[open] you're a picture of the devil's daughter

[lavelly]

Who: Lavellan and YOU, FRIENDO
When: End of July to the start of the August plot
Where: You pick, I'm flex. Lavellan is going to be all over the place trying to avoid people he knows.
What: Lavellan lost some control of his magic as resurrection damage. The result: shitposting.
Warnings: Silliness, secondhand embarrassment

Maybe you're at a restaurant. Maybe you're having a nice walk in the park, trying to avoid eye contact with the mistrustful natives. Maybe you're commiting petty larceny. Whatever you're doing, you're minding your own business, and certainly not prepared to get hit in the face with a magical prank.

Well, that's just too bad, buddy.

You may find yourself dealing with one (or more!) of several different bizarre experiences:

• You're pretty sure that meal you ordered was perfectly hot, a moment ago (or maybe it was cold, as it happens). Whichever it was, it's very suddenly the opposite now.


• Everything you touch shocks you. Not like a static electricity problem, you get an actual zap of pain. Not a bad one! But it quickly gets really annoying.


• Everyone around you is starting to move very quickly, to a superhuman degree. Or is it that you're slowing down? Every second stretches longer and everything around you accelerates as you gradually... come... to... a... stop.


• Your shirt is on fire. Or your pants. Or your hair. Sorry about that.


• There's a sense of dread. Everything that was perfectly innocent a moment ago seems like a threat, now. That flower right there? Fuck that flower. You want to be far away from that flower. Just look at it. It's sinister.


• Feel free to play fast and loose with any of these abilities if none of the above appeal to you! Use your imagination. Have fun with it. I'll roll with whatever.

Whatever it is that happens to you, there's someone in your periphery--maybe you know him, maybe you don't. But after a few moments it will pass, and he'll approach you, running his hands in his hair and generally seeming totally discombobulated.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean--sorry. I don't know why this is happening."

[I will match format, go with whatever you feel comfortable with! And if you want a specific prompt or have any questions about how this stuff works, feel free to hit me up via PM or at listen.]

Comments

Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening me

[a_shadow]

[ It's a beautiful, clear day, despite the cold and the darkness, so Tex decides to go out for a jog after bundling up appropriately. Kauto 1 was spared some of the disasters that befell other regions, so she's glad to be living here.

It's about twenty minutes into her excursion that she seems to notice a crackling in the air. Before she has a chance to react, she comes to realize that her body has been hit by lightning—and has gone instantly unconscious. She's bodiless, being displayed as her armored hologram. ]

Fuck.

[ She can't exactly jostle her body to wake, and it remains unconscious as she tries to reanimate it.

Isn't this just peachy. ]

galileo (galileo) galileo (galileo)

[lavelly]

[Lavellan skids to a halt where he was running to intercept Tex as soon as he realized what he'd sent arcing toward her. Not that he'd have had any hope in outrunning lightning, but you can't fault him for trying. Something settles low and horrible in his stomach when he sees her collapse.]

Shit.

[He bends to kneel next to her body, panic mounting with every second. Is she dead? Did he kill her? Will she come back too, or is that only in special circumstances? Why does he keep fucking up literally everything he tries to do??

Pay no attention to the hologram standing in midair, like, right there.]

[sleepdarts]

( Luckily, though whether for Ana or Lavellan we'll never know, it isn't anything of Ana that is on fire, though sadly the book that she'd been looking in spontaneously sets alight.

The notes she'd made, a detail of some of the recent events... well, it was probably better that not just everyone could read it, though it had been nice to have a record.

Considering this place, and she's seen things set on fire before, Ana's looking up from the book once the fire is out, looking for someone nearby. It isn't necessarily Lavellan that Ana searches for, but he is a possible suspect...

Though when he himself runs over. Well, she should have known really )

Are you against research?

( JOKE. Or is it )

[lavelly]

[Lavellan's heart drops when he sees who it is. As if he doesn't already owe these people enough, he has to keep causing them difficulty like this.

He's uncharacteristically subdued as he approaches.]

No, I--that was an accident. Is there anything I can do to replace it?

8 unbelievable things you never knew about fire

[inconsequence]

[They've not been back to the house. They've been digging up bulbs at the edge of R3 for the past...several days...as though bent on hoarding every plantable plant in the vicinity. One more thing they can uproot and destroy, they think idly, tearing up one of the tulip-like growths up from the roots and scowling at it.]

[It promptly bursts into flame.]

