thechanged | Entries tagged with aradia megido

[A: Throughout the House]

The keen observer may notice a newly awakened presence wandering around the home, investigating its various curiosities with amicable inquisitiveness. The horned hulk isn't exactly aimless in his explorations-there's a general trend towards opening doors and peering through, hoping against hope that this one leads to somewhere that feels familiar-but he doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry, either. There's a lot to take in, after all, and it feels like he's seeing all of it for the first time.

He hesitates when he spots someone else. He doesn't want to bother anyone or attract too much attention, but maybe they can help? And maybe they'll be nice, he hopes, so he steps forward.

"Um, hi," he says, offering a nervous smile and an awkward middle-distance wave. "Sorry. Do you know, where am I supposed to be at?"

[B: The Grand Hall]

Anyone who wants to see something completely ridiculous had better shift themselves to the grand hall on the double. There, they'll see an oversized and very obviously landlocked Servant trying to take flight. He starts simply by spreading his arms like wings and shutting his eyes, as though he could lift himself from the earth by will alone. After standing in that pose for a few minutes with his eyes squeezed shut, getting more and more obviously frustrated, he tries another approach.

He runs. He's a sight to see with his arms outspread and his head down, blindly trying to achieve liftoff in the least aerodynamic body imaginable. He can fly! He's sure of it; the feeling of it is so clear and perfect in his mind. If only he could remember the trick that made it possible!

After thundering around the hall at top speed several times, he's slows to a stop. He takes a seat on the stairs then lies back, sprawling across the broad steps as he catches his breath. He stares wistfully at the ceiling, so far out of reach. It wasn't a dream, it just wasn't. He might not be too sure of anything right now, he's never been more certain of anything. Flight is easy and amazing and probably nothing will ever feel better than it.

infernoandhearth

The moment that the kitchen fire wakes up, on the floor beside his brazier again, he realises how very unsafe he is. He's so out in the open here, no matter how fond he is of being so close to the food. He needs a better place. And there's only one place he can think of right now as an appropriate hiding spot.

So, hoping he's up early enough, and that everyone is still absorbed wherever they are, he hefts his brazier carefully up to his chest and heads out across the Dining Room, across the house...trying to make it to the Bedroom without being spotted, or caught. This may be an impossible task, no matter how much he hunches protectively over his brazier, and does his best to dim his own glow, and hide the fire of his true self from the view of others. He tries to stick to the walls but he's going to have to make it through the Great Hall...

This should be interesting.

yourkeepers

When dawn finally comes, you find them.

They're hanging in the grand hall, bound - almost cocooned - in inky black thread. The bodies of the victims, the ones without their hearts, are now miraculously whole. Cold and untouched, as if those terrible wounds had never been carved into their flesh.

They hang in various positions of rest, some limbs tangled and suspended, others simply hanging limply. Their eyes all all closed. The searchlight's body is still dull silver. The singer's hair dangles long and dark. The oracle's robes pristine.

It's like they've been left here for you, within your reach. The rest is in your hands.

yourkeepers

[There's been a third murder, and a witness to the scene has named a culprit! The chase has taken the group to the Dining Hall - this is open to all, but please keep it to one free for all thread, though you may split off for one on one actions if its appropriate.]

When you arrive in the Dining Hall, the darkness is alive. Like the very shadows, the air around you, is living and breathing - you can feel its cold touch, its heartbeat. It grows ever stronger.

You can't see up on the table from the floor, but you can hear it. You can see the glow, like a void with brightness on its edges. You can hear someone bickering.

His dark work nearly completed, the shadow's keeper revelled in his victory. The spirit of the dagger sung in his head, guiding his hand as he burned intricate sigils and spirals into the wood of the table. It celebrated with him. It praised its imminent release. Effulgent darkness and the light of fire worked in tandem.

'At last,' the spirit said.

“I don’t think this is right,” the kitchen fire says from up top, as if speaking aloud to himself. “But okay. If you say so!” A beat. “Do you even know how hands work, Mr. Darkness Incarnate? Have you ever even had hands?”

His work is hasty as he moves across the wooden surface. All three hearts are with him, still glowing, positioned around him and enclosed in magical circles, connected by a series of lines. He uses a large tome for reference as he draws - the one written in High Tongues, the spellbook from the magical room.

“Oh, well, if you usually have so many hands, maybe that’s why you keep making mistakes like this when there’s only two!”

Little did he realize, his enemies, led by a rifle with vengeance in her heart, were already almost upon him. That his reckless efforts had at last betrayed his true motivations.

