( october event log pt. 2 )

[hohnkai]

Who: Everyone
When: October 19th into the beginning of November.
Where: The Mini Colony of the Runoff & the Moira.
What: The Moira stops to resupply at the closest planet and things get weird.
Warnings: Physical transformations, phobias - please label if needed.

E V E N T L O G

Between the Perspectives "but in your future, the you i see is exactly the person you always wanted to be." Supplies have been loaded onto the ship, and the captains have encouraged all crew members to explore with the added notice that this will be the last planetary stop (hopefully) until the Moira reaches the Midway Hub. While seemingly uneventful on the Moira, the mini colony has been thrumming with adventure and has offered its visitors the opportunity to explore. To those who have indulged, some experienced great changes and others discovered enlightening information about the Ingress and the very ship some have called home for over a year. Later in the month, the Lamaria hold the closing ceremony of the Desiderium Festival (which was noted on the prior event log) . The burgundy and lime colors of the celebration slowly fade into black and vermillion, and small fires are now in place for visitors to throw their written notes into. Everyone who participates will be blessed by one of the Lamaria (they will visit the ship as well), and the MID will be able to only translate bits and pieces of what this blessing means. "Experienced loss — every story is different — and saying goodbye — not to know — understanding lies in the mingling of holding on and letting go." ☄ TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL For some, it might be due to a touch or a look. For others, it might not be any of those things at all, and something that just happens. Either way, shortly after the blessing occurs, you will find yourself changing. Your character’s body will slowly transform into the physical likeness of another being on the Mini Colony. The effects of this change may last as short as a day or as long as a week, but each come with their own stipulations—advantages and disadvantages. This is limited to one as the blessing itself only allows for “a little understanding”. Linked below are some of the possible transformations that your character can go through. Players can choose either one of the mod-supplied suggestions or choose the form of another already living on the Moira. ☄ THE FEAR MACHINE Paranoia writes the checks, we're dangling here like a marionette. Here we go again, the world is coming to an end. Engage the fear machine and collect the dividends. While the festival is beautiful, and some have found enlightenment and understanding here, there are those on the mini colony who don't enjoy the festivities. In a secluded room on the fifth floor in one of the buildings in the Science District, there is one such person who finds the religious festival to be a nuisance—one who should be stopped. Thinking that disrupting the blessings and celebration will somehow "get back" at the Lamaria for impeding their work (some of those who have transformed got into the building a few years ago and destroyed this person's property). Pettiness thrives, and they create something they dub The Fear Machine. Yet, while the science is sound, the technology itself is not. In the middle of the mini colony, the machine is set off, and bolts of transparent energy erupt and spark out around it, stretching as far as the docked ships. Since the technology wasn't created properly to sustain the energy, it doesn't spread out evenly like they had hoped. Some are hit. Some are not. Those who are will develop a sudden and overwhelming phobia that will last well into the beginning of November. The machine might be turned off and left behind, but the obsessive fear has only just begun. ( ooc; For questions, go here. This log will run into the beginning of November; any threads here can be claimed for bonus activity the following activity check as well. )

Comments

joseph kavinsky | maleficus | ota (cw sexual vulgarity)

[pillz]

a. shapeshift (planetside)

[at first, the difference is subtle. ordinarily, kavinsky is an asshole cleverly disguised as a child. but the maleficus transformation starts to spread over him, and he's more like a child disguised as an asshole.

at first, he doesn't like it. he's a vain boy, and seeing his hands turn blue and gold makes him spit curses and death threats. but then he realizes that the festival fires are responding to the very way he thinks, twisting and brightening. he abruptly, uncharacteristically loses interest in people. though, granted, not before he steals the flames out of two separate pots, flipping (blue-skinned) middle fingers as he goes.

he ends up away from the party, and maybe that's where you find him. looking up at the stars, with interest that he never would have shown as a human. he separates out his captured flames, sends them up into the air. he starts to mark out constellations, a thumb-sized pip of fire to represent each star. stars and stars and stars.

