The Hannya Mask

[warandpeace]

Who: Event Post | Open
When: Dec. 5th - 15th
Where: Around Avagi
What: A demon is haunting the station, spurred on by emotional responses. More information can be found here.
Warnings: Violence, possible death, body horror, etc.

THE HAUNTING

The onryō starts making her first patrols in the early morning when most people are comfortably asleep and not wanting to wake up. The sense of unease she creates is palpable, and initially she just looks at who is around. She chooses in the dark who she should be angry with, who is a foolish idiot for making her mistakes and who is an ignorant soul who ignored the anguish of someone else's attention. Everyone else is unimportant.

Occasionally, rarely though, she'll stop and look at something. Usually carved or drawn or molded, something someone used their hands to create. The very faintest of scraps of who she used to be, though that's barely significant. There's not enough left of that self to deter her from stopping more of the foolishness that damned her.

The Noh mask appears the same day, the same time as her first investigations get underway, and there it remains, conveniently close to where the Ingress once was.

The mask will always return to this original state the moment it's not being observed. It'll be returned to its resting place. If it's been destroyed or altered or damaged in any way, it'll be back to the state that it was when previously examined (even permanent marker would disappear).

It's made of cypress wood and is covered in layers of chalk paint and a glue-like sealant. On the back is a raised signature, indicating that it was handmade by an artisan. On closer examination (like swabbing or enhanced senses or super scanner) there's a bit of smoke damage, but otherwise it's not been worn many times. The straps attached are hardly frayed at all. However it's aged, it's not from scuffing or rough handling.

There might not be much time to notice or to bother with it, though. Not when people are being hunted in the shadows, when quick hands reach out from cabinets or a hunched form hangs upside down from underneath a table, waiting for someone to sit down too close to her.

Comments

Something's flowing, someone buried alive (see prompts for availability)

[aka_pistachio]

There is an awful sound this haunted town

Hallway of Chemistry between Unit 3 and the exit to the rest of the station. (Closed to Logan)

[ Kelly Ann was tired. Deep-down, bone tired. But she has shit to do, so she's going to do it. She turns the volume up on her phone (that is now just an MP3 player, but whatever) to the point the soft tinny sounds of music bleeding out from her earbuds is audible to others. On the days she got to keep him over night, Pino would come with her. But it was Peter's turn so she had to go alone.

She doesn't hear the skittering sound in the dark.

Not that there's anybody up, now. Just her dumb ass. She chugs coffee from her thermos. The hall seems weirdly extra spooky today. She feels on-edge in a way she usually doesn't. The lights are on a motion sensor to conserve energy. Each section lights up as she enters it. It always freaks her out the way the hall goes from dark to bright. Each time she gets close to the edge of one of the lit-up sections she expects something to jump out at her before the lights flare, revealing nothing. She keeps thinking she sees something skimming along the windows, like gauzy drapes. Or something spindly like some giant Jack Skellington spider on the ceiling. But then the lights flare and there's nothing.

Until she turns a corner, and the motion sensors don't pick her up in time.

It's not even a scream. Just a sharp inhalation of breath, then the sound of the thermos clattering to the floor, splashing coffee. And the tinny sound of music still playing over earbuds from the phone left on the floor.

Without anybody moving through the hall to trigger the motion sensors, the lights along Kelly Ann's path slowly shut off one by one. ]

It will not just be quiet

MedBay (Semi-closed, medical or security personnel)

[ Kelly Ann is not going to cry. Or whimper or do anything to make herself look even more pathetic and useless than she already is. She feels like she got hit by a truck, and every time she looks at her arms, all twisted and useless, she wants to puke. She can feel the swelling on her face and the scratches on her legs are still bleeding. Everything in between is a bruised, bleeding mess she can't even begin to identify. And she can't even take off her own clothes to help with the whole "Stitch up the parts that needs stitches" thing because that would involve moving her arms which is not going to happen. ]

So I think the worst part is, um... [ She takes a deep breath, which hurts but like a sore pain not a stabby pain so her ribs are probably ok ] My arms?

[ They dangle at her sides, definitely longer than they usually are, and angled wrong. ]

Some ghosts sing. Someone get called to the life

Common room of Chemistry Unit 3 (OTA)

[ She can't work. Not for a few days. Which sucks because now she has even more things she doesn't want to think about.

Everything hurts, her shoulders most of all. But she stretches out her small prescription of pain medication as far as she possibly could, halving the doses. Pain meds are important, and who knows how long their supply will last or when they'll be able to make or acquire more.

She has books to read, some music to listen to, and Pino. Who is perched contentedly on her knee as she huddles on the couch. Well, mostly contentedly. He nips at her when she shifts again, trying to find a position that doesn't make her shoulders feel like they're on fire. ]

Don't be mean, I'm your mother and I'm hurting.

[ Pino hisses and chatters. ]

Ugh, fine. Here's your meatsnack.

[ She reaches into her pocket for the packet of jerky bits she keeps for Pino, whimpering in pain as she does so. ]

(unit 3)

[quickfingers]

[Peter appears at the doorway, knocking on it as he lets himself in. Normally he would've just popped in but with what's been going on and a jumpy pet dino to take into account, he's moving slowly through the halls these days. But he's here to check on Kelly Ann, a bag over his shoulder and some fruit in hand - space apples aren't bad.

It's still freaky to know that Kelly Ann was attacked like that, inhabitants of the shuttle on edge - including himself. He thinks it's particularly unfair that she was targeted, and has made a point of stopping in to see her when he can. And considering his Loser-status and lack of much better to do before all this happened led to many visits then, it just means popping by even more frequently.]

Hey. How's things feeling?

unit 3

[notmarieanymore]

Pistachio? [Rogue knows her friend's in pain- Logan was the one that found her, after all. Whatever the hell it was, Rogue wasn't a fan. Furthermore, she knew how awful it was to sit around in pain, unable to do anything because you had to heal. So she was determined to bring Kelly Ann something at least moderately fun.]

You got some free time? I brought a deck of cards- or the Kaittan equivalent, at least. I thought maybe you'd want to play something?

