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reverielogs2018-07-01 07:57 pm
reveriemod) wrote in reverielogs2018-07-01 07:57 pm
Entry tags:
- !mod-event,
- !open,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- angel sanctuary: sakuya kira,
- belgariad/malloreon: garion irongrip,
- castlevania: adrian ţepeş,
- danganronpa: gundam tanaka,
- dark angel: max guevara,
- dbh: connor,
- dceu: diana prince,
- devilman crybaby: akira fudo,
- devilman crybaby: ryo asuka,
- homestuck: dave strider,
- homestuck: terezi pyrope,
- kingdom hearts: aqua,
- marvel comics: kamala khan,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
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- mcu: steve rogers,
- mcu: wanda maximoff,
- original: haruto saitou,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- persona: haru okumura,
- persona: jun kurosu,
- persona: minato arisato,
- persona: ren amamiya,
- persona: yusuke kitagawa,
- star wars: bodhi rook,
- star wars: revan,
- stormlight archives: jasnah kholin,
- the expanse: josephus miller,
- the expanse: prax meng,
- the fall: arid,
- the last ship: mike slattery,
- tinker tailor soldier spy: ricki tarr,
- wildstorm comics: midnighter,
- wktd: jupiter,
- wktd: venus,
- xcu: erik lehnsherr,
- xcu: hank mccoy,
- xcu: raven darkholme,
- xcu: rogue
( 003 » ENSEMBLE ) party time.
» WHO? Everyone
» WHEN? July 1 to July 8
» WHERE? Entire Station
» WHAT? 168 hours of being forced to listen to cheesy music on repeat…
» WARNINGS? the mundane and slightly ridiculous becoming terrible, cheesy pop music, forced sleep deprivation, anger, loss of control, emotions, potential for stabbing, hallucinations, mania, memory loss, confusion, seizures, depression.
It starts in the mess hall and it starts slowly. At first, it can barely be heard over the conversations that are happening but as the volume increases, it becomes apparent that music is playing. Not just any music: characters from Earth will recognise these pop hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. They’re the kind of hits one might find on a Spotify playlist titled “Top 100 Cheesy Hits” or “Songs To Sing To In The Shower”. Power ballads. Boy bands. Girl bands. Woodstock.
Soon, the music can be heard all across the station, blasting from every speaker, audible in every room. Characters who were asleep in their quarters will be woken by the music’s volume, characters under the shower might want to start singing along (but remember, the walls might just be thin enough for the neighbours to hear) and if characters clear some chairs, there’s enough space in the bar for an impromptu dance floor.
Some characters have been working on improving the replicators, too, so while the alcohol supplies at the bar are dwindling and all but gone, the replicators are now capable of making something that’s palatable, even if it’s not quite up to scratch.
What’s the harm in having some fun? It’s just a little music, right?
It’s just a little music, right? And it is — but it just won’t seem to stop. The first few hours may have been entertaining, at least for those who did not get woken up by the sound of decades (centuries, even) in the past, but the music keeps going long past the point of entertainment.
After two hours, the songs start repeating. After six hours, they’re still playing. After twelve? Still playing. Twenty-four? Still playing.
Sleep becomes all but impossible as the music keeps playing loudly in every room and every corridor of the station. Attempts to shut it down prove unsuccessful.
Forty-eight hours later, the music is still playing.
Characters will begin to suffer the effects of sleep deprivation, in addition to the general irritation that might come from hearing the same two hours worth of cheesy pop songs on a loop: headaches, exhaustion, tremors, irritability and confusion to begin with, followed by lapses in memory, muscle aches, malaise, violent behaviour, hallucinations or mania as cognitive effects set in, possibly also seizures and depression.
And still, the music keeps playing.
The music and the sleep deprivation it causes are the reason for many of the symptoms people are feeling, but something is happening that goes even beyond the music, beyond the lack of sleep: something has changed about the food replicators.
The food is slowly getting better, for one, thanks to a group of individuals who’ve been working on improving them. Beyond that, however, imperceptible, the composition of the food comes with something extra -- namely heightened emotions. Whatever causes it, it’s in the water, too.
Those who are already angry feel angrier and have a harder time controlling that anger. Those who are already sad feel sadder and have a harder time not bursting into tears. Those who are already apathetic feel more apathetic and have a harder time prompting themselves to so much as move. The effect holds for all emotions, heightening them, making them harder to control or counteract. Impulses become action far more quickly than usual. Irritation at the music may become anger at the person singing along under their breath and that, in turn, may lead to someone getting stabbed with a plastic fork.
It’s nearly impossible to keep a cool head, though some people seem more affected than others.
OOC: This part of the plot is completely opt-in. Whatever characters are feeling will be heightened and strengthened and their impulse control lowered. Make sure to get ooc permission for any stabby action of comparable deeds, and keep in mind that non-con is prohibited in game.