and just as suddenly, he claps his dark hands together, and the remaining flame churns into the shape of a dragon. that lunges up, its burning jaws agape, to eat the galaxy that he had created. he laughs-- bright, happy, genuinely pleased with himself, even as he spins his creation in the air.]

b. claustrophobia (moira)

[back on the moira, kavinsky is considerably less at ease. for some reason, the idea of going back to his room is fucking gross. he doesn't know if it's the alien magic dna or whatever, if it's a function of wanting to stare idiotically at stars all night long, or something else. he's pretty sure if he goes into his little bunk, he'll throw up instead of sleeping. the notion of going to the sanitation area, where he works, is nearly as intolerable to think about, but he's pretty sure that's because-- well. you know. work.

so he goes to the observation deck.

it's quiet and dark, and for once, the absence of people and people-noise and people-drama doesn't bother him so much. because the ship is grounded, his view of the stars isn't any better here than it was when he was outside, but it's okay. he breathes on the glass and draws dicks with his finger, and then he starts to play with his hair, the odd spark of biological connection whenever the ends touch his fingers.] I wonder if my pubes is like this too, [he comments, to no one in particular.]

[OOC Note: In case it wasn't clear, his Maleficus blessing is fire control, and the disadvantage is the weird preference for stars over people.]

b

[brokeassgoing]

[its probably dangerous to smoke up here in space but...Badou ain't not having it. He's found a spare cigarette, who knows where except probably due to bloodshed because there's clearly blood under his nails.

Right now he's just chilling. Or he was until he heard Kavinsky. His single eye flickers to the other, brow cocked.]

I'd go to the doc for that one, man.

cw sexual vulgarity

[pillz]

Yeah?

[the blue-skinned boy turns to look at the stranger. kavinsky's eyes go to the eyepatch first, his eyebrows tangling almost invisibly under his newly-dark complexion.]

You got doctors for touching your alien hair penis up here? [when he smiles, his teeth are still white. he leans back against the glass.] You sure you didn't go in for your checkup in a porn studio?

[brokeassgoing]

[this little shit. Badou's amused, though, mouth quirked at the edges. Lips pursed, he blows a smoke ring from them.]

Don't know if they've even got porno studios up here, God forbid. You might be shit outta luck with your dream career, man. Better practice coughing and holdin' your balls.

mild powerpose, lmk if it's not ok

[pillz]

God forbid? [kavinsky opens his fingers in the chilly spaceship air.] Fuck you. What you got against fucking alien porn, man? We gotta make a living too, you know.

[he pinches his hand shut, all at once. and just like that, badou's cigarette goes dark, the burning ember in the ashy end fading into inert grey darkness. instead, a tiny pip of red light floats out into the air, and heads toward kavinsky, who watches it with mild interest.]

You got a name?

nah youre good!

[brokeassgoing]

[that quirk of his mouth quickens into a thin line of annoyance. K's gonna owe him a new cigarette at this point.]

What, you tellin' me your tricks ain't enough as is? Don't be so hard on yourself.

[that's a neat trick though]

I do happen to have a name, one I guess my parents gave me. Do you?

[pillz]

[it is a neat trick. kavinsky likes it. he shapes his hands into a circle in the air, the way that other, softer, gentler people make heart-frames with their fingers and palms. but there's no heart-camera. he just cups his stolen flame in his hand, watching it closely.

it throbs like a teeny tiny heart.]

Kavinsky.

[his eye switches over to look at the man from past the suspended flame.] I dub thee оранжев.

[brokeassgoing]

[Badou watches the sequel to this trick, a whistle shrill on his lips, but nonetheless impressed.]

That better not translate to cocksucker, but whatever. This trick, didja have this before or did that happen down on the planet?

[pillz]

[kavinsky would gladly name him cocksucker, really. he has no compunction about that. but the translation is innocuous: orange. maybe someday, he'll even tell.]

Kicked in post-planet. Used to be a white guy.

[he looks up at the strange with the cold cigarette, curious. badou seems like he knows something about it.]