[She shuffles them in her gloved hands, coming to stand in front of her friend and pet baby dinosaur.

Gosh, she wants to pet the dinosaur.]

unit 3

[lavelly]

[Lavellan knows the etiquette for politely inserting himself into a conversation with a chatty noble he needs to discuss alliances with, while speaking entirely in double entendre. He knows how to introduce himself to foreign dignitaries who would declare war at a poorly chosen phrase. He doesn't know what to do when faced with a door that opens automatically, and thus doesn't have handles.

Should he knock? Call out to announce his presence? Send a message on the ACE (fuck no)? In the end he does all of the above, except for the ACE message, because he still feels awkward with the thing.]

Er. Hello? Is Kelly Ann there?

medbay - GURL YOU GOT SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR ARMS...........

[tearsinajar]

[ Elena's in the medical wing to tend to anyone who needs it. Some have staggered in already, as broken looking as Kelly Ann, others have fallen in and spilled blood to leave the floor slippery after she'd cleaned up. Kelly Ann's entrance doesn't seem so startling until Elena's looking up from a logbook, dried blood forgotten in streaks on the side of her face and staining blonde strands. ]

Holy shit. Okay.

[ Logbook forgotten, she's moving around some of the counters, hurrying forward. Elena doesn't want to say that it looks bad but it Looks Bad. ]

Your arms, yeah they're... Let's take this one step at a time. [ Elena also doesn't want to touch her. Not yet. ] What other injuries do you have? Can you walk to one of the beds?

Calla | OTA

[callamities]

all aboard the nope train to fuck-that-ville (any room with a slammable door on the station)
[It’s the dead of night—or at least, the dead of the night-cycle in the sunless void of space. You are likely sleeping or if you’re a night owl, maybe you’re up working on a project. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, the night time quiet is broken by the loud patter of footsteps outside, followed rapidly by someone flinging open the door and slamming it closed in quick succession.

The clearly terrified young man stands with his back pressed to the door as if trying to hold something back and a loud rumble, almost like a growl, can be heard nearby.

He stammers incoherently for a few seconds, before he finally manages to string together a sentence.]

There’s a—a thing!

[Stephen King, he ain’t, but his panicked demeanor is more than enough to communicate that whatever this “thing” is, it isn’t good.]

diana prince | dceu | ota

[monomachy]

be careful making wishes in the dark, dark [first encounter, residential block]

Nights on Avagi are silent save for the humming of the half-living station, and Diana spends hours in her room lying awake for it. She misses the crashing of ocean waves, the calling of night birds, the crackling of nighttime fires. The soft sound of someone breathing beside her. The constant drone of electricity in the walls around her is too unnatural for her to find sleep easily.

So it is that when she hears something near her bed shift in a way it should not, she is up in an instant, feet hitting the cold metal floor and starting her further into wakefulness. What she sees at the foot of her bed might have stopped the heart of someone else.

A creature, shrouded in dark hair and with too many limbs to be of the natural plane draws its fingers over the carvings on her shield. The creature has not noticed her, and Diana takes full advantage of this. She reaches silently to the table beside her bed, withdrawing the Lasso of Hestia from its resting place.

Her hand tightens on the rope. The creature looks up at her, and Diana stares into the void of its face with a deep-seated dread.

In an instant, the onryō skitters for the door, keeping to the shadows thrown by the stars outside. The Amazon follows her, sprinting through the common area, following the sound of palms hitting metal. The creature is too fast for her, and it disappears into the darkness just as Diana bursts into the residential hallway, lasso glowing golden in her hands and body poised for battle. The white of her dress makes her look a ghost herself. Seeing nothing, she calls out into the darkness.

"Show yourself, demon!"

can't be sure when they've hit their mark [a trap, bartering block]

Antiope had spent thousands of years training her for this, and Diana is certain of her decision. Days ago she had encountered the strange ghoul herself, and now it has attacked several people on the station. She cannot simply do nothing--she must lure it out, capture it, kill it. She must protect the people here, and she will not fail them.

The bartering block, left mostly empty since their arrival, is where she lays her trap. Her shield is left out, along with several other metal objects she'd found in a storage locker. She doesn't know if it was the magic imbued in the armor that had drawn the demon out or simply the fact that it was made of metal; either way, she piles them all together and waits until night falls, making sure all the lights are turned off.

Hours pass, and she is finally rewarded for her efforts.

The onryō emerges from the shadows, ignoring the things she had found and going for the shield itself. The way she draws her hands over the worked metal is curious, almost... wistful. But Diana doesn't care. She knows the creature is dangerous, and she will not let it harm anyone else.

In the span of half a heartbeat, she leaps from her hiding place, lasso already drawn and glowing. She throws it and knows Hestia's spirit is with her when it loops securely around one of the demon's wrists. The beast opens its maw as if to wail, but no sound leaves its gaping jaws. It pulls at the lasso, but Diana will not be deterred. It is strong, but she knows she is stronger.

"Tell me what you are!" Her words are nothing short of a command, and the monster pulls at the lasso harder, sinking back into the shadows. "The lasso compels you! Tell me!"

and besides in the mean, mean time i'm dreaming of tearing you apart [wildcard]

[diana will do her best to track the onryō and save anyone it attacks. hit me up on plurk at watchet if you want to do something specific!]

First Encounter

[araignee_du_soir]

"Be careful whom you call demon."

It was easy to track the French accent to the one it belonged to as the blue-skinned woman approached from the way that actual demon Diana had been tracking had gone. Widowmaker had seen the creature, it passing by her as though she didn't even exist, but she hadn't thought it real at the time. She was a bit more focused on the woman with the golden lasso that looked very much like she had an issue with assassin.

"Some of us may take offense."

a trap

[vdova]

The bartering block didn't have much in the way of useful things for Natasha. It's not the first time she's made due, and she's back for a second round to see what she can find — mostly looking for things in the way of weaponry. She won't find her gauntlets or taser batons here, but anything would be useful. Even a knife. She's not the only one who's seen something weird, lately — a terrifying creature with four arms and no lower half. She's seen it stalking her out of the corner of her eye, and honestly Natasha would really like to have a gun, but those absolutely aren't forth coming.