[Chara drops it immediately, backing away with eyes narrowed. They turn back to their appropriated wheelbarrow full of the stolen bulbs, only to discover that one of them has already sprung alight - and that therefore, the rest will soon follow.]

[They should probably flee, at this particular point. That would be their cue, would it not?]

[But instead they elect to simply stand there, and watch, as all their hard-earned plant matter goes up in flames.]

[lavelly]

[Of course Chara has to run into him while he's struggling with this. Of course he has to do something to harm them further.

He stays a good distance away, not wanting to startle them into running away again--but that hadn't actually been them, had it? Maybe he should just leave them alone, but he can't.]

I'm sorry.

[It feels hollow, but there's nothing really else to say.]

I'll help you find more.

[a_perfect_end]

Listen!

Do...d'you smell something? It's definitely there, equal parts Paul Mitchell and eau du brush fire, and--and is that just a touch of hair gel?

How would he even know; Programs don't really have a sense of smell.

Touch, however, has him shrieking in short order, inhuman reaction time rocketing him face-first into the nearest birdbath.

"Who the glitch're you?" Tilted through a soggy wall of sulk and bubbles.

What is the point of being vertical.

His beautiful, beautiful, perfect mane has been assaulted.

[lavelly]

Lavellan opens his mouth, halfway to yet another apology, and then immediately closes it again without saying anything. Instead, he holds up his hands in as conciliatory a gesture as he can manage.

There is a lot here he is very confused by.

"I assure you I am as penitent as I can be, but I have to say, I've never known hair to be quite so inflammable."

He pauses, wondering how to ask this. Then he decides to shelve that question for another time.

"How extensive is the damage?"

(Oh right, the man asked him a question. Well, that can wait.)

for shepshep

[lavelly]

[He's not on the EN-line for any particular reason. It just lets him be in motion without any effort on his part, gives him new things to stare at dully as time goes by. Maybe he'll never move again. Maybe he'll just stay here until he starves to death. He's stopped wondering why his magic doesn't work properly anymore, stopped trying to make sense of it. Stopped trying to make sense of anything. Instead he'll just exist until he stops.

He doesn't speak or make eye contact with anyone else in the car, and nobody tries to do the same with him. Some probably know who he is, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't know how long he's been there, either, until something makes him look up--maybe it's a noise, a voice, or just something feels wrong enough to make him react--and he realizes that it's night, and the car is empty.

And Shepard has just stepped on.]

[squadgoals]

[More fires to put out.

At least, in this case, it wasn't literal ones. A combination of a hand extinguisher and automated systems had done the bulk of the work, there. The rest had just been a matter of waiting for the embers to flame down. Now, she was left just scraping up the remains of her business, attempting to reorganize it into a workable machine again. Hemorrhaging money, plus the destruction of all her apartment's worldly possessions, had left her on the lower side of the senc scale.

Easy come, easy go.

And now here she was, on her way home to the most unlikely combination of roommates. At some point, she'd have to pick up food — Nihlus had begun to be extremely insistent about "three square meals", like some sort of public service announcement vid popup.

She leaves the office late, as late as possible, before rest hours kick in, but before last train. Her shadow had been... for lack of a better word, everywhere. Where once she'd been known as an upstanding citizen, now locals cringed away, dark looks shading their expressions.

Slipping into a seat, her whole body collapses, staring forward, unseeing. Forward. Always forward.

And Lavellan, right across.

It takes a solid handful of moments for her to blink, to click and recognize his presence — and then decide what to do with it.]

Hey.

shock me baby one more time

[shiro2hero]

[Finally -- allowed out of the hospital and back into his shuttle. Back to work. He's still limping, his shoulder is still sore, and breathing too hard or fast still hurts his ribs, but hey! Back to the shuttle.]

[Which immediately zaps him. Hard.]

[There's an undignified yell, and he pulls his hand back, staring at metal fingers like they've just betrayed him.]

What --? Seriously?

[Time to try again. With the same effect. The other hand. Same thing.]

... really.

[lavelly]

[Oh, it's Shiro. He isn't sure if it's better or worse that he keeps doing this to people he knows.]

Ah-- [He doesn't bother with preamble. If Shiro wants an explanation, he can ask for one.]

Give it some time. It should wear off.

wildcard!

[alterplex]

[ Events over the course of the past few weeks have given cause for Venom to eagle-eye on people with sagged shoulders and downcast looks; with all the planetside hostilities and the Shadow people causing unnecessary stress, fielding grievances seems to be an essential part of survival nowadays.

