so, you begin to feel a strange tingling, starting at the tips of your fingers and extending to the part of your arm that goes into the crack. Nothing about your hand changes, really, but when the tingling subsides, you get the strange sensation that you’ve been unable to feel anything with that hand, up til now. Something about the air against your skin feels more real, here. As if your senses were muted before…

The crack never widens more than this. It is sometimes visible to just one person, and sometimes it can be visible to a group. This crack can appear in any surface, in any location, but it always looks the same and always reveals the same structure within.

Interesting…

ENDING In conjunction with the conclusion of the player plot, the Dark Hour comes to an end one week later, on November 18. Monsters vacate the city, the sun reappears…this happens slowly, over the course of the day. By Tuesday, the network and electronic usage is restored. By Wednesday, the crack in the world seems to be gone for good. By the weekend after the event, all doppelgangers seem to have vanished.

This is fine, we always say. And it is! Everything is back to normal!

…

Or is it…?

WILDCARD Make your own fun! Just because it’s not in the prompts doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Have at it! Go crazy! Try not to break anything (too much)!

♡

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OOC: Misc starters below. Want a starter for something new? Feel free to hit me up at "denofwolves" on Discord or comment to my plotting post]

[While many places in the city of Aldrip go suddenly dark, the Aetherochemical Research Facility remains aglow. Its shimmering lights are a beacon for the tired and frightened. Within its walls, people can set up bedrolls and tents to shelter from the monsters roaming outside.

Hyperetes wheels around the gathered Chosen, beeping, delivering foods (where did it get food?) and urgently trying to make everyone feel welcome.]

((ooc: Anyone who wants to shelter at the ARF is encouraged to tag among each other here! Fandaniel may occasionally emerge to talk to people.))

[A crashing sound rings through the air and a massive, plant-like monstrosity with a gaping maw comes juggernauting down the street.

Fandaniel is running before it. It would only take the effort of thought for him to teleport himself to safety but where is the fun in that?

He leads the morbol on a chase until he sees other Chosen and flails his arms.]

Save me, brave hero!

Edited 2024-11-13 23:48 (UTC)

[Ah. Fandaniel, with his signature malevolent light, is fleeing on foot from a beast.

It is not unlike the immense beasts that roamed the jungles of Dxun. Visas puts out a hand to choke it, squeezing her fist to block its airways--but much to her surprise, it does not stop it as she thought it would. The creature is hindered, flailing and slapping the ground as its throat is held in place, but it must have another source of air.]

Do you know what this thing is?

[It seems to be using its tentacles to turn itself around the pivot of its larynx--and making very unpleasant noises as it does so.]

[Fandaniel skids to a stop beside Visas, then ducks behind her to place her between the morbol and himself.]

A morbol. 'Tis a vicious beast that slays its prey with a noxious breath.

[He peeks over her shoulder, lips pursing into a childish pout.]

Might I ask what you are doing to it?

I am trying to strangle it. [She notes Fandaniel ducking behind her without moving from her position.] But perhaps it has other sources of air.

[If it slays with a noxious breath, she'll have to point that maw away from them before she makes her next attempt. Taking a breath of concentration, she pushes it back around so that it's at least facing to the left.

Then she ignites her lightsaber and lunges, plunging the blade deep into its fleshy body.]

Well, they are more plant than animal...

[When Visas leaps forward, he jumps and folds his hands against his heart. He shrinks back, wide-eyed and small, playing the part of a frightened, powerless mortal with all the thespian effort he can muster..]

My!

[The creature thrashes and hisses as the blade pierces it.]

What manner of weapon is that?

[Ah... so that explains why cutting off its air supply isn't doing much. It doesn't have just one place to breathe through.]

A lightsaber. [A powerful weapon, a weapon of great meaning... but physically, it cannot deal with a creature so massive as this in one fell swoop. She's inflicted a wound, but it's not deadly enough to drop it.] Do you have--any combat--

[It's hard to ask questions when you're trying to fight a giant tentacled plant monster festooned with fangs and tentacles, and trying to results in her getting a whack in the torso that sends her staggering back.]

[As she staggers back she bumps into Fandaniel, who tries not at all to get out of the way.]

Combat experience? Me?

[The creature bellows and thrashes a tentacle in rage, knocking stone loose from a nearby wall. From its gaping maw, Fandaniel can smell its breath. It smells like rotten meat.]

I...I fear I do not.