Night falls, and the lights go out, and Natasha is leaving empty-handed when she hears the scuffle. She stops in the doorway, eyes narrowed, watching and listening over her shoulder.

Then she hears the shouting. Turning on her heel, Natasha heads right back into the bartering block, slinking her way through the shadows and around the mess. When she sees the glow of the lasso, she follows it, ducking down behind one of the counters to watch. But it doesn't matter.

The ghost senses her anyway, senses the lingering remnants of Sofia's determination to become the new Black Widow, and lunges against the rope towards Natasha's hiding spot, all four hands scrabbling against the ground, desperate to get to her. Natasha stands up, one foot pulled back, ready to run.

"How strong is that rope?"

I am so sorry Diana

[coercive]

[Laura is obsessed with subduing and destroying the demon. It's all she can think about some days, even when she's trying to spend time with her friends. The scent of the creature is burned into her senses, making her feel sick to her stomach even when she can't actually smell it at all. It angers her, confuses her in a way that makes her want to scream and kick holes in walls. So when she manages to run into Diana and the demon she doesn't hesitate. There's not a chance she's going to let something harm Diana.

Her claws are extended as she screams in rage, and takes off toward the pair at breakneck speed. She leaps and propels herself forward, jamming four claws into it's chest. Her feet press against the demon's shoulders, foot claws extending as she uses the vantage point to hop upward and try and kick a claw into its face. Of course, this doesn't actually do anything, and Laura once again screams in blind rage.

Diana's going to have to really distract her to talk her down from this. She's in protect mode.]

Vetra Nyx

[nyx_it]

BARTER BLOCK
[Raeka is gone.]

[She's nowhere. And the more she looks, the more she searches, the clearer it gets. But the turian woman doesn't give up. She can't give up. She can't let another Pathfinder, another friend, just up and vanish on her. Not without trying. Not without running herself absolutely ragged trying to find some bit of evidence the salarian was still around.]

[But there's nothing. Absolutely nothing.]

[For a brief moment, Vetra can be found in the Bartering Block. Alone for the time being, her omnitool the only source of light. It's fine, it's better like this. Because that way no one has to see her shoulders sag when she braces herself against a table.]

Damn it. [She's pressing a hand to her face, under her visor. Cracking a little. And heedless of the tendrils sliding out from beneath the heavy metal furniture.] Damn it, Raeka...

[Moments later? Vetra curses again. Louder, more frantic. Followed by loud, desperate banging sounds.]


HALLS
[She's still cursing, later.]

[Her face is smeared in blue, and she's holding onto the wall like a lifeline, expression twisted into something between pained and angry. Her rifle hanging off its strap from her back, the barrel of it still hot. Whatever just happened, the turian has clearly fought her way out.]

[Either on her own, or with someone else.]

[One hand scrubs over her jaw, and more blue coats her sleeve in response. One of her legs is at an awkward angle.]

[Heading to medical. Determined.]

Barter Block

[beautifulspaceraptor]

[ There'd been traces of Raeka's trail throughout the station. Most of them had been tied up with the scent of pests. All of them were more than a couple of days old by the time Nihlus found them. The final conclusion wasn't too pleasant, but ultimately unsurprising.

For the sake of thoroughness however, Nihlus starts checking the places that he hadn't already. The Music Hall, the Nursery- and now the Bartering Block, his scans lighting up the empty, dusty stalls.

He'd been a second away from moving on when distant shouting rises up from the depths of the block. ]

Nyx? [ Nihlus mutters to himself, vaulting over a table and sprinting down one of the alleyways.

The path splits and he slants his mandibles, trying to gauge the direction... there! ]

Nyx!

[ There's not really a second to spare trying to figure just what exactly was going on. Nihlus doesn't bother trying. He shoots his grapple-hand at the other Turian's cowl, the bionic claws locking down hard enough to dig into armor with a brief, splitting screech. ]

Hold on!

[ Bracing himself, heactivates the magna-clamps in his boots and then yanks back- hard- the tether going taut with a pitched twang. ]

[vdova]

[ She rounds the corner just in time to stop herself from running headlong into the Turian, and whatever surprise she has at seeing over six feet of bird alien in front of her is completely obfuscated by the fact that this person is hurt.

She doesn't bother asking, just moves forward to try and help take some of the weight off that bad leg. ] Where are you headed?

[tearmeanewone]

[Halls]

[Salvage is getting harder and harder to come by as the months go on, and Elizabeth can only organize the Moira's collection and peruse the additions she's made from Kaittos for so long. Plus, trying to develop a syllabus for Introductory Physics is proving to give her a headache, and so a walk seems the perfect thing to do.]

[Until she's wrestling with an impending sense of danger, settled right on her chest, as she walks with her bag through the seemingly darker halls of the station. She stops several times and listens, hard, for something that must be following her, but every time she strains to hear a telltale rustle or shift, there's nothing. Getting back to her room and locking the door seems like a good idea.]

[Elizabeth hurries, her heels creating enough noise that every single step she takes, she thinks she hears something moving under the sound of her fleeing. She stops again, as though to listen once more, then breaks into a run. If she's about to look ridiculous for running away from nothing, so be it, her pounding heart doesn't feel silly at all.]

[Especially not when something grabs her from behind.]

[No one has ever grabbed her like this in a friendly way, and so Elizabeth's reaction is practiced and automatic-- she brings her elbows back, she kicks and pulls away from the arms, she screams, and something connects in the right way because then she's free and running even faster. Tears are starting to flicker as Elizabeth panics and runs, and finally she sees one that will separate her from her attacker: unfinished floor. This is going to hurt.]

[She opens the tear, and her arm is wrenched back before she can clear the opening. Something dislocates or breaks, she's not sure which, and through the pain she looks up at what has her. She really wishes she hadn't looked, but the sheer disgust she feels at looking into the holes where this thing's eyes and mouth should be finally prompts her to pull her gun and fire repeatedly at the face. The creature lets go and Elizabeth falls, closing up the floor again before she lands on the level below.]

