( 003 » ENSEMBLE ) party time.

[reveriemod]

» 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.

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.

( ♪ )

Please remember to put warnings in subject lines if so required.

Comments

[thingpuncher]

[And Midnighter catches it with the same ease. He presses back, pressure not enough to break Kovacs, but certainly enough for him to feel Midnighter's strength.]

C'mon, I thought this was gonna be fun.

[resleeves]

( what the fuck was going on?

kovacs knows that he can't always be the strongest guy in the room but usually, he can at least give someone a challenge and this fucking fucker is acting like he's a goddamn gnat.

it's pissing kovacs off.

murder in his eyes, he strikes out again and again, using both hands to try and land blows high and low. let's see how quick this shithead is now. )

[thingpuncher]

[The shithead is pretty quick. He's left wondering if he should let some blows land just for the sake of kindness, but... eh. He's not feeling particularly kind. Midnighter palms them all, matching force for force, his stance becoming more defensive, more solid.]

Try aiming for the stomach, I hear that does a number on people.

[He's just curious to see if Streaker will try.]

[resleeves]

( goddammit.

growling, kovacs actually tries to kick this asshole in his gut rather than snatch his hands back. can't fucking block if your hands are full, asshole.

that's what he's hoping at least because his next step is going to be finding a chair and trying to crack it over his head. )

[thingpuncher]

Clever! Now you're getting it! [In case you were wondering, Midnighter's having a grand old time.]

[He catches both of Streaker's punches, and twists his knee, so it meets perfectly with his opponent's. The synchronisation could honestly be a little uncanny. Doesn't matter, though. One leg up, they're both off balance; Midnighter pushes back, trying to send Streaker backwards before he returns the favor.]

[resleeves]

( before kovacs has time to react, he's off balance and falling, hitting the floor with a loud smack. he grunts a little, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out what the fuck this guy was that he could do all of that so well.

even other envoys weren't that fucking good. even he wasn't that fucking good and it took a lot to admit that.

he doesn't stay down long, pushing himself up and then bodily throwing himself at the guy because he can block punches and kicks but can he block an entire body, especially one kovacs size? )

[thingpuncher]

[He could block.]

[He could also dodge. It'd be funnier to send this guy on his ass again. Quick as anything, he's out of the way, leaving Kovacs to stumble forward with all that momentum.]

[resleeves]

( and, with a head of steam, kovacs basically lunges out of his room and hits the other side of the corridor. it stuns him more than it hurts him and he turns around, dazed and blinking at this fucking horrible shithead. )

What the hell are you?

( not even envoys where that good. )

[thingpuncher]

I told you. Midnighter. [That same grin, knife sharp and full of teeth. A predatory thing. He's enjoying this too much.] You wanna keep going, or you need a nap?

[resleeves]

( that sounds like the name of a porn star. )

The fuck's a Midnighter?

( running into the wall had not been pleasant but he's pushing back to his feet, breathing hard and still itching for more. he can't let this go without at least getting a fucking glancing blow. )

Fuck you.

( even if he needed sleep, how could he with that terrible music blaring?

so now, he doesn't need sleep. he needs to step forward and just -- well, he was going to try and drive his knee so hard into the man's junk that he'd be tasting it for a week. )

[thingpuncher]

Me.

[He dodges out of the way, taking an extra second to tap Streaker on the nose while dancing away. He's playing with him and that's cruel, he knows it, but it's fun and something in his heart says he doesn't care anymore.]

[He'll wonder about that later.]

Oh, trying to play dirty now. Should I be offended, or flattered it took this long?

[resleeves]

( this time, he at least doesn't go crashing into a wall. just ends up skidding to a stop on his knees, breathing harder than he should be. it's fucking impossible for him to be this tired this quick. no. he could go for hours and hours.

he's done that before and this has barely lasted all of ten minutes. )

Don't be flattered.

( he turns around to look at midnighter though he doesn't get up just yet. hasn't decided if he will. )

I don't think there's anything down there to be flattered about.

( dick insults. aww yeah. )

[thingpuncher]

[Midnighter laughs, clearly enjoying himself. It's not mocking laughter. He's having fun. He likes this guy.]

Shouldn't bring that shit up when yours is on the table. Shit, I should have given you a different nickname. Grower, how's that work for you?