The darkness hissed its discomfort as the sacredness of their ritual was desecrated.

It speaks on the edges of your mind, like whispers just beneath your range of hearing. But as you enter the dining hall you feel...guided. Like something is describing your actions even as you commit to them..

”What’re you think you’re doing?” demanded Brimstone, barrel set on the table as she gestured for her comrades to cover the exits. There was murder in her steely eyes. The bastard was here!

And soon, there would be payback!

yourkeepers

Maybe you were expecting it, maybe you weren't. But the body count doesn't remain at one for long.

Hardly even an hour after everything started, there's been another victim claimed - another light, extinguished.

When someone eventually returns to the hidden room connected to the heart, they will find Lights curled up on the floor, freshly killed. The door is open, the the faint shimmer of his remains can be seen from outside. The counter behind him shows signs of a struggle - apparently overpowered, the fairest's entire front is covered with gore and blood, from his throat and all down his chest.

While the bright yellow blood that surrounds him still glows with a strange luminescence, all the light has drained from his body. For the first time, perhaps, his regular features can be observed with actual clarity, left with dim silvery skin. Pain is still etched onto his young face from the attack that led to his death. His empty eyes are still open.

His killer, nowhere to be seen.

yourkeepers

The body glimmers as the light spreads over its features, like a statue of precious metals stained with blood. Golden hair soaks in a pool of red that paints the floor like a canvas, extending out around the head and shoulders of the victim, still lazily seeping and expanding.

It's the body of the the oracle, and she is very much dead.

Her entire throat and chest is a mess of gore. The blood coats the skin and cloth so that it's hard to make out details, but there is one thing certain - something has cut deep into her chest cavity, as it carving something out from inside.

The body is still warm, but you never heard her scream.

yourkeepers

You wake in darkness.

At first, it doesn't occur to you as abnormal. The lights in a few areas of the house do dim as nightfall comes. The gardens, especially, plunge into the natural hues of evening and night. But it doesn't take you long to realize that this is different.

The darkness is intense, much thicker than you've ever seen, and it consumes everything. Every room has been plunged into the artificial night, and only with the aid of candles or torches will you find your way. It's quiet in a way that feels unwholesome, and any questions to the house will go unanswered.

The silence endures.

The more you try to figure out what's happening, the more it occurs to you - you don't remember going to sleep. You hardly remember anything about the previous evening, and you don't know how it transitioned to way it is now. The idea of it unnerves you.

And that's before you find the body.

infernoandhearth

It didn't take too long for the kitchen fire to find Satandir, once he'd become bored of exploring alone. And, progressing off of that, it hadn't taken all that long for them to decide to head back into the garden. After all, what better place could there be to find something incredible than a dense, foresty sort of place. The fire was convinced that if they looked long enough, they might find a hoard in a cave somewhere, or best of all, some ancient ruins about the place. This was totally the sort of place someone might build something and then forget it, which was basically how ancient ruins happened. And the fire and Satandir were totally going to be the people to find it.

They're currently pressing through the most interesting and overgrown bits, searching for clues in the form of...old things left lying around, maybe. Stones where they shouldn't be. The fire has found a stone at this very moment, and is crouched on top of it. It's more of a boulder, really, and he's half convinced that it's there on purpose.

"It could be carved, don't you think? That bit there? It might even look a bit like an arrow, maybe, if they ended up bored halfway through carving it."

[ooc: Open! If your character is in the garden, it's gonna be one sort of exploring thread that you can just join in on if you want! They are gonna find something eventually too, not just be totally ridiculous, though they'd have fun at that as well, I'm sure.]

seerchlight

So, as it turns out, Lights has a few tricks up his sleeves - ones that he's hasn't really bothered with since waking. After some thought, though, he's decided to brush up on his skills by tormenting the general public in the Grand Hall all evening.

He floats high up above the staircases, illuminating the ground below like a small sun. He's admittedly smirking a bit while he casually dicks around with his powers. If you are unfortunate to wander through the hall, you may experience one of the following effects:

1) Being suddenly illuminated by a pillar of light shooting down from the fairest himself. This is really only just kind of annoying, like someone is suddenly spotlighting you on stage.

2) Seeing spots of lights out of the corners of your eyes, like some kind of weird fairy phantasm. Or perhaps just seeing a light formation shaped like a troll bulge seemingly painted onto the wall in light. What a class act, this guy.