[Where is she? She doesn't know, she's barely able to see through the spots in her vision, but whatever was chasing her hopefully won't come through the ceiling.]


((OOC: Liz can land literally wherever you'd like her to! In front of your guy, right on top, a lab, a residential area, tears are funny and she's not looking so straight.))

[deal_me_in]

-unknown energy spike reading!

[The voice sounds alarmed, and perhaps slightly familiar if one has the opportunity to consider it.

Cayde's craning his head up at his Ghost's exclamation, half of a question out of his mouth and not enough to make a sentence when suddenly it's raining women. Well, maybe under different circumstances he might not complain.

As it is, he might have felt a little better about it if said woman didn't go landing on his head, and unfortunately Exos don't make for the most comfortable of landing pads.]

you can hate me now; and i'll be with you or without

[a_perfect_end]

and everything's aflame; it's all aglow (greenery; select threads are closed)

Day, here, is synched with the major cycle of the ship--an eight-hour solar loop that lets life thrive, some stalks closing where others open. Here, in this bower, white petals bloom wide for the reddening evening, opened soft and expectant toward oncoming night.

He has a moment's concept of crickets, a memory not his, tremulous and silver with the idea of tall grass: an evening creature, singing an evening song.

Irrelevant, nothing to do with the shears in his hand.

Errant blossoms scatter under the blades. All stragglers not aligned with the prime series meet their fate, bursting apart into the grass with even, measured snips of metal.

It'll be perfect when it's done.

and I know I can play that game (halls; open)

A loop of white clatters against his wrist with every piston stroke of his arm, all six feet of him absorbed entirely in a dead run.

Things move in the dark. The walls themselves breathe and crawl with a terrible force of dread. The lights are going out, but only in strategic places--though certainly, none of that matters now.

None of it.

He has one piece of useful advice for you:

"Run."

(It likes velocity and desperation. Welcome to the buffet line.)

let it take me away;

[gridfather]

Light footfalls interrupt the curt and careful snick of blade to blade. Their orbits have been aligned these recent evenings, sharing meditative silences across the wide green space- he's noticed it, turned it over with the work of his thumb against the white beads on his wrist, and let it go as easy as a quiet breath.

Besides, if Clu was going to take those shears to him, he'd have done so already.

"I liked that one," Flynn observes, gently wry.

Does he care about the grass stains on his white robes? Nah. There's more to gather still, while he takes a knee on Clu's right, checking the soil of the little green fractal he brought by...was it a week ago? Already watered, the damp earth sticking to his fingertips.

[notmarieanymore]

there's a furnace set on high && it's yearnings undefined (gym, closed to: logan)

A long time ago, Rogue had hated early morning Danger Room sessions with Logan. Now she lived for what should be early-morning runs. It was a great time for her to just be with Logan. They'd chat back and fourth as they ran around the track, catching up and generally enjoying each other's company. It was her time to spend with him alone, when she didn't have to share him with Laura.

Don't get her wrong- Laura was an astounding young woman. But sometimes she just wanted Logan to herself. So, early morning runs it was.

Today though, something's wrong. Rogue's having a harder time keeping up with her mentor, lagging behind. Every few moments, she glances over her shoulder, only to realize she's fallen behind and try to catch up. It's perhaps the tenth time Rogue's done this when she comes to a complete and total stop.

"Forget it. It's freakin' pointless!" She wants to tear her gloves off and throw them on the ground, stomp on them and destroy what kept her safe. What kept others safe from her. What's the point of trying to work out when her powers were useless in combat? Or even when the second she got home, if she and Charles were unsuccessful in controlling her power... She knew right where she was going, come hell or high water.

So instead of tearing her gloves off, Rogue settles for kicking the ground instead, looking something like an over-grown child.

kurt wagner [nightcrawler] ❧ ota

[shadowblends]

all this black and cruel despair (near chemistry unit 9 & 10)

[The awful scratching noises don't go unnoticed on Kurt's end.

He wakes with a start, rising up from his bed and clutching the blankets, frantic eyes scanning the area. At first, there's nothing to see; he can feel a peculiar tension in the air, something that makes him leap to his feet and rush across the unit, through the common room and out into the hallway.]

... hello? [queries the blue boy.]

[Noting the automated lights that slowly begin to fade out, Nightcrawler's eyebrows lift in surprise, head barely tipping to the side. It's as if someone had come (and gone) all in one movement. For a moment, he's reminded of Peter — the silly speedster — but what reason does he have to try and frighten him?] Is someone there?

[His voice echoes in the quiet, an eerie reminder that he's (apparently) alone right now, unless someone's heard him.]

this is an emergency (medbay)

[Nothing severe has happened, thankfully. He's well-versed in basic first aid by now, though where he'd gotten scraped isn't the most convenient of places to clean up himself. Thus, his seeking out help in the Medical wing.

Much to his dismay, when he shows up, the area is far too quiet for his liking. The air's not thick, like it'd been outside of their room. Kurt can't let that deter him from the idea of being followed, lest he leave himself open to a sneak attack.

He enters with caution, spares a quick glance around, then gets to work looking for things he'll need to clean up and bandage the scratch down his shoulderblade. Everything should be relatively easy to find, considering he's been here before-- by himself and with Adrien to accompany him.

No, what bothers him is the sudden appearance of the wound on his back when he doesn't remember running into anything and the awfully uncomfortable feeling of being watched.]

don't you hide your eyes from me (halls)

[After having heard others talk about this 'demon' that seems to be haunting them all, Kurt can finally admit that he hasn't been going crazy, that his unease wasn't all for nothing.

Now, he knows he cannot confront it on his own. That would be like walking into a gunfight with a knife, which might not necessarily be impossible for him, but details and such. He can hear it, skittering about on the ceiling above him, except he pays it no mind, allows her to draw closer, closer ...

And once he knows, Kurt turns, looks straight into the void that is the demon's mouth.] I see you, [he hisses, fangs bared, eyes glowing.

There's no noise as her mouth opens wider, makes like she might screech at him, before clambering back onto the ceiling, and taking off like a shot. He turns to follow, even attempts to teleport after her and only stops when he sees them coming upon another person.]