[Lies the sorcerer. A morbol is no match for Ascian magicks but just blasting it away wouldn't be any fun.]

[At least Fandaniel makes for a handy backstop. Visas manages to straighten up and resume a proper stance--although now that she's right near him, he's in even greater danger from the morbol.

The air that issues from its maw is the sort of thing the word stench was coined to describe. Visas wonders idly if it's eaten anyone today. Predatory plants do exist on many planets.]

Then run. [Run where, she doesn't know. If it isn't a morbol, it's a shark with legs... the streets have become the jungle moon, where every step is a struggle for survival.] Run now!

[The urgency comes as the morbol draws in a huge volume of air--and blasts it out, a fog of foul poison that shrouds everything.]

((cw: suicidal ideation and attempt, weird self-cesty vibes due to the nature of his crime.))

[Fandaniel looks down the street. It is almost unfamiliar with every window darkened and only the light of the full moon illuminating the faces of each building. Somewhere nearby, a block away maybe, he can hear the sound of Chosen clashing with a wandering beast.

What do you think of them?

Voiceless words drift through his mind. A presence suddenly leans against him. Despite the hood he wears, he can feel the sensation of something nuzzling against his neck. Lips feather against his ear.

Whatever it is, he can feel it silently urging him to turn and face it.]

What do I think of who?

[He decides entertaining the question is better than giving the formless entity what it wants.

The Chosen.]

Alas, poor fools.

[Yes, the voiceless words agree. You are better than them. You can see the tragic meaninglessness of existence for what it is! And yet...

Fandaniel doesn't answer. After a minute passes in silence, the words in his mind continue for him.

And yet you are also worse than them. The revelation has made you a monster unable to live in their world any longer... It doesn't have to be that way.

At this Ascian does whirl in place, turning to see...nothing. The presence pressed against his body seems to withdraw as if startled by his sudden movement.]

Oh? And what would change things? Please do enlighten me, oh, faceless entity!

[Shadows darken and arise, swirling from the cobbles. They coalesce into a cloud, at the center of which hangs a bright scarlet glyph that Fandaniel knows only too well.

Love me.

The Ascian cackles.]

Ha! I see! Is this another trick of the AI? Some senseless attempt to see me redeemed? Well, I am not falling for it. Who is less deserving of love than I, the worst man in the world?

[His shadow self ripples as if in disappointment.

Fandaniel lifts a hand, snaps his fingers, and conjures a pistol into his grip. The shadow ripples again, this time in grim amusement.

A bullet will not harm a being of pure aether.]

Well, then, I am in luck! 'Tis not supposed to harm you!

[Fandaniel crows and holds the muzzle of the gun against his temple.]

I'm holding myself hostage until you leave. Hmm... I wonder, will pulling the trigger force you to disperse? Is your being anchored to mine?

[Movement in the street ahead pulls his eyes from his shadow. It's hard to mistake the flaming clock heading in his direction for anyone else.]

Dante! Turn around, won't you? This is a private conversation.

[It's a lot to take in. Fandaniel, shouting at some creature that feels too much like a Distortion to be comfortable, the gun to his own head. The words he's saying...

As many... reservations as they have about the man's character, this isn't a sight they're comfortable with. And leaving it alone, passing by after all they've seen, both here and in the Fathoms...]

< It's a little hard for me to do that now. And I don't... I don't think that's a good idea. >

[He'd pull the trigger. They know that much. But they know platitudes and appeals to life aren't what are going to convince him. Instead:]

< It won't be worth it. You'll come back later anyway, won't you? >

Yes, I suppose I will! Though there is always the chance that I won't...

[His silver eyes flick from Dante to his shadow.]

Nevertheless, a permanent ending to my own existence is not the point. Ending this miserable wretch is!

A bullet to the brain to escape an otherwise very inescapable conversation is worth the risk, I think...

[The red glyph in the churning shadows twists around to regard Dante.

This person has a flaming clock for a head.]

I know, and they will not even allow me to crack the clock open to study what's inside. Dreadfully rude, that.

< I don't know about rude... I think most people like what's on the inside of their head to stay on the inside. >

[The flame flickers as they glance from the glyphed shadow back to Fandaniel.]

< Plus, a lot of that information's classified, even from me. >

[This is a dangerous game they're playing... But maybe curiosity is something they can work with.]

Classified? Then you must be eager to know if you have a real head in there or not!

Let us find out, shall we?

