EVENT #11: ADVERSITY 4590683

[expiationmods]

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)!

♡

Comments

b

[manifestering]

[Boy, is there a lot going on here. Octavian in all honesty pauses to watch this argument, as he passes by—the doppelgangers interest him in a purely academic sense, and if this woman is going to argue with hers so publicly, who is he to refuse the opportunity to stop and spectate...

Maybe (definitely) that's rude of him, but he's not bothered by things like normal human manners. Please. A few things about her argument stand out to him; trying to kill her mother, whatever an "old god soul" is— but it's the sudden burst of magic that actually compels him to drift a little closer.

The rest is, after all, her business; the ice is very, for lack of a better term, cool. He speaks to her directly, as if the doppelganger hasn't been hurling abuses this whole time:]

You have talent. Are you a magician by trade...

[Don't mind how dry and dusty he sounds, he's dead, these things happen to a guy. He's super pumped for magic.]

[elfsplaining]

[The False Morrigan wiggles, clearly intent on trying to answer, but considering her mouth is covered over by ice, this proves difficult.

The Real Morrigan shoots him a withering look, before she pauses and looks at him more closely. She's torn between keeping her anger going, and the curiosity that is this dude's Whole Deal.]

I am a mage, yes. [She keeps it somewhere in the middle instead, tone wary] This is part of some of my least talented skills. [not that they aren't all talented, but she's a master shapechanger before she's a master everything else]

[manifestering]

[Well, hang on, if the imposter is stuck, then he's going to drift on over there and take a closer look at some of those pieces of ice. Not too close, but still right up in there. Wow, and it's not even melting...

Over his shoulder he says,] You must have a specialization.

[Which is as much invitation as anything to talk about her Coolest Power. He's not familiar with shapechanging, himself— magic is constrained to the more basic where he's from, despite how he himself is a handful of experimental castings and a seal slapped together. The ice was already impressive, more or less.]

[elfsplaining]

[On one hand, this is irritating, especially since the fake Morrigan doesn't seem to be harmed much by Real Morrigan's attempts. Clearly they're not able to be fatally injured, but surely she can just...leave her as an icicle for a while??

She rests her hands on her hips]

Shapechanging, into animals. I grew up in the wilds, so shapechanging was part of survival. [She eyes him again, brow furrowing]

What are you?

[manifestering]

[The wilds, she says; survival, too, and Octavian hums with the vague acknowledgment of someone who can objectively sense the truth in what she's saying - yes, living out in any kind of wilderness must be dangerous - but has never once in his life been out in any kind of wilderness. He was a delicate, spun-glass thing even before he died; sheltered. A magician because his parents were, not because of survival.

So, yeah, he doesn't get it, but he hears it. Shapechanging, huh! That's far more interesting than what he is, but—]

I am a spectre. A ghost. Not the haunting kind. I do not haunt.

[He reaches out to poke a finger against the ice around the fake woman's legs, and it seems like he's solid enough to make contact, but not solid enough to feel the cold, because he doesn't draw his hand away. He looks up,]

How does one learn to change shape... The theory is unfamiliar to me.

[elfsplaining]

[She raises an eyebrow; it was, apparently, very important to him that she know he's not the "haunting kind."] Are ghosts not supposed to... move on, at some point? If you are still stuck in the mortal world, is that not a kind of haunting?

[She's not worried about him disturbing her magic ice at least, so she can let him poke and prod as much as he likes.]

I spent time with the animals more than I did people. I watched, and I studied. [She shrugs] Are you able to do magic? Tis useless to explain how if you cannot even use it.

[manifestering]

[Listen, people make a lot of comments around here when you drop that you're a ghost. He's been accused of haunting, of being a zombie; he's been offered a body to possess so he can go sleep around... People have such weird ghost opinions! Even this question makes him want to roll his eyes, if only for how many times he's heard it.

But he's tracing the ice and not looking at her again, so he doesn't have to.]

Of course I am able. My whole lineage were magicians. I studied.

[Because magic is just a thing you can learn, where he's from, but he hasn't thought of the possibility that it's not like that everywhere. Watching and studying animals is so un-academic that it would make his head spin if he were thinking too hard about it—he'll get back to that. First, the other thing, the ghost thing.]

Continuing. I am not stuck. I am here on purpose. I persist only by my own blessing. And magic.

[elfsplaining]

[She wanders closer herself, observing him thoughtfully.

There's a lot of curiosity here, on both sides apparently, and Morrigan finds herself...intrigued. It's not every day one gets to just talk to a ghost so casually, and especially not one that's so articulate.

But her other questions can wait for the moment, as she reaches out to poke at him, just to see if he's actually solid.]

[manifestering]

[...Oh, okay, she's doing this. He watches her approach, and reach for him, and poke him, all without moving away or saying anything to deter her, because why not. This might as well happen.

He's definitely tangible, in the way that something hollow and almost a little plastic is tangible; there's definitely no sense of weight to him, almost like he could be popped if she squeezed his arm hard enough, but she sure can poke at him and get a physical return on that.

He clears his throat.]

I am not like other spirits.

[elfsplaining]

I can see that. [Poke. Poke.... Seemingly satisfied, she pulls her hand back, crossing her arms over her chest as she regards him] I am wondering as to why.

Are spirits common where you are from? And I assume you have no equivalent to the Fade... Why have you decided to stick around? Is the afterlife so boring?

[manifestering]

You have so many questions.

[Chill out, girl, one at a time. He might be a science experiment, but he's his own science experiment, specifically, no one else's.]

I have never seen an afterlife. If there is any. Spirits are not common. Whatever storybook tales you may have in your home about them do not apply to me.

[A beat, while he considers.]

All of you choose to stick around. I am perfectly within my rights to do the same.

[elfsplaining]

Then answer quicker. [if you answer quickly you won't be bogged down under a mountain of her questions, duh.

She mutters something like 'not a fairytale-' please its all scientifically (ish?) proven, hdu, before she nods in acceptance of the answers]

I am simply curious what pull the living world would have. [Well, she supposes if he could just travel without worrying about things like food and water and sleep or obstacles...] Do you have limitations to travel normally? Can you not just float over the sea or across the land?

[manifestering]

Hmm, [he says, and he means no, but that's immaterial. He'll go as leisurely as he likes; he has plenty of time.]

Why would I care about travelling.

[Where is he going to go! He has better things to do!]

In any case. It is not so much the living world but the living that I am owed. That has, as you call it, pull.