The Demon Plot: DEATH OF GRINDING MADNESS [July Player Event]

[pillz]

Who: Ensemble production, all individuals who opted in to the plot
When: July 9-21
Where: Two inhabited planets around the Ingress
What: The demon plot kicks off, in which malevolent shadow beings, copies of existing characters, begin to materialize and harass the PCs across the worlds. Plotting post is here, and a network post will go up within the next 2 days from several PCs advising on how to end the plot.
Warnings: Violence, psychological themes, possibly past trauma, etc.

Death of Grinding Madness
The Demon Plot
(mild spoilers for The Raven Cycle)

On July 9, a demon begins to make its way through the Ingress, summoned through by a shitty teenager.

July 9-12
Harrying

It's innocuous in the beginning. A movement in the corner of your eye, a shadow through a curtain-- merely a tree. But then the shadow figures begin to emerge into full being. Black-eyed wraiths that look like enemies, friends with whom you've had past conflict, or even you yourself. At first, it's merely harrying, minor harassment. Threatening gestures, broken gestures, jump scares.

Pursue them, and they disappear-- you might even catch a glimpse of how. They melt down into black slime, racing away across floors, through sewer grates, up walls, impossible to follow. By now, the worst of the climate freeze is over, but residual ice does pose a needles extra obstacle.

July 12-15
The Violence Escalates

In the days that follow, the situation only gets worse.

Sporadic harassment turns into outright attacks. The targeting is unmistakable. The shadow beings who can speak tell cruel tales of animosity, spite, even hatred. They are as deadly with their hands or strange powers as their doppelgangers are, and worse, they're functionally indestructible. Rip off one's head and it merely reforms out of sticky black ink. Limbs regenerate just as easily. The being might dispell for a few hours, but no doubt— it'll be back, if not to hurt you then someone you know.

The Savrii begin to notice. It's hard not to. While there is hardly an epidemic of panic, the disruptions are hard to miss-- broken windows, screams, random violence. Soon, the authorities begin to open safehouse facilities at which characters can seek shelter.

July 15-18
The Golem

On July 17, something horrific begins to happen— several shadow beings merge to form a massive golem in Kauto R1. It is a grotesque, horrifying spectacle, of limbs and eyes and pulsating flesh. It reaches almost sixty feet in height. Combined together, this shadow creature is considerably less intelligent than the individual beings were. However, it is also immensely strong and regenerates just like the smaller ones did.

Within the mall, hundreds of daytime shoppers are trapped within. Luckily, they have food and climate control. Perhaps you're one of them-- or perhaps you're trying to get in to provide medical care.

In the meantime, the attacks from the individual shadow beings don't stop. Despite the intelligence exhibited by some, all of them seem mindlessly bent on tormenting their targets until they are killed.

July 18-21
The Sacrifice

On the 9th day, a network post goes up (link pending, will be OOCly forward-dated to July 10th latest) revealing how to remove the invincibility of the attackers.

And by the 21st, the remaining beings utterly vanish without explanation— unless you happen to bear witness to the events that take place at St. Monmouth.

Comments

[otiosity]

Why would I run to anyone? I can take care of myself.

[Still, the jab makes her feel sick. Varric couldn't really think that way, could he? Feel any sort of animosity to Nate and Tony? He wasn't like that.

The sound of his boot cracking the ice makes her wince. The harsh sound was as unpleasant as the shadows voice. She considered running but... what if he decided to go after Nate or Pepper or Elena? Someone who couldn't defend as easily.

So she stood her ground and waited.]

[neverheardofhim]

Can you?

[The memories, or at least, Varric's memories, came trickling in. He knew better than what Hawke would try to have him believe. her capture before his arrival, the subsequent attempts at revenge. It made Varric's lips twist upward in a cold smirk as he planted his boot against the ice one last time. The wall crumbled enough for the dwarf to clamber through.]

Was that what you were doing, when you got yourself dragged off to that shithole planet? Is that what you're doing when you break down and cry at the memory.

[Now Cirrav reached back, pulling out an arrow and prepping it.]

[otiosity]

Actually, I wasn't dragged, I just appeared there. And then I blew up a lot of things to get myself out.

And I don't cry! Crying is too messy and I hate it when my nose runs.

[It's mostly true. Hawke doesn't really cry. It's just not her thing. She does have nightmares though that make her gasp and whimper. But that's different.

She hears him prepping the arrow and grits her teeth, trying to figure out how the fuck to fight this thing. On instinct, she fade steps to the side and tries to flank him. She's never been one for brute force.]