Look out!

open them and see me now (wildcard)

[ooc: none of these pique your interest? come at me with something of your own!!]

Re: kurt wagner [nightcrawler] ❧ ota

[handofrapture]

[Like Kurt, the Big Sister has also had something of a supernatural encounter. Unlike Kurt, she isn’t running from it—quite the opposite, in fact.

When she had woken to a strange, twisted little creature pawing at her unused armor, she hadn’t even considered fear as a response. Instead, she had pounced at it, looking to make it answer for its intrusion. It had slipped away, but the Big Sister had gotten a few good hits in before that happened. It stands to reason that it would slink off to the medbay to lick its wounds afterwards, so the Big Sister takes to a dark corner to wait on its reappearance

She’s disappointed when, after several minutes of waiting, someone else enters the medbay instead. Nonetheless, her interest is piqued when she sees him nursing a wound on his shoulder—a wound that looks like it could have come from the same being she fought.

She announces her presence with a loud footfall as she steps out of hiding. She’s not the most reassuring figure herself, a teenager’s body stretched to almost seven feet tall with yellow eyes that flash like a cat’s in the darkness. A gauntlet mounted with a long, thin spike is wrapped around her right arm.

She says nothing, only looks in open curiosity at the wound on his shoulder. Where had he gotten that?]

[beeped]

ｈａｌｌｗａｙｓ （ ｏｐｅｎ ）

[There's still a lot of areas where Richie has to memorize to be able to efficienly find his way around. It ultimately won't take too long; being the sort of kid who enjoys exploration, it's only a matter of time before he knows the entire station like the back of his hand.

He still has quite a way to go. One wrong turn during an attempt to make it to the Observation Deck from the Bartering Block and Richie finds himself in unfamiliar territory. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue at all. He would simply look to see if there was anything interesting around, and eventually find his way back to where he needs to go.

This is different, sort of. When Richie realizes he's lost, he still pushes on, but entire atmosphere for this wing feels strange. It's probably just because of the dim, flickering lights, and the fact that this hall doesn't look like it's as well-traveled as other areas. It's too quiet, and as the hairs on the back of his neck raise, he can't shake off the foreboding feeling that something isn't quite right and he shouldn't be here.

The last time he got this feeling--well, that was all the way back at the Neibolt house, which wasn't that long ago at all. He really should turn around and save exploring this area for another day. Preferably one where he's not alone.

Unfortunately, it's too late for that, and when he sees unnatural movement ahead of him--a dark mass that's darker than the rest of the hall, moving upward along the wall, then the ceiling, coming closer and closer--he can do nothing to stop the scream that leaves his throat raw.]

(ooc: Richie isn't obsessive at all, so ultimately he's going to be mostly untouched and ignored by the demon.)


ｃｈｅｍｉｓｔｒｙ， ｕｎｉｔ ５ （ ｃｌｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｍｒ． ｓｐａｇｈｅｔｔｉ ）

[Suddenly space doesn't seem quite as cool and better than Derry as he'd thought. After his close encounter with whatever that was, all he can think about is warning Eddie. There's a flurry of messages sent to him, most of them with spelling errors and hardly comprehensible. But he doesn't get a response.

It's annoying and inconvenient, but at least he's accustomed to tracking down his friends the old-fashioned way. Their room is on the opposite side of the station, so Richie decides to check all of the places he thinks Eddie might be along the way. Each one of them is positively Kaspbrak-free, so he continues his search until he makes it all the way back to their unit.

The door to their room slams open dramatically.] EDDIE. [Following this, his gaze actually falls onto his best friend.] What the hell happened to you?


ｓｏｍｅｗｈｅｒｅ （ ｃｌｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｋｕｒｔ ）

[Few things genuinely upset Richie, but one surefire way is for his best friend to get hurt. It's like Eddie breaking his arm all over again, but the one silver lining is there's no Sonia Kaspbrak to drive a wedge between their friendship. But it doesn't stop Richie from feeling terrible.

The only reason he's left Eddie's side at all is to head down to the medical wing to get some supplies to have on hand in their unit. The kid looks visibly upset--all frowns and furrowed brows instead of his usually cheerful demeanor.

He pays little mind to those around him--that is, until he sees so much blue in his periphery. Richie might not remember Kurt's name (he can't even recall if they were properly introduced), but he remembers having spoken to him recently. He seemed nice, and he's Eddie's friend. Right now, that's the most important thing.]

Hey. Can I talk to you?


ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ

[CYOA or contact me via PM or on plurk (calaveras) to work out a scenario. Richie will be available to witness demon attacks or attempt interventions/fight it off.]

somewhere;

[shadowblends]

[By this point, Kurt is already aware of the demon, trying to figure out ways to hinder it from getting too close to those he cares about. He's thought about setting up little traps-- nothing that would physically hurt anyone else, really. Small pressure points in the floor that would flash brilliant lights around the halls to chase their new stalker off.

What he isn't expecting to hear is Richie wandering about with that thing on the loose. Instead of immediately patronizing him, though, he does a neat heel-turn and faces him, blue skin smudged with dirt and other miscellaneous grime.]

Ja, of course, [he assures.

Before they launch into full-on conversation, he raises a hand, vigorously rubs at mess on his cheeks.] What's going on?

Laura

[coercive]

Closed to Richie:
[Laura never is comfortably asleep. She has bad dreams most nights and is a light sleeper to begin with, which means that the sense of unease that settles in upon her is noticed right away. It nearly suffocates her with how thick and potent it is, and she finds her senses on high alert. Her heart races and fire runs in her blood, making her claws itch to come out and her voice squeak in her throat as she tries to hold in a scream. Laura's a child of instinct, always fight over flight. She wants to fight more than anything.

Something's in her room, in the space she shares with Nill. That something's looking at her carved horse toy. Laura growls loud and blinks as the presence abruptly vanishes. It comes back the night after that, and then the next night after when she's snuck out of her family's unit and is pacing the dim hallways of Avagi. The feeling of dread and fear overwhelms her quickly, causing her to simply react with her instinct to fight. Her arms thrash, claws extending. And when the creature exposes itself and lunges toward her Laura stands her ground.