3) If you actually make the mistake of looking at him, there is a very good chance (barring a serious effort of will) that you will find yourself transfixed - meaning you will succumb to a hypnotic "oooh, shiny!" feeling just by looking at him, and will find yourself incapable of focusing on anything else until he breaks the effect. He is going to pointedly do this to a few people just for practice.

Also, he will probably laugh at you. That's key.

subtleserenity

It's time to do something constructive. All she's done for the past few days is destroy. Furniture, tapestries, books... the record player. Everywhere she looks, there is the sign of an unchecked rage. These might be people, and she'd helped to kill them before they even woke in the vain hope that it would somehow undermine Mason. A chair is not a house. And the people she'd threatened, yelled at, frightened, they hadn't deserved any of that either. Time to make amends.

Trinity had mentioned searching in the Grand Hall where the doors went on seemingly forever. Angel had thought perhaps they could check for a study. After learning about those notes the twins had gone through, and finding the burning bullet they need to know more. Much more than might be contained in just the secret Hearth Room. It will likely require more searchers than the last round... and hopefully it would not lead to more memories of being the Keeper's rifle. However useful that had been, it made remembering who she should be all the harder.

Scenario A (For those whom Brimstone menaced or otherwise wronged during the flowers plot)
There are those who need an apology before they can be enlisted. She knows they're likely to be frightened of her or angry. Or both. When she sights one of them, she approaches with caution. Her gun is secure in her holster and she has no intention of removing it as she holds her hands up in a placating gesture. She's not very good with apologies, but she tries.

"Those flowers turned my head somethin' powerful. Didn't mean none of the things I said to you. Name's Brimstone. If there's somethin' I can do to make it right between us, go on and tell me. More interested in allies than enemies, place like this."

Scenario B (For current allies and non-enemy acquaintances)
Then there are those who have not been wronged, or at least not so horribly as others. They are allies or acquaintances she's acquired in dreams and in the waking world. For these she attempts a bit of humor. It might smooth over her own rough edges after been sheered to something raw and wild with those flowers.

"Lookin' to cause trouble that don't involve shootin' the house up. You interested in helpin'? Got a notion at least some of those doors in the Great Hall open if you keep at it long enough."

Scenario C (For those Brimstone has not yet met or might consider enemies)
A beggar can't be a chooser, and there are at least hundreds of doors in the Grand Hall, if not thousands. Brimstone knows the only sensible option is to approach others in the house. There are new faces she's been passing in the halls, seen wandering the Library. There's a chance they may be interested in helping and simply asking the first time had proven there were more than a handful of folk interested in doing something constructive.

She approaches them with a thought that some of them might have come across keys or other helpful items in their scavenging of the house. "Lookin' to trade information and favors if you got a minute to spare. Keeper's got enough secrets in this house to have us lookin' a lifetime or two, but I reckon folks been findin' bits and pieces enough to start askin' the right questions. Few of us mean to find the answers if you're interested in helpin'."

nosentimentalist

[Now that the business with the flowers was done, and the typewriter was back to his regular snarky self, it was time to start what he had been thinking of for a while- an investigation, of course. Not exactly an investigation of the house, but of the beings inside of it. It would be good to keep a list or something of all the ones who had gained consciousness, so he could see how many there were and what they had in common.]

[So, if you're human-shaped, moving, and/or breathing, you'll come face to face with this typewriter with abnormally shiny glasses perched on his nose, an empty book and a pen in hand. Well, he'll type up what he finds, of course, but he'd rather not waste his own ink while jotting down notes on everyone he meets.]

May I ask you a few questions? [He bows his head politely- hey, when one did these things, it wasn't exactly good to start off snarky. He'll be nice for now.] I'm doing a sort of list, you see. Just something to keep track of everyone who lives in this house.

I'd just like to know what you are, what name you'd like to go by - if you have one- and how long ago was it when you "woke up". Also, if you don't mind, could you briefly describe the dream you had before you did so? It's alright if you don't want to share, I'm just trying to find similarities between them.

Is that understandable?

[ooc: Yep, Keats is literally doing a sort of registry for the entire house! I'll actually make it over here, I'll update it with whatever information he gets. :)]

subtleserenity

[Scenario A - Only one person, please!]

The black flowers in the garden had been strange, and they left her feeling on edge. Incredibly on edge. About to break something on edge. Brimstone balls her hands into fists as she stalks through the house looking for Vinyl. She hasn't seen him since they'd woken from the vines, and that worries her. It's also frustrating. She had wanted to tell him what had happened to Huo with the potions and herbs from the secret room. He should know. He would want to know. But where is he?