1/2

[neverheardofhim]

[Cirrav opened his mouth, then closed it. There was so much more he wanted to say, but despite never really knowing Hawke, he remembered clear as day the way she could talk her way out of trouble. He wanted to believe that her words were like acid in his ears, and that he couldn't be won over by that roguish charm, but stranger things had happened around the wild mage.

It was best, then, that he didn't take any chances. His finger inched toward the trigger, wrapped around it and -- ]

2/2

[neverheardofhim]

[The twang of nocked arrow being released cut through the air, but it was not Hawke that was hit. One minute, Cirrav's face was pristine, or at least as close to it as an amalgamation of hate and shadow could be. The next, a crossbow bolt pierced the back of his head, erupting from his eye socket.

The effect was instaneous and altogether horrifying. Immediately, shadowy goop sprang forth, consuming both ends of the bolt as the parasitic creature in control of the beast attempted to remedy the damage done.

Thankfully, Varric wasted no time.]

Time to move, Hawke.

[He stepped around the eerie iteration of himself, paused for a moment, then planted a boot to the back of its knee. It crumbled soundlessly, the slick mess still working to mend the damage done.

Stepping to Hawke's side, he took hold of her elbow and gazed up at her. It wasn't a lovelorn glance of a hero rescuing his damsel, but a promise. There was no evil, no shadow in his eyes. The man beside her was the real deal.]

Or do I need to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself?

[otiosity]

Nope. I'm good. I'd like for my head not to drag on the ground.

[Hawke started instinctively when he touched her. She was in battle mode and the shock of him at her side was too much to contain, even for her. Then she winced at how the jerking movement hurt her arm. Gripping her shoulder tightly she stepped back, away from both Varrics, trying to get a handle on herself.]

[neverheardofhim]

[The minute movement was noted, but for the time being, Varric couldn't bring himself to care. He'd "said" his piece, and it had been a necessary effort in order to convey an important point. He could feel guilty later, when they were licking their wounds over a pint of ale.

From behind them, there was a snap, and Cirrav started forward. The arrow in his eye had been devoured, though there was still a considerable hole in his face. Nonetheless, the creature started forward, blindly loosing an arrow that shot between the two of them.]

So much for a speedy exit, eh, Hawke? [Varric spoke with a crooked grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They'd fought a great number of enemies, and faced with anything else, Varric might have verged on the cocky. But he'd never fought himself before, and frankly? He didn't like the sound of it.]

What's the plan?

[otiosity]

Why do I have to have a plan? You're the one who jumped in at the exact right moment. Isn't that the character that usually comes up with a plan?

[She glances at him, catches his humorless eyes, and then looks away. This is deeply unpleasant and Hawke feels nauseous just looking at the figure that looks like Varric distorting as it reforms from its injury.]

[neverheardofhim]

Figured you might want to change things up.

[And because Varric had no idea how he was going to take the blighted thing out. It had been stalking both him and his contacts for days now, and even his best efforts had failed to fell the beast. Hawke might not have been his go-to tactician, but unconventional enemies had to call for unconventional methods, right?]

What did those kids say about how to handle these things, anyway?

[Varric was beginning to regret not paying more attention to what the broadcast had said.]

[otiosity]

Isn't it unconventional for the unconventional to be conventional?

[It's just filler, really. She throws up a barrier around them and then a wave of flames at the shadow. It won't do anything but at least it might slow the thing down. Or save her from looking at it.]

Something feelings? Truth? Confession? It all sounded dreadful.

[neverheardofhim]

No, that's -- [Varric let out an exasperated sigh. Normally, he would have loved to play these sorts of games with Hawke. The presence of a mostly unkillable enemy, however, put a damper on Varric's desire to do so, however.

Twisting out from behind the newly formed ice barrier, Varric fired off a shot. It wasn't a critical blow like before -- the arrow struck and passed clean through the shadow's stomach. Immediately, the oily goop set to reforming itself, though it didn't distract the shadow from firing off an arrow in kind. The dwarf barely missed a matching injury to the eye.

Once he caught his breath, Varric's attention flicked back to Hawke.
He gave her an exasperated look, convinced almost entirely that she was screwing with him. He wished she would be just a little bit more serious, especially in a situation like this.]

Right. Okay. Feelings -- sure, Hawke. Nothing about fire burning it to death or something actually true?

[Varric wouldn't even consider the possibility of her being right. It was too much of a cliche, for starters.]

[otiosity]

You know, I just tried that and it didn't work. Isn't there some sort of saying about trying the same thing and expecting different res-

[A bolt catches her in the thigh and she stumbles, thrusting her staff forward to catch herself and ending up in a very vulnerable position. This... hurts it really fucking hurts and it limits both her ability to fight and to dodge.

Basically, this is fuckin' bad.]