So here's Venom Snake, a big behemoth of a guy who looks like he crushes people with his thighs on the regular, striding towards Lavellan on silent feet. When he reaches the perch that Lavellan is sitting on, he tips his head in mild scrutiny. Wolfish and discerning. ]

...Something wrong?

[ Sick? Tired? Lost? He gestures to the canteen he has strapped to his side via holster, indicating that he has some water if Lavellan's feeling faint. ]

breaks out the world's tiniest violin

[lavelly]

[It's such a question he doesn't expect that he's actually speechless as he jerks up to look at Venom.

Is something wrong? How does he even begin to answer that? Or attempt to deflect from it? This is the problem: normal people, people who don't know, insist on interacting with him as if he is also just some normal person, struggling with something pedestrian. Something that can just be fixed.

The only reason this man would be asking this is if he has no idea who Lavellan is. And it's because of that that he's reluctant to answer truthfully.

It still takes him entirely too long to get the gears of his mind in motion.]

I-I--no. Nothing is wrong.

[Yeah. That's convincing.]

oh shit it's fire

[redshitlord]

[Okay, so Sideswipe still hasn't left the warehouse. He's probably gotten the shoulder at least seen to, so while the patchwork isn't pretty, he's not bleeding anymore.]

[So imagine his surprise, when the crate in his warehouse, the one he's using like a backrest, just up and catches fire.]

[... Sidewipe has screamed a lot in the last few weeks.]

[This is one more shriek.]

I DIDN'T DO IT!

[lavelly]

[Under normal circumstances, Lavellan might actually be glad to see Sideswipe, as much of a handful as the robot is. But these aren't normal circumstances, and he's very certain he doesn't actually have the energy for this.

By this point he's used enough to the spontaneous combustion that he's able to frost it out of existence almost as soon as it appears.]

Please calm down, Sideswipe.

Wwwwhhhhaaaaattt iiiiiisssss hhhhhaaappppppeennniiiinnnggggg

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Nihlus had strayed all of a hundred meters from his condo to grab a quick snack when things start getting... pretty damn weird.

He's already slow, limping from the healing bullet wound in his leg, so when things begin to slow down on his front? The Turian doesn't immediately notice. It's when he starts moving towards one of the benches with a nice stick of a dextro kebab-like thing in hand that it kind of hits him.

Oh, he thinks watching the crowd speed up like he'd suddenly be trapped in some kind of strange timelapse video.

Oh, fuck.

What the hell is happening this time?

[lavelly]

It takes Lavellan a bit to even notice that someone's affected. Things like sudden fire and lightning are fairly spectacular; someone who seems to be slowing through time, not so much. It's not until Nihlus is already nearly to a stop that he clues in.

Unfortunately, having never been on the end of it himself, he doesn't really know how to adjust to Nihlus's slowed perception, so Nihlus will probably be treated to the bizarre sight of an elf waving his hands in front of him impossibly fast, while speaking at an incomprehensible speed.

"--pleasestaycalmtheeffectswillwearoffshortly--"

zap ALL the synthetics!

[notglitching]

[An environment where one can draw stray charge isn't a strange concept to Rinzler. It describes the way a real system should be: code and energy, to drink or draw in from the world around you at your need. Still, it's been cycles since the program was last in a properly digital world.

And when he was, it certainly hadn't worked like this.

After nightfall, Rinzler's lights stand out enough normally. What stands out more? The small prickles of electricity arcing up to meet his steps. Some degree of power can be absorbed as a default, and certainly the program isn't going to show pain.

The speed with which he rounds on Lavellan for that apology certainly might imply some, though. Enjoy your growling, glaring murderprogram.]

[lavelly]

[Oh, no. Not this creep again.

At least everyone else who'd ended up on the wrong end of his experimentation had been someone he'd been able to explain the problem to. This guy... Lavellan has no idea what to think about this guy. All the better to keep this particular interaction brief as possible, then.

He spreads his arm and shrugs. How contrite.]

Sorry.

wildcard

[otiosity]

[How does Hawke know where Nelly lives? It's a fucking mystery.

However, it's no mystery that she's sitting on his couch eating his food and acting like there's not a thing wrong with that. She doesn't know Nelly that well, but he knows of her so that means its perfectly fine to show up to his house like she's a friend, right?

Right. Especially because he owes her and he's never going to live that down ever.