After 168 hours, the music stops. Whatever was in the water and the food is gone again, meaning characters may never know it was there in the first place. After all, some of the effects of it could have been down to the sleep deprivation as well…
Still, there’s something off about the whole thing. It might seem like someone is watching them. Toying with them. But surely that’s just paranoia, right?
In the aftermath of sleep deprivation and poor impulse control, characters might want to get some sleep or try to mend those relationships that were damaged by careless words or people getting creative with the cutlery.
Please remember to put warnings in subject lines if so required.
» WHEN? July 1 to July 8
» WHERE? Entire Station
» WHAT? 168 hours of being forced to listen to cheesy music on repeat…
» WARNINGS? the mundane and slightly ridiculous becoming terrible, cheesy pop music, forced sleep deprivation, anger, loss of control, emotions, potential for stabbing, hallucinations, mania, memory loss, confusion, seizures, depression.
0 0 1 » LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED
It starts in the mess hall and it starts slowly. At first, it can barely be heard over the conversations that are happening but as the volume increases, it becomes apparent that music is playing. Not just any music: characters from Earth will recognise these pop hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. They’re the kind of hits one might find on a Spotify playlist titled “Top 100 Cheesy Hits” or “Songs To Sing To In The Shower”. Power ballads. Boy bands. Girl bands. Woodstock.
Soon, the music can be heard all across the station, blasting from every speaker, audible in every room. Characters who were asleep in their quarters will be woken by the music’s volume, characters under the shower might want to start singing along (but remember, the walls might just be thin enough for the neighbours to hear) and if characters clear some chairs, there’s enough space in the bar for an impromptu dance floor.
Some characters have been working on improving the replicators, too, so while the alcohol supplies at the bar are dwindling and all but gone, the replicators are now capable of making something that’s palatable, even if it’s not quite up to scratch.
What’s the harm in having some fun? It’s just a little music, right?
( ♪ )
0 0 2 » I WANT OFF THIS RIDE
It’s just a little music, right? And it is — but it just won’t seem to stop. The first few hours may have been entertaining, at least for those who did not get woken up by the sound of decades (centuries, even) in the past, but the music keeps going long past the point of entertainment.
After two hours, the songs start repeating. After six hours, they’re still playing. After twelve? Still playing. Twenty-four? Still playing.
Sleep becomes all but impossible as the music keeps playing loudly in every room and every corridor of the station. Attempts to shut it down prove unsuccessful.
Forty-eight hours later, the music is still playing.
Characters will begin to suffer the effects of sleep deprivation, in addition to the general irritation that might come from hearing the same two hours worth of cheesy pop songs on a loop: headaches, exhaustion, tremors, irritability and confusion to begin with, followed by lapses in memory, muscle aches, malaise, violent behaviour, hallucinations or mania as cognitive effects set in, possibly also seizures and depression.
And still, the music keeps playing.
( ♪ )
0 0 3 » THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE WATER
The music and the sleep deprivation it causes are the reason for many of the symptoms people are feeling, but something is happening that goes even beyond the music, beyond the lack of sleep: something has changed about the food replicators.
The food is slowly getting better, for one, thanks to a group of individuals who’ve been working on improving them. Beyond that, however, imperceptible, the composition of the food comes with something extra -- namely heightened emotions. Whatever causes it, it’s in the water, too.
Those who are already angry feel angrier and have a harder time controlling that anger. Those who are already sad feel sadder and have a harder time not bursting into tears. Those who are already apathetic feel more apathetic and have a harder time prompting themselves to so much as move. The effect holds for all emotions, heightening them, making them harder to control or counteract. Impulses become action far more quickly than usual. Irritation at the music may become anger at the person singing along under their breath and that, in turn, may lead to someone getting stabbed with a plastic fork.
It’s nearly impossible to keep a cool head, though some people seem more affected than others.
OOC: This part of the plot is completely opt-in. Whatever characters are feeling will be heightened and strengthened and their impulse control lowered. Make sure to get ooc permission for any stabby action of comparable deeds, and keep in mind that non-con is prohibited in game.
( ♪ )
0 0 4 » AFTERMATH
After 168 hours, the music stops. Whatever was in the water and the food is gone again, meaning characters may never know it was there in the first place. After all, some of the effects of it could have been down to the sleep deprivation as well…
Still, there’s something off about the whole thing. It might seem like someone is watching them. Toying with them. But surely that’s just paranoia, right?
In the aftermath of sleep deprivation and poor impulse control, characters might want to get some sleep or try to mend those relationships that were damaged by careless words or people getting creative with the cutlery.
( ♪ )
48
Angry, disappointed -- all of that fills up and he snaps--]
A fine thing for you to claim considering how eager you are to abandon what's inconvenient to you.
no subject
What?