[neverheardofhim]

[Time seemed to stand still. Varric heard the bolt fire, and ducked back into cover, thanking his stars that he'd managed to avoid it. It was only once he didn't hear it clatter against a wall, when he realized that Hawke had stopped talking, that he turned to her.

Crumpled as she was, there as no hiding the bolt erupting from her thigh. His thoughts immediately went to what little he knew of medicine and anatomy. Wounds there bled viciously, could easily kill a man within seconds. Even if that wasn't the case for her, it was obvious that she wasn't going to be able to flee from this fight.]

Hawke -- [The anguish in his voice was clear. What he saw before him was not a woman injured by the shadow -- which was bad enough as far as he was concerned. No, behind his minds eye, all he could see was the woman facing off against a horrific spider-demon.

Perhaps it was some thought at the back of his mind urging him forward, or perhaps it was Andraste, stepping in and grabbing him by the balls. Whatever the reason, he pushed in front of the woman. Bianca dropped from his hands, hitting the ground with a sharp clatter.]

A confession then. Is that what you want? [The shadow lifted its own crossbow, aiming it at Varric's heart. Not very convincing, but Varric had already promised himself that he wouldn't see Hawke die again. He'd breathe his last before she did.

If that meant embarrassing himself in a cliched display of romance and heroism, then he would do it. His only regret was that he couldn't think of a more eloquent way of putting it, other than simply spilling his guts to the shadow.]

I love her.

[For a moment, everything was still. The shadow gazed forward, frozen in place. And then, it pitched backwards to a degree that could only be considered inhuman. A shriek left its lips, high-pitched, ragged and horrid

But by the end of the sound? The beast was gone.]

[otiosity]

[Hawke drops to her knees, hands shaking, as her fingers brush the bolt. This is bad. Her thoughts are the same as Varric's: these wounds are dangerous and deadly and she needs to act fast. She can already feel herself getting lightheaded from the pain and blood loss.

Her staff clatters to the floor as one hand grips end of the bolt and the other is raised in preparation to try and heal what she can after the bolt tears the wrong way through her flesh. She steels herself with a deep breath and then pulls. The pain causes her to instantly scream and retch. Then she slams her palm down and a glowing green light emanates over the wound. She's shit at healing but she has to do something. She turns to ask Varric for help and suddenly he's not at her side but in front of her facing down his shadow.

"I love her".

And then it's gone.

Hawke blinks. Varric loves her. And she's that her. She doesn't know what to make of it. Varric had always been there for her. From when she lost Carver and her Mother, to when she came down with a horrible case of the flu, to dramatic hangovers, and silly injuries. They were always together. Varric and Hawke. Hawke and Varric.

But love... Hawke didn't like that word. It meant too many things. It was weighted. It tied you to people and places and things and trapped you there. She'd loved her mother and father and her siblings. She would have done anything for them. But they were gone now and you couldn't love ghosts as you could a person.

Tony, Pepper, Nate, and Elena... she felt something for them. Something that was hard to place. Was it love? Was she capable of loving them? Hawke didn't know.

Her head swam. Her palm was wet. She felt sick.]

Varric?

[neverheardofhim]

[Varric wouldn't consider himself a coward, but for a stretch of seconds the dwarf couldn't summon the gumption to turn around and face the woman. The weight of his words settled within his gut, enveloped in a miasma of both guilt and shame.

You could love a creature like Hawke all you wanted, but she was just like the dragons of their home. He could admire her from afar, write stories of her greatness, but he knew that there was no tying her down, no binding her to a single place or person. He'd admired that about her when they first met, and thought it almost poetic that said admiration was now biting him in the ass.

Finally, Andraste seemed to breathe just a speck of motivation into his form. He turned, expression stern and serious. Picking up the now cast aside bolt, the one that had maimed the mage before him, he tore into his sleeve at the shoulder, then tore at it until the entire strip of fabric came free. Hawke might have handled the bulk of the injury (with all of the blood that had accumulated on her pants, he couldn't really tell if she was still bleeding or not), but he wouldn't relax until she was certain she'd had proper care.]

Tie this around your leg for now. We need to get you help.

[otiosity]

It's fine.

[She replies quickly. It's not fine but she's working on making it fine, pushing all of her magic into it. The idea of being stuck in this situation, with these feelings hanging in the air, is more terrifying than his shadow could ever be. Still, she takes the fabric and ties it around her leg. Another item she can use to argue she's fine.

She struggles to her feet and then she hears a scream that makes her whip around. It's Pepper. Pepper is somewhere pleading, screaming, struggling. And Hawke has to go to her. She can't not.

Turning back to Varric she only mutters a "I'll see you later" before crashing through the door towards the commotion, not even concerned if he's following or not.]