She lets out a piercing scream into the late hour and rushes forward, attempting to slice off one of those arms. Four is way too many to grab her with.]

Closed to Stan: cw violence

[In the days that come, Laura encounters this strange being many times. Each time is progressively more frustrating, due to the speed the demon moves with. She starts to patrol the halls, particularly near the unit her friends occupy. Eddie and the others are her responsibility, and she isn't going to let any of them get hurt. She thinks of Stan and the new friendship she's developing with him, something wonderful and very different from what she's formed with Eddie. Even Richie, with his big mouth and ability to make her so angry in no time at all will be safe if she has any say.

Her thoughts are on her friends when she hears the skittering and feels the telltale sign of the demon approaching. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end and she about faces, sniffing at the air to try and place it. Laura is fast and an incredible warrior. But her young age leads her to making mistakes. She isn't able to locate the creature and it manages to sneak right out of the dark corner she's standing in. It grabs her and manages to subdue her in a way she can't pull free from. Her arms are forced against her chest right as her claws pop free, making them go right into her chest. She screams in pain and rage, claws on her feet popping through her new shoes. They tear the fabric and she struggles against the darkness that's pulling her in.

She tries so hard to fight, but it manages to get her. She's pulled further and further into the black void, the weight of it crushing and numbing her to the point her eyes eventually roll back into her head. The last thing she remembers is screaming for her father, before a flash of searing pain makes her black out entirely.

She's not out for long though. She's deposited in the hall right by the boys' unit, ability kicking in quickly. She heals, coming to with a gasp. She's not alone though. The sound of someone's rapid beating heart draws in her attention, making her head turn over toward them.

It's Stan.]

It is not safe here.

[She points toward his room, telling him to go back inside.]

Open:

[After that, Laura's emotions get the best of her. She becomes obsessed with tracking down and killing the demon, which leads to more and more encounters that end with her getting her ass kicked. Sure, she gets in some good cuts and swipes, but nothing she does seems to be effective. Laura can be found on any given night covered in her own blood and healing cuts or bruises, or popping a broken bone back into place. She may also be found passed out in the dark corners of the hallways, or limping her way back toward her room with a scowl on her face that makes her look just like Logan. For those in her family that are blessed to get to live in the same unit as her, they may also find that near the 15th she bangs on the door that leads out to the rest of the station. Someone's figured out that she's sneaking out at night to go demon hunting and has managed to find a way to lock her inside for the night.]

[notmarieanymore]

Laura?

[Rogue had heard the door open, the smell of blood sharp in the air, so she'd gone to see who'd just come in. To her complete lack of surprise (which surprised her in turn more than anything) it was Laura. Immediately, her maternal instinct kicked into over drive.]

Laura, sugar- what happened? [She's going to look for bandages or something, they've got to have them around here. The fact that Laura is perfectly capable of healing on her own is completely forgot because there is a child here covered in blood.]

Oh my god. Did that... thing...? [Of course it was that thing. Who else would be so cruel to a child?]

cr: character death; circumstances afford me no second chance

[gridfather]

to tell you how much I've missed you; library (closed to Alan)

[ The library door is open.

There's a scattering of Go stones spilling out across the hall, white and black flecks in a sliver of cool, flickering light. Harmless, aren't they- another splash is here, just inside, drips in ones and twos delineating a winding path through shadowed stacks, a labyrinth in miniature.

If he hurries, there's a prize to be found: a form half hidden beneath a table, discarded as one might a rag doll. A back, the peek of pale feet; an arm set at too awkward an angle to be real, surely.

A disc in white, locked into its dock, quiet and unlit.

White flowers frame a head of silver hair, a crown of fragile little things over a face too terribly familiar for the man who finds it. No dream, no horrid imagining, just Flynn, still and serene in death, and wearing the ugly marks of violence on his throat. ]

APPARENTLY NOT BC U WON'T REMEMBER LEAVING OTL

[alan_1]

[The library is quiet, as it always is. Quieter now, in the early evening when most patrons have left. It’s become a habit for Alan, making a trip at the end of each day to the library’s computer lab to check the network’s error logs. There’s usually nothing of note. Still, it sets his mind at ease to know for sure. Even in space, one needs to have habits.

He isn’t paying much attention as he makes his way past the shelves and towards the computers, settled as he is into an already familiar routine. He’s only shaken from his thoughts by a slight aberration: a small, round pressure under one of his shoes at his next step. He lifts his foot and looks down, puzzled to see a small white bead on the carpeted floor—accompanied by another black one not too far away and another two leading away from that.

It takes him a moment to recognize them: Go stones, the kind he and Flynn have used in their occasional games on the station. A puzzled smile pulls at Alan’s lips. What are these doing here in the library, so far from their owner? They seem to form a path, as if dropped by someone on the move. Alan suddenly has the amusing mental image of Flynn walking around with a hole in his pocket, trailing black and white stones as he goes.

He picks up the ones he sees and follows them into the stacks, puzzlement growing as the path of black and white specks winds longer and longer. 30 years ago, he’d take it for a prank. Now, he can’t imagine Flynn risking losing the pieces of the only Go set on the station.

He keeps following the path, the collection of stones in his hand steadily growing—only to fall soundlessly to the floor when he emerges from the stacks.

Alan sees him in bits and pieces at first, as if his mind refuses to put them together into a coherent whole: an arm bent backwards, two outstretched legs, a crown of white flowers resting against gray hair. Alan feels the breath leave him in a rush. It’s Flynn, twisted and hurt and for a moment, all Alan can do is stand paralyzed in shock and horror.

Then, he’s kneeling next to his friend, a hand white-knuckled on his shoulder.]

Flynn! [He shakes him as if can stir him back to consciousness, unheeding of the cold under his palm. He doesn’t know who has done this to him—he doesn’t know if they’re still there. He needs to get Flynn away, to the medbay or at least somewhere safe.] Flynn, please.