[resleeves]

It doesn't.

( kovacs doesn't think this is stalling. he's strategizing. trying to figure out if maybe he can figure out some weakness in this fucking piece of stone.

everything he'd tried so far had failed and he was running out of places to try and grab the guy especially considering he was bigger. )

You want to call me something, learn my name.

( fuck grower. )

Kovacs.

[thingpuncher]

And there I was, trying to be friendly.

[He wasn't trying at all.]

Nice to meet you, Kovacs! Planning your next hit? How long's that gonna take? [How suggestable is this guy?]

[resleeves]

Get out of my room.

( was he trying to save face? kind of. plus, he was fucking tired and the music was still blaring and quell's laughing was even louder than it had been. he was going to go fucking nuts and he couldn't even get a hit on this slab of stone. )

Get the fuck away from me.

( maybe he have one more thing up his sleeve. maybe he'd turn his back and kovacs could break his fucking skull.

or maybe he'd just sulk. )

[thingpuncher]

[There's... something wrong. Midnighter realizes it belatedly. This is the kind of shit he tries not to do. It's just taking advantage of people. Midnighter frowns, and puts up his hands, defensive and apologetic.]

Ah, shit. I was trying to help you wind down, and I just wound you up.

[Midnighter bows his head a little, giving Kovacs the benefit of a tell. He'll say this is all on him. It's all Midnighter's fault. What was he thinking?]

I'll leave you alone. Shouldn't've stuck my nose in.

[He turns to walk away.]

[resleeves]

( kovacs' brain actually hitches for a second, watching the change come over this guy. now, he could very well be playing kovacs, setting him up for more failure or this could be prime opportunity to try and fucking knock the shit out of him.

he has to at least try.

he's dried off throughout this whole encounter so he doesn't make wet sound as he rises to his feet slowly. he kind of wishes he had a chair in this room but there is a desk and there's nothing on it.

with a surge of adrenaline, kovacs picks up the desk and then hurls it at midnighter's departing back.

block that, asshole. )

[thingpuncher]

[The computer is at least kind enough to warn him about the fucking desk. Midnighter turns, and chooses not to block it or dodge. He doesn't deflect. He lets it break over him, shattering in two, metal twisting and breaking as thought it was hit with something much harder and more dense.]

[When the dust settles, Midnighter is bloody-- that certainly scratched him up-- but it's all superficial. Most importantly, he barely reacts to the pain. This is nothing compared to Bendix's operating table, after all.]

[He looks at the wreckage on the floor.]

Guess I owe you a desk.

[resleeves]

What the fuck are you?

( and don't say midnighter, he knows that! but that should not happen to
a regular person. even kovacs would have had to try and dodge that. it wouldn't have just broken over his body. )

Fucking dick.

( he wanted a new desk now. )

[thingpuncher]

A science experiment.

[It's the first honest answer that comes to mind, now that Midnighter's no longer trying to fuck with Kovacs.]

I'll get you a desk. [He touches his face, pulls his hand back and frowns at the blood. God, he must look terrifying.]

[resleeves]

Yeah well, join the fucking club.

( look at that, common ground. )

You look fine.

( but then again, kovacs almost always has blood on his face or his body or something. it's a thing. people like to try and beat him up. )

No rush on the desk. I wasn't fucking using it anyway.

( you're still a dick, midnighter. )

[thingpuncher]

'Kovacs' isn't a name they give science experiments. [Wow, way to be vague and ominous. He feels guilty just saying it.] I'll explain anything you want when this bullshit's worn off. Something fucking with my head.

[He took this way too far, for no goddamn reason. What was he thinking?]

I'm good for my word. I'll replace what I broke.

[resleeves]

I'm on my fourth body, dumbass.

( don't judge a book by its cover, big man. )

But fine. Maybe we'll chat, have a conversation once you get me my desk and this fucking music stops.

( so he doesn't try and kill this guy and fail miserably in front of people. thank fuck no one had walked by and seen this display. )

[thingpuncher]

[Midnighter opens his mouth to say something, but- this isn't a 'who's the biggest freak' contest, and he should resist the urge to make it one. He nods, and turns away, waving with the back of one bloodied hand.]