She looks up at him, midway through a bite of toast.]

Hey.

[lavelly]

[This is... exactly the opposite of what he expected to find when he walked in, which was nothing. It's also incredible timing: Lavellan has spent most of his time since discovering Solas was gone wandering aimlessly through every other possible location in Kauto, figuring if he was going to be stuck in his own head it'd be better to do so without staring at an empty house. He'd only come back now because he'd decided he ought to come get whatever things he has if he's going to just abandon the place.

But there's Hawke, and suddenly he knows, somehow, that plan has just been shot to hell.

He almost asks, how did you find me? But with Hawke that would be a pointless question, wouldn't it?]

How long have you been here?

hashtag wildcard

[shashka]

[ intermediary training was... not quite what Ocelot had expected. still, he could hardly expect that they would give all their secrets up to a newcomer this early in the game. hell, maybe it was a miracle that he'd been accepted in the first place.

it's there that he starts recognizing familiar faces. and one that sticks out in particular. he'd recognized him from here and there, though he'd never spoken with him directly. and while he had only arrived not too long ago himself, it was obvious he wasn't a local. which was genuinely odd.

and that meant... was he here for a similar purpose? or did he genuinely believe in their cause? only one way to find out. and so, after the fourth day, he decides to approach the guy, with a friendly smile on his face.

there's nothing threatening about him at all. ]

Hey. You're not Savrii either, are you?

[lavelly]

[Lavellan had been aware of Ocelot for a while for much the same reasons, but with much less suspicion involved. After all, he's the last person to have an issue with a refugee interested in mediation training.

...But it is curious, and he can't help but wonder. Did he also go through therapy and become inspired? Or need further guidance? Or does he just understand the benefit in what the Savrii do? It's not a question Lavellan can really ask. It isn't his business, and he's wary of overstepping boundaries besides. So it's almost a relief when the man approaches Lavellan first.]

Ah, no. [He offers a weak smile.] Thankfully they don't seen to mind much.

[neverheardofhim]

[At first, Varric didn't even realize there was a problem. Both his food and his beer had been sat down in front of him, and clearly the drink took priority. It was cold enough to make his skull ache, and he could have sworn he felt frost beneath his fingers.

It was only once he turned to his food, a hearty affair of meat, potatoes and gravy, that he realized there was a problem. The gravy was ice cold, the potatoes harder than rocks. He lifted his head, brows drawn tightly together, and prepared himself to go give the cook a wicked tongue lashing, when instead he spotted Lavellan.

If the man looked as if he were in better spirits, Varric might have heckled him, but not once did he suspect the elf of ruining his meal. Even if he did, the look on his face would have kept him from outright blaming him. It was clear there was something wrong, and pestering him about something as trivial as a fucked up meal could wait until later.]

Hey, kid. [Varric lifted his voice loud enough to be heard over the din of the room, then lifted his hand.]

Get over here.

[lavelly]

[Lavellan approaches Varric with an obvious wariness mixed with obvious confusion, and it isn't until he's woven through the crowd and actually has a view of Varric's table that he stops.

And winces.]

Ah. It's not ruined, is it?

[There's no point in pretending it isn't his fault.]

how electrifying

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[The first time it happens J doesn't pay much attention to it. When the zap comes from the doorknob of grocery store she just thinks she's somehow managed to get intense tension of static electricity or so. After all, it happens sometimes whenever her own powers are triggered. But as she goes through her groceries (read: buy a new pack of cigarettes) the zaps keeps happening and the each of them burning more. It's distracting and annoying.]

Shit, shit. [She swears as another sharp jolt of electricity hits her when cigarette pack is dropped on her palm. Fucking hell this is just great. Her looks are ruined, her cheek swollen and hidden underneath a big bandage and bruises decorating her throat and she feels absolutely miserable. She absolutely doesn't need this shit. Those are her thoughts as she exists the store, getting another irritating snap from the doorknob again.

But what she doesn't expect is to see a familiar face right outside of store, panicking about something.

..Wait.]

The fuck? [She whispers with a hoarse voice]

(ooc: probs should not that j's appearing as 'male' here.)

[lavelly]

[When she speaks, he looks up.

Then he does a double take.

It takes him a minute for his brain to catch up to what he's seeing, and realize why this person seems so familiar--he hadn't recognized her at first, with the different way of dress and the scar across her face.

Not that he has much room to judge, when it comes to face scars.]

J?