Eddie Kaspbrak | Semi-Open

[clussy]

Fᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴀ ᴡɪʟᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ: ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ᴛʜɪs ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ.
(Cʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Hᴀᴡᴋᴇ) - (ᴄᴡ: ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴀss ʙᴇᴀᴛ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇʟsᴇ ɪs ɴᴇᴡ?)

(It started with a hangnail. A simple tag of skin sticking uncomfortably up against the side of his nail that kept irritating Eddie every time he brushed his finger against something. He stuck his finger in his mouth, and proceeded to remove it with a swift snag of his teeth. Gross, but twelve year old boys could be that way. It wasn't until the thing bled that it became an actual problem though. Eddie was in some hallway when it started. A tiny pinprick of red beaded up and he frowned down at it.

Lately, he had been trying to get better about being so paranoid about everything. But more lately, it had felt harder. He felt dreadful most days, anxious to the point of not knowing what to do with himself. Probably was driving his friends nuts with his more-than-usual ramblings. This little pinprick was enough to set his mind spinning. The potential space infections he still wasn't so sure didn't exist. His emotions swept up into a hectic frenzy, and before long, he was full on picturing himself having to get his arm severed. Lord! Oh, Lord. Eddie walked forward a few steps, trying not to cry, because how awful would that be? He's too busy rubbing at his face to notice the hand, sniffing, his soft little crying sounds echoing down the length of the hall way.

He hears soft nails on metal flooring before he hears anything else. He peels his fists away from his eyes just in time to see Kitty, and then not far behind, Hawke. Eddie quickly rubs harder at his face, not wanting to be caught crying over a fucking hangnail. He turns his wrist over to type out a quick message to Richie, trying to be good about the whole 'Hey, I'm really feeling like I need my inhaler! Can you please remind me I'm not asthmatic?' in simpler ways, but his fingers were clumsy due to shaking.

And that's when his arm is grabbed. The shock of it is seen clear as day on his face, blood draining clean out of him. The yank he receives snaps his arm cleanly, and he distantly can hear himself screaming, see Hawke fading rapidly from his vision as he's yanked into the darkness. Yet the funny thing was? His last thought was: This doesn't feel like It.

It had a more...alluring quality. It liked to play with its food before eating it. Whatever this was? Didn't give a damn. It ate like an adult, crunching Eddie up until he was unconscious and deposited into a crumpled heap in some hallway far away from the one he'd originally been taken from. The thing about twelve year olds getting put through the shredder was that it always looked bad even if it wasn't that bad. He wasn't even severely wounded, no where near death, but the kid looked rough.

There were hand print shaped bruises fused around his neck, and the spot on his arm where it had been snapped- thankfully the only bone broken. A few of his ribs had wound up bruised though, and maybe the worst part was the fact that his head had received a simple two inch cut that would probably need stitches, be very colorful for a couple weeks, but for now? It bled a lot which made Eddie look kind of scary laying there in a broken pile. The concussion and the bruised ribs were going to be a real bitch to deal with later. For now? Eddie was obliviously passed out.)

Iɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴡᴀʏs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛs ʜᴀᴅ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏᴏ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ.
(ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴍɪsᴛʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴛ 5 ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇs & ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ɪɴᴄʟɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ)

(Life was a real bitch to deal with.

The funny thing about Eddie was that physical beat-ups like this didn't send him into the same frenzy that stuff like colds did. It helped that his mom wasn't around to scream at him about getting into enough trouble that he wound up with his arm broken- again. All the same, Eddie wasn't in a great mood. He felt bad for scaring the living shit out of Hawke (and others, really), he felt stupid for getting caught by a dumb demon who, frankly, wasn't even that scary (everything had been too quick for him to be properly afraid). Eddie hadn't seen much beyond long black hair, and mostly, he just felt angry that he hadn't been able to fight back whatsoever. So much for training.

The bruised ribs might've been the worst part though. It hurt to breathe, hurt to walk around. So that meant not a lot to do. His arm was, once again, in a cast, and he kept staring at it with some subtle resentment because really. There were only two stitches on his forehead, which was bruised up pretty bad, and the hand prints around his neck were still dark. His voice was a bit rough from that too. It hurt to swallow too thickly, but nothing serious had been done. Eddie had spent a good deal of time first in his bedroom, sulking, but eventually moved his sulking out into the main area where he idly read some book he'd gotten from the library or flipped listlessly through its pages. Eddie had his aspirin with him pretty much all the time, swallowing pills down dry every couple of hours because between the ribs, the concussion, and the fresh break? He was in a decent amount of pain. Someone needed some serious cheering up.)

visitiiiing

[notmarieanymore]

[This demon was awful, and what was more, it was hurting her friends. Sure, a fully grown adult was one thing, but a kid? A kid with a shitty past who already dealt with some otherworldly demon? That was super out of line.

She wanted to find him immediately after the attack, but her worrying would get them nowhere. Besides, she had no idea about medical anything. So she waited until she was told Eddie'd returned to his quarters. That was when she made her move.

Grabbing a few flowers from the greenery, Rogue had created a makeshift bouquet which she hoped was masculine enough for the young boy. She's got those tucked into a fist when she enters.]

Hey, sugar. [Gosh, he looks awful. But she's not going to say that.] How you holding up? [She comes to sit gingerly at his feet on the couch. The urge to hug him is strong, but she holds back, her hands in her lap.] I brought you some flowers.

Wanda Maximoff | mostly ota

[seeingscarlet]

i. the house was awake with shadows and monsters
[It starts small, something cold prickling on the edge on her sensations. Avagi is a strange place, so Wanda doesn't really pay it much attention until the feeling intensifies.

Wherever she is, she stops dead in her tracks and closes her eyes, trying to focus. No, it's not Mother, it's nothing familiar to her at all...

Suddenly her eyes snap open, red and glowing with power. The first time this happens she doesn't know what it is - all she knows is that she needs to get away.

Unfortunately for Wanda, there's nowhere on this station she can truly hide from the onryō.]

We need to go. Now!

ii. who needs sleep? (closed to X-Wing and visitors)
[She's not sure why, but that thing keeps making a beeline for her everytime it sees her. Does her power call to it? Or is it something more?