What the hell's that supposed to mean?
no subject
I loathe to think I ever compared you to my mother.
no subject
[ His skin darkened in an angry, blotchy flush, something right between guilt and righteousness that he wouldn't be able to name flooding through him. ]
You don't know what the hell you're talking about. My crew are my family.
no subject
I have no family waiting for me. My mother is dead, and my father would sooner slay me than welcome me back with open arms. You are detestably selfish.
no subject
You don't think I know what I've done? I gave up everythin' to be with them, and I was still never enough. Who the hell - who the hell do you think you are, throwin' that in my face--
no subject
I only state what the truth is, don't you think. Or are you so convinced that you're a good man? You even had me fooled.
no subject
You think I would have to try so god damned hard to be good if I was? You think I don't have to - I don't have to live with it, every god damned day--
My crew and my ship is the first time I've ever been worth a damn, and I ain't going to apologise to anyone for feelin' like I belong there. Because I do.
no subject
Would you even put forth the effort of seeing them? Or are you so content with what you have because it's easy?
no subject
And here? [ He throws a hand out, gesturing to the empty space beyond the hull. ]
If we're even in the same god damn universe, my family is dead. And they've been dead for three hundred fucking years, and I never got - I never even got to say I was sorry--
[ It was getting impossible to see, his eyes swimming with tears, and he scrubbed angrily at them with his palm. ]
I never even got to see them--
no subject
What a terrible fool he is. Alex hadn't told him the whole story, but he never owed Alucard a reason why. He didn't owe him anything, and Alucard assumed the worst from what little he knew, ridiculous arrogant like he knew everything.
His anger was projected so, so hard. So pointlessly.
Like a flood breaching a dam, tears overflow and freely. Alucard does not try to stop them, the sudden overwhelming grief and regret filling his heart. Normally he could stifle such things, but it feels so impossible right now.]
I'm sorry.
[The words are whispered.]
You were right. I did not know.
no subject
He didn't reply - it wasn't even clear that he'd heard Alucard at all - as lowered his face into a hand and started to sob, shoulders shaking as he gave into it. ]
no subject
It doesn't even take drinking someone's blood, does it? No, all he had to do was yell and assume and destroy with words. The guilt and regret is crippling, and he wishes he could take it back. The despair inside is overwhelming.
He barely even tried at all, and he's done this.
Silently, he weeps, unable to take back a single word.
Ruined.
Alucard turns and takes off, dashing down the hallway. Because that, too, is an urge, to flee from a darkness made by his own undoing.]
no subject
Don't think about that. Think about something else. Focus. Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the air as it moves.
He walks. Which is nice, actually. He wasn't able to do that in his cell beneath the Pentagon. Walking the halls feels less like pacing in circles.
There's somebody in front of him. On the floor. Weeping. It's Alex. Because Erik is not in solitary confinement. Other people are here. He rubs the bite mark on his neck, under the collar of his jumpsuit. Other people are definitely here. No matter how hard it is, they aren't alone. It's better.
He crouches in front of Alex and waits a moment, wondering if he will notice him before he speaks. ]
Alex. Look at me.
no subject
Henr-- [ No. That was wrong. He'd seen the post on the network. A deep sense of shame spread over him instead. ] -- Erik.
no subject
Focus. ]
Alex. Listen to me. Focus on where we are.
[ He grabs Alex's hand and grips it. Alex is a good man. He's Erik's friend. Other emotions threaten around the edges, paranoia and insecurity and shame. Erik focuses on the truth that they are friends and all the warm affection that goes along with it. ]
Focus on this. [ He squeezes Alex's hand. ]
no subject
I don't know what I'll do if they're dead, and I never got to - to make it right--
no subject
[ He folds both of his hands around Alex's. True focus et cetera, et cetera. ]
The more you fight those feelings, the more they will fight back.
no subject
... We're all gonna die here. [ He said it very quiet, with haunted eyes and a tone of prophecy. ] That's it, ain't it. This place is gonna kill all of us, and we won't figure out a single damn thing about it.
no subject
[ He accepts it as fact because fighting it will make it worse. Like the wave of homesickness that washes over him at the thought of dying so many light years away in strange space. Imagine, being homesick for Earth. The idea is laughable. ]
Or we could return to our homes unharmed without figuring out anything and die there. Or we could find all of the answers, and die anyway. Death is inevitable.
no subject
I don't wanna die before - before tryin' to make things right--
no subject
Of course you don't want to die here. None of us want to die here. So keep your wits about you and don't give in.
no subject
Sorry. Sorry, I just gotta- gotta pull it together.
no subject
[ He grips Alex's hand. ]
This is real. I am really holding your hand. Start there.
no subject
... Yeah. I sure hope so, because otherwise I ain't got any idea where to start.
[ He really wasn't convinced any of them were real, but he wanted to be comforted, so he pushed the thought aside. ]
(no subject)