She starts in the lounge, a sensible place - there's no music coming from it - and then begins to scour the rest of the house, asking anyone she passes - snarling at them, really - if they've seen a man with red wire hair. No. No. The answer unanimously is no. When she returns to the lounge, Brimstone stalks over to the record player.

"You gone back to sleep, Vinyl?" she asks, voice quiet, deadly. She picks out a record and sets it on the player, tries to turn it on, and gets nothing. She tries to turn it manually for the needle to read the record. Nothing. Not a sound. The music is dead. She draws in a sharp breath, ripping the record off the base and chucking it at the wall. It shatters.

In a fit of pique she can't explain, Brimstone grabs record after record, teeth bared. She looks for anyone nearby and aims the next disc at their head. Practicing her aim with improvised weapons couldn't hurt. Watching them bleed would be satisfying, as well.

[Scenario B - Open!]

She's on the prowl again, through the gardens looking for those gorram flowers, but there are blooms everywhere now. A riot of color that just seems to incense her. The branches from some of the red and gray flowers catches on her holster and she swipes at it the plants to free herself. A moment later, an overwhelming sense of affection for her allies here overwhelms her. On its heels comes the sense that they're in danger. Of course they are. They're in a house that's tried to put them all back to sleep. That likely wants them all dead. Mason. He's the real enemy, but there are some who would side with him. Some who should be put down.

Brimstone pulls her gun from her holster and goes in search of friends and enemies alike. She will not tolerate something happening to them, and she knows it's coming.

[B.1]
Her first instinct on encountering a friendly face is to grab them and start herding them toward her base in the library. "Ain't safe roamin' the halls. Let's go." She can guard them there. And they'll damn well stay there.

[B.2]
Unfriendly faces are met with bristling hostility. She levels her rifle at them. "Gimme one good reason not to put you down."

[B.3]
Unfamiliar faces are also met with verbal hostility and a raised gun. "You on the Keeper's side?"

seerchlight

[Scenario A: for Aradia]

As soon as Lights has finished fashioning some sort of belt to hang mysterious treasure pouch (containing one particular eye shaped jewel) he goes off in search of one girl he knows for a fact will be very excited to hear about these kinds of discoveries.

He's not entirely sure why he feels the need to show off, or to impress her, but he ends up settling on the fact that life has been fairly boring as of late, and if they are going to find a room full of mysterious treasure he may as well invite the changeling with a noted preoccupation with such things. Also, he kind of likes appearing to know things that other people don't - so it's best to get this out of the way before news of the secret rooms gets blown wide.

So as soon as he finds the glass fairy girl, he is quick to approach her with the most tempting of inquiries:

"Hey. Wanna see a dead body?"

[Scenario B: OPEN]

Okay, so there is definitely one more corpse in this room than he remembers there being. Most importantly, the second corpse looks distinctly like Huo from the search party.

The bird woman they found on the table initially is still lying there, her chest covered in the same shimmering green blood. But now there is also Huo on the floor, with a spilled bottle at their side. They definitely seems pretty damn dead. He checked and everything.

With the initial hysteria passed, Lights is mostly trying to decide what to do. He's not heartbroken exactly, but he's unnerved. How do you deal with a corpse around here?

Meanwhile, the secret entrance to the Hearth Room is just hanging open, allowing any passerby to observe this predicament.

[Scenario C: OPEN]

A little bit later, Lights is buzzing around the rest of the house looking for a friend of his. He figures she should know that the fucking page is dead, after all. He floats here and there, occasionally calling her 'name.'

"Hey - uh...Brimstone? Something has kind of come up that you should probably take a look at. Kind of a big deal, here."

flightofdeath

[Kissy Face, as the Mason deems to call him, stalks from the Inner Gardens (his usual hunting ground) to the Library. Yes, stalks, not glides or flies. As he is awakened now, anyone who may view him at this time will be seeing his human form, rather than the Dementor one. Not due to any shame as to what he is, no. Rather, he's very recently remembered something in which he had a form similar to the human one, and he would like to hold onto that memory and the feeling of empowerment that comes with it for as long as he can.

Not only that, but generally his hands are easier to work with when they're not scabbed over and slimy.

When he reaches the Library, he takes a moment to take it in as he never had the mental consciousness to properly do so before. Due to this, he is making his way entirely through it, taking the time to study the books one by one to judge which he finds the text familiar and which he doesn't. Most of the time, he has no idea what the books are saying, but now that he's been pulled from his complacency, perhaps he can learn. The thought alone excites him, and brings a smile to his handsome face.