Either way, Wanda's been having nightmares again and between that and Scary Lady popping up in unexpected places, she's afraid to sleep.

So regardless of the hour, she's standing in the kitchenette measuring out some of the precious coffee from Kaittos. She's exhausted. The corners of her vision are starting to get weird but sleep doesn't seem very safe.]

iii. wild card
[choose your own adventure!]

Open

[shipsandsealingwax]

In the halls

Bill keeps close to the walls of the hallways, a slingshot in his hand, drawn back but held low. A single silver slug loaded in. There's a good chance it won't do a thing against the creature or spirit on the loose, but there's no way to know unless someone tries, and Bill has never been the kind of kid to sit back and wait for someone else to act.

The adults of Derry were never reliable, and few if any ever lifted a finger to do anything when something happened, whether that was Henry Bowers, the kidnappings, or the actions of other adults in the town against the kids. He has no reason to assume the adults here are any different, and even if he believed it, he isn't going to sit back and wait for them to solve it. Not while his friends are in danger.

They swore to keep each other safe, and he was going to do exactly that. He draws the sling back taut at a sound around the corner of the hall, and raises his arm steadily before turning around to face who or what is on the other side.

[coercive]

Laura doesn't think Bill being out here is a good idea. But it's not really her choice to make, and if a friend wants to help fight then she's going to do her best to make sure he stays safe. She's never seen a slingshot up close so she's very curious about it, but knows this isn't the time. She needs to stay focused and let him know that she's there to help.

The sound of her boots hitting the metal flooring is quiet, but not silent. Her presence is announced long before she rounds the corner, and she stops as soon as she sees Bill has the weapon raised at her.

"She is coming," she dryly announces, pointing back over her shoulder. Whatever it is that's tormenting the station, she's determined to try and bring it down herself. If Bill's out here trying to do the same, then maybe they can do something useful and prove that age doesn't mean anything when it comes to being strong.

"But you should not shoot at me. It would just be a waste."

the doctor | semi-closed

[spacerhyme]

(closed to lavellan.)

[ the doctor's in the habit of wandering the corridors while most of the station's asleep (he never is), thinking and/or going partially mad from boredom. or he was, until quite recently. he really sees only half-glimpses of it, in the wee hours of the "morning": a flash of grasping fingers round the corner, a slithering tendril of jet-black hair, a streak of something bone-white in the dark. so little that it'd have almost been easy to overlook... if it hadn't been for the feeling that accompanied it.

no, he knows that feeling. he's been chased by enough bogeymen in the night to pay proper mind to the little hairs on the back of his neck, that dread settling in his gut.

and then people start turning up hurt.

so of course, he's gonna chase it right back.

first things first: collect clara. or at least, he would've, if the lift hadn't broken down on him. preoccupied as he was with mentally formulating a monster attack-plan or fifty, he'd boarded the lift without paying much mind at all to the other occupant. but the second the thing shudders and screeches to a halt mid-floor, he rounds on (what turns out to be) lavellan, exclaiming, ]

Wait— why's it stopped!?

[ like he'd know. ]

(wildcard.)

[ happy to plot something, so contact me @ hollandais if you'd like a personalized starter! ]

[lavelly]

[Lavellan merely eyes the lift's walls and ceiling dubiously.]

Why don't you tell me?

[After all, the Doctor is much more knowledgeable about this incomprehensible technology than he is. Why would Lavellan know the first thing about how this works?

If there's a bit to his voice, it's because he's irritated for much the same reason; he's been seeing flashes, feeling echoes of this presence for the past several days, and he'd also decided it was past time to gather resources and fortify.

And then, of course, this had to happen.]

Hopefully whatever this is doesn't know how to open doors.

tony stark | ota

[arcreact]

[ It's a day or two after the demon's first foray out into the open, and as such, many are probably already aware of a creature lurking in the shadows - Tony Stark certainly is.

It's why he's roaming the halls well after any non-insomniac should be in bed, a red-and-gold gauntlet on one hand and his ACE device clutched tightly in the other. Is it unwise to go looking for a four-armed demoness all alone in the middle of the night? Yeah. Does he do unwise things all the time as a matter of course? ... Well, yeah. Naturally.

He rounds a corner down another hallway, not exactly paying attention to where he's going. The mounting feeling of anxiety that starts to creep up isn't necessarily a giveaway, especially when one spends half their time in an anxiety coil and is currently courting bodily injury. Which is a shame, because a giveaway would have been helpful.

A flicker of movement catches his eye from a darkened corner and he whips around immediately, sending a repulsor blast toward it; though he doesn't hit his mark, the blast sends a shower of sparks down the hallway, which is likely to alert anyone who hadn't already noticed weirdos skulking around. He cranes his neck around the darkened hallway, the movement always seeming just beyond his line of sight. ]

Shit!

[ It's always something around here, isn't it??? ]

[deal_me_in]

[For Cayde, it's a general restlessness that has him roaming about at odd hours of the...well, they're aboard a space station. What are day and night up here?

When you've suddenly found yourself with a roommate the size and shape of a helicopter, you tend to value your personal space a little more. Sleep itself is a thing that Guardians can manage without for a longer time than normal humans, which means that sometimes you just feel the need to be doing things instead of wedged in a corner trying to get some shut-eye while hoping you don't end up getting crushed accidentally.

Ever since Elizabeth had brought it to his attention that something might be lurking around in the darkness, it's at least given him some option to spend his sleepless nights. Hunting in darkness is nothing unusual, but his Ghost provides light when needed, especially around corridors under refurbishment.

...not that you need the extra light to see and hear a blast like that. Glowing optics sweep towards the spot just down the hallway from his current position, the Exo exchanging a glance with his Ghost before proceeding, because obviously when someone's shooting, you head towards it. Hopefully Tony doesn't get blinded by the Ghost's light as it beams in his direction. Cayde brings up his handcannon reflexively before lowering it once he verifies that the person in question doesn't fit Liz's description of the 4-armed thing they're on the look out for.]

Oop! Heya! Chasing shadows?