[brokeassgoing]

Delayed reaction to....did they give you a blessing or whatever? Down there?

[he doesn't know shit about it.]

[pillz]

Yeah whatever. Guess so. [kavinsky hadn't thought much of it. he tends not to think much of most things, unless they can get him high. he shrugs his skinny shoulders up, smiles.

then he flicks his finger. the pip of flame races through the air, latches onto the cigarette. it flares up, begins to burn again gently.]

Why, you didn't get one?

[brokeassgoing]

[he flinches, expecting his hair to catch fire or something but he's pleasantly surprised. a huff of a pleased laugh and he takes a puff.]

Mmmm. No. Don't believe in that kinda shit, didn't know enough to try and get one and deal with the other shoe.

[pillz]

The other shoe? [is that space slang? kavinsky doesn't know. he drums his fingers on the thickness of space-proof glass behind him, a faint tinktinktink filtering into their hearing.] Oh. Fuck, sure. When it drops.

This kind of shit happen often? [he cocks his head and pushes off the window finally, his gold-flecked face hard to read in the shadow.]

[brokeassgoing]

That's right. And up here no one'll hear it drop cause they don't hear you scream in space.

[enough to give you shudders, that thought]

No fuckin' clue. I just got here myself-- but from what I've heard, it does. Depending on the planet.

[pillz]

The fuck, [seems to be a slightly odd combination of curses with kavinsky's alien face but it seems to come to him naturally. he finally starts toward the older man gesturing at him in a way that seems at once really fucking imperious and casual. give me one of those. the cigarettes.] You serious. Aight.

Tell me more, Jessica.

[brokeassgoing]

[Badou's face scrunches; in disbelief, in disagreement? either way he's holding on to the precious cigs he's got.]

About what, Regina?

[pillz]

Other planets.

[deprived of cigarettes?!?/ kavinsky looks down and around badou's pants area. it may seem somewhat disturbingly sexual, and it probably is, but mostly he's just trying to see where the cigarettes are so he can make an inappropriate grab at them through the older man's pockets.]

Extraplanetary experiences, baby!

[brokeassgoing]

[he's weirded out by the Look, brows furrowed and weight shifting on the balls of his feet in case he needs to bolt but.]

I dunno-- this is the first one I been on besides my own. All I know is somethin' weird's happening down there.....doesn't take much of a stretch to see that's why things are weirder.

[pillz]

[kavinsky identifies the pocket concealing the desired cigarettes. yes, he can always dream some of his own, but that would be conversationally awkward. and this is funnier, besides. he reaches over to stick his fingers into the denim pocket.

he might have learned a thing or five about personal space at some point in his life, but the lessons are long dead.]

Good shit, Sherlock.

[brokeassgoing]

THE FUCK!!! WHO TAUGHT YOU THESE SHITTY MANNERS?!

[startled as well as affronted, he slaps Kavinsky's hand away]

cw c-word

[pillz]

[ouch! kavinsky's little hand falls away. :(]

Same cunt who taught you how to share maybe, [he suggests, a moue on his gaunt face. it doesn't last.] Be that way. Shit.

[brokeassgoing]

[damn that tiny hand]

You're outta luck, they were more of a pussy than a cunt. If you woulda asked with them manners....

cw underage creepyness!!!!

[pillz]

[kavinsky puts his head to the side. stares at the redhead contemplatively. it's not that he has no manners whatsoever, of course, he can also write and do basic arithmetic as well. it's just that he's really rusty, you see. and a little prideful.

but mostly, he doesn't give much of a fuck either way.]

Please, mister. [he makes his voice plaintively, bizarrely small, his eyes starting to crease into laughter again.] I'll trade you for it, anything you want.

[brokeassgoing]

[Badou's nose scrunches up so far its a wonder it stays on his face, he looks so grossed out.]

Gross, you try to suck your mom's titties with that voice too?

[pillz]

Nah man. Pretty hard to talk with your mouth full.

[normal voice this time, at least. kavinsky's face crinkles up with laughter.]

C'mon. I said please.