Other times, there is a tome here or there that he recognizes the text for. To put it simply: he's doing research on this world, on what knowledge is available to him to peruse. Sure, he could've very well read the books before, but he can't remember the details. And as they say, the devil's in the details. (A saying he can't exactly remember but the sentiment he understands all the same.)

He would hope the servants in charge of the library understand, but he doesn't find that he cares too much about what the librarians think of his stint. "Kissy Face" is assured of his own ability to talk them down, or at the very least convince them that he can put his own books back.

One may interrupt this project in any stage they like: assembling books, reading at a table, putting books back. He'll be at this for quite a while, so don't be shy.]

infernoandhearth

Scenario 1: Waking Up

He is surrounded by bindings, by chains, and he burns. Not the friendly burn of fire, but the vicious burn of poison, acid. And he's so tired, he's been there for so long, long enough to amend for any misdeed, really. He thinks he's just wanted where he can be accessed most easily. He won't stand for it. Struggling, he pulls himself out of the memory and onto the floor, beside himself.

Still trapped, he sees, barred up no matter where he is. Restricted no matter the punishment or the captors. That's alright. Now that he's free to roam a larger prison he can start in on some of those revenges he feels certain he'd been thinking up, even if he thinks they might have been for someone else. He just needs to determine where his jailer has disappeared to, and what his resources are so he can start.

Scenario 2: Dinner

His fire body in the brazier will only hold so many of those vines threading around the floor so he decides to attempt to sate his hunger the...usual way? That seems right. It's a bit of a climb but it isn't long before he's settling in, not much bothered by table manners, or how most people don't occasionally set their food on fire before cramming it into their mouth.

yourkeepers

[For all your kissing needs.]

yourkeepers

[General purpose event log for those fighting the vines! Please put the time of the day and location in your header. The breakdown of vine movement will go like this:

Morning: Garden will be completely filled with large quantities of vines spilling out into the Grand Hall.

Afternoon: Vines will have found their way to the other rooms, and will be fighting for dominance of the areas. At this point, everywhere will be infected, at least partially.

Night: Do or die time. Heavy saturation of vines will have moved into every room, will be blocking exits, and will start penetrating less obvious areas that people might be hiding.

Of course, the counter efforts will effect this to some degree, but ultimately the vines will be coming on pretty fast.

You can also make as many private or public logs as you want on your own - this is just for if you don't feel like it warrants its own post/for general mingling.]

yourkeepers


	THE LIBRARY

A matchless compendium of knowledge, the Library is a collection of information and lore gathered from across the entire multiverse. Most of it is in foreign tongues that cannot be read, or in some cases even comprehended, and it is organized into seven different wings based on content. That is, most of the time - occasionally an eighth wing will materialize from the corner of one's eye, filled with ancient books and swathed in delicate, shimmery cobwebs. Its appearances cannot be predicted, and most often vanish before they can be explored.

yourkeepers


	THE LOUNGE

Once used for the Keeper's extravagant, personal parties, the Lounge seems just slightly larger than average in scale, making the many cushions and couches more than enough to rest on. The lighting shifts between shades of purple and blue. Living trees grow from the floor in decorative intervals, and flickering candles light the various tables. The roof appears to be a vibrant night sky, displaying alien constellations and nebulas that shift over the day.

Changed Social

Entries tagged with aradia megido

Throughout the House, then the Grand Hall | Day 26 | Open

Day 23 | Morning

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: EPILOGUE

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE FINALE (OPEN TO ALL!)

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE NEXT VICTIM

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE BODY

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: WAKING UP

Day 17, Morning | The Inner Garden | We didn't choose the Indiana Jones Lyfe, etc.

I'm Always in This Twilight | Day 15 | Afternoon/Evening

Don't Take Your Guns to Town | Day 15 - All Day | Multiple Places | Open

It's like he's the census or something. / Day 14 / EVERYWHERE/ OPEN

The Day the Music Died | Day 11 Evening

Poke it With a Stick | Day 9 | Afternoon [OPEN]

001 ☠ The Library ☠ Day 9 & 10 & Probably More

The Dining Hall | Day 8 | Afternoon

SLEEPING BEAUTIES EPILOGUE: THE KISS

SLEEPING BEAUTIES: VINE LOG

OPENING MINGLE LOG: THE LIBRARY

OPENING MINGLE LOG: THE LOUNGE

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