[Fandaniel sways closer to Dante, eyes sparkle. The idea of experimenting on the mysterious being with a flaming clock on their shoulders has momentarily distracted him from the conjured pistol still held in his grip.]

[Progress... in some direction. And along a tightrope.]

< You could... But as I've told other people here, prothetic heads aren't exactly uncommon in the City. >

< Just because it's classified doesn't mean it's unique. There's more interesting technology back home than this. >

Back in your home, perhaps! What is common to you is less so to me.

Oh, I have seen strange things attached in the place of heads...

[He gestures around vaguely with the pistol]

Inorganic objects, however? You are my first!

So... The way I see it...

You can offer up your head for my study or I shall blow my own head off from the tedium of being left alone with yonder shadow. Come morning one of us will have much lighter shoulders!

[Behind him, his shadow self drifts forward.]

So? What to you say? Care to make my evening more interesting?

followyourstar - 2024-12-18 19:43 (UTC) - Expand

[The feathery cracks of light had been barely noticeable at first. As the days roll past they part, hairline fractures splintering open to show a gleaming world on the other side.

Fandaniel can be found exploring one such crack. He stares through it, slides a gloved hand through it, he even attempts to teleport through but finds himself unmoved.

Passersby might notice him sticking things through the crack or standing before it with a vacant expression.]

Edited 2024-11-25 14:58 (UTC)

[If Fandaniel isn't too distracted by the crack, he might notice a large panther approaching him, emerging from the shadows to step towards him on paws that were nearly silent. The panther doesn't look particularly hostile though, and the reason becomes obvious soon enough. Morph shifts back to their natural form in mid-stride, stopping to stand next to him with their arms loosely crossed.]

I'm glad to see the eggheads are taking this thing seriously. So what's the verdict, Dan?

[Fandaniel blinks as Morph shifts to their natural form in the edge of his gaze, then lets his pale, stolen features settle into a lazy grin.]

'Twould be bold of me indeed to have a verdict just yet. Theories, however...

[He rubs his chin in thought.]

...Tell me are you able to regrow lost appendages?

Edited 2024-11-29 04:52 (UTC)

[Morph gives him a doubtful look,] Uh, maybe? Believe it or not, I don't make it a habit to lose arms or legs.

[They had been splattered apart before, but that was different - Morph was capable of reforming as long as their goo hadn't gotten too far away from them. But they had also been able to give samples without too much trouble, as long as the sample was contained in some way.]

Are you saying you think that it's dangerous to be sticking our arms in that thing?

Oh, no, not at all! Perfectly safe!

Though I was wondering what would happen if I severed your arm and left a piece of you on the other side...

[He looks Morph over, eyes sparkling.]

Mm... Perhaps we needn't be so gruesome. Are you able to condense yourself into a much smaller form?

[Fandaniel bows forward at the waist, clutches one hand against the small of his back, and lifts the other with his thumb and forefinger nearly pinched together. One eye winks shut and he smiles a radiant smile.]

Something rodent sized should suffice.

...I'm pretty sure it'd just end up a puddle of goo. You're not gonna get another me if you cut part of me off.

[Otherwise it'd be a real pain when Hank had to take 'blood' samples from them... yeah, if their powers worked like that, Morph would've noticed by now. They're still a little suspicious by the request for a rodent, but... Morph knows that they can manage that one, and there was zero harm involved.

After a brief moment of concentration, they rapidly shrink down, shifting smaller and smaller until a white mouse is sitting in the same spot. The Morph-mouse stands upright on their hind legs, squeaking at him and stretching forward to make itself easier to see.]

[Fandaniel smiles as he watches Morph shrink down into a mouse.]

Good mouse.

[He coos as he scoops them into his gloved palms and holds them up to eye level.]

Where has the rest of you gone? Surely when you become a mouse your mass must go somewhere, yes? 'Tis not with you. You weigh nary more than an acorn! Have you become a swarm, perhaps? Are there more mice where I cannot see?

[A thousand more questions race through him, but a quick glance at the crack reminds him what he is doing this for. Right, reality has a crack in it.]

Later, later!

[Words chirped to himself. Reality tear first, Morph's transformations later. Focus!

He gently lifts his fingers to the side of the crack and waits to see what happens.]

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Taking Shelter (OTA)

Maiden in danger (OTA)

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Sorry for the wait!

No worries!

Madness (closed to Dante)

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cw: suicidal ideation used in a pretty gross way

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Crack In Reality (OTA)

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