lucetilogs | Possession Event

Entry tags:

Possession Event

Who: People in Luceti
What: Spiritual possession
When: The 26th to the 1st
Where: Luceti!
Summary: Check out the previous mod post.
Rating: If it gets smutty, move it somewhere private.

Starting at midnight on the 26th, Luceti and its inhabitants will find itself the focus of the Filial spirits, usually quiet and reclusive, now stepping out to deal with one of their own.

As promised, here is some additional information to help figure out how to play around with the spirits and interacting with similarly possessed people.

First off, each spirit has a certain time or place when they are at their most powerful. Consequently, characters possessed by them will enjoy these boosts and this in itself can be a deciding factor in what would otherwise be a stalemate. Here’s a quick run down:

Sona - She’s most powerful around lakes, rivers, and the ocean. Mostly this is concentrated at the southern lake.

Kipinn - He’s most powerful in high places, like mountain tops and the roofs of community buildings.

Faeren - She’s most powerful in the farmlands alongside things that grow.

Tsinku - He’s most powerful in the village itself, where technology thrives.

Eferin - He’s most powerful in the center of the forest where his heat may cause trees to burn. In fact, the upcoming forest fire may cause some trouble if his followers get too rowdy.

Hyt - It’s most powerful during the daytime under a bright sky.

Twila - It’s most powerful during the night time.

Nala- She has no domain and is generally welcome wherever she goes.

How possessed characters will deal with other possessed characters will depend on the interactions of the spirits themselves. A useful spreadsheet sums up these relationships. Those that have a friendly attitude to one another will generally allow ‘trespassers’ into their domain, but those they are not so friendly with may cause conflict.

Finally, to elaborate on Twila-possessed characters. Those with a natural affinity for darkness are likely to be possessed first. Once they have, they can try to recruit others less-compatible candidates to ‘join the cause’. Their goal is numbers. The more who are working with Twila, the better. Once they do, they’ll be inclined to act in their own self interest and if necessary, deal with others who try to get in their way. In the long term, the spirit Twila wants to stay this way, bonded to the Lucetians as hybrids, that way it cannot be imprisoned again. Think of it as pure survival instinct of an animal that’s spent way too long in a cage.

All isn’t lost. The other spirits may not be able to cage it again, but they won’t accept Twila reacting in this manner. Though it’s hard to tell what their beef with Twila is, they have an instinctive familiarity with the dark spirit and seem to act as its jail keepers.

They have the power to free people from Twila, but given their poor communication skills, figuring that out might just be a challenge. After all, the spirits can only communicate in shades of feeling and intentions, but not actually verbalize directions or marching orders. However, there will be a Malnosso post mid-event that will give everyone, possessed or otherwise, the info they need to turn things around.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nate was a bit more at ease. At the very least, he did a good job of acting it. Actually it had helped that his encounter with one such large winged person had ended fairly amicably. So while the situation concerned him, he wasn't looking at them as monsters. Not yet, anyway. Sometimes these transitions took time. Sometimes.

Okay, not often.

Upon spotting Claire at the tea shop's entrance, he approached from behind and gave a slight tap along the panel beside. After their first encounter, actual physical contact seemed beyond inappropriate.

She whirled at the sound, fingering the edge of a mace can cradled gently in her pocket. Where had she found a can of mace? Well -- wouldn't you like to know. Either way, it felt like a decent security blanket to keep 'round after a lifetime of monstrous encounters and a month of other kinds of weirdness.

Upon recognizing Nathan's face, she relaxed only minutely. After all, he was still the man who'd pinned her wings so painfully; threatened her with her own knife; marched her down to the village. Yet, she felt gratified to see that he was up and about. And she was relieved enough to see a familiar face who wasn't...changed. Her eyes lingered curiously on the wing-shaped lumps under his jacket, as if seeing really was believing. But that didn't mean she wouldn't remain on edge. Her own were displayed a bit more prominently, considering how she'd painstakingly put holes in the faded red denim of her jacket. This week, they were (however unbelievably) a badge of her normality.

"...You have truly got to stop doing that. Sneaking up on me."

"Old habits die hard."

He at least looked a big apologetic for getting the jump on her. He did back up a bit, resting himself up against the railing for the stairway leading up the tea shop. He was doing rather well acting at ease, even if he was waiting for her to find some way to get him back to their prior incident.

"So is this place all eastern stuff or can I get something smothered in sugar?"

Her hand slipped from her pocket -- mercifully maceless, for the time being -- and she tipped an empty palm towards the back of the shop.

"I've never been. Not before now." For she had resisted the notion of creating any kind of a routine outside of her exercise regimen. Chris's arrival was only just changing her heart about that notion, considering she'd seen more of him just this past week than she had the last six months. "They're bound to have something sweeter than your average brew -- although, and I hate to break it to you, but any amount of sugar in a cup of tea is something of a sin."

Her voice was cool. It could almost have been a joke, were she not so tightly wound due to the circumstances.

It was precisely because of the situation that Nathan was able to joke around. It was a desperate attempt to normalize things that were very not normal. The more serious things were, the more intolerable he got. It was a pattern and he was still alive so far.

"You're not going to turn out to be some kind of health nut, are you? Because I'll tell you right now, I'd rather take my chances with the angel brigade."

"Health? It has so little to do with health. Taste, on the other hand...?"

A shallow shrug. Either way, she planned to order a tall mug of chai -- or else the closest she could get to the warm scented beverage that reminded her so much of long nights spent with Aunt, pouring over Terra Save documents. "The right blend with a generous dash of milk is all that's needed." A pause. "I didn't expect you to have a sweet tooth."

Nate ordered the Earl Grey while making sure he claimed the sugar bowl on the table for himself, seeing as she'd have no need for it. He also requested ample creamer for his. Frankly, he didn't like tea much. So he intended to drown it in things not at all good for him.

"Well, I'm a pretty complex guy when I'm not threatening people."

"I'm of the opinion that you've got to be rather complex to threaten someone in the first place."

She tapped her decently (if not impressively) manicured fingers against the counter while their respective orders were filled. "Not, of course, in a good way."

For that, he looked apologetic and for the moment, dropped the witty banter. His attention was stolen by the sugar bowl he was twirling in his hand.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I overreacted." He could try to explain his situation, what he'd just been through, and so on. But it was all fairly pointless in light of what he put her through.

"...You were in pretty bad shape," she offered -- not as a token of forgiveness, but at least one of mitigation. "People do strange things when they feel threatened."

"Like drink tea." He nearly added more, but went silent as their cups of tea arrived. Once the server was gone, he continued. "So what do you think of all... this?"

"Touché."

And then her voice dropped: "A man named Derek Bliss called it an experiment, but I'm not so certain. The wings. The behaviour..."

She picked up her mug and weaved her way through chairs and tables until she found a spot that felt moderately secluded. As secluded as one could get in a public place. "I think they're mutating."

He followed her across the room, being momentarily disappointed by the lack of a window seat. But he was used to quiet corners for being conspirative. Usually on the subject of raiding a museum in a foreign country. Nate considered the descendants that were warped by the corpse in El Dorado. A scientist might consider that some kind of mutation. He figured it was some kind of pseudo-magical disease. But hell, he really had no idea what to make of all that. So he settled for what he did know.

"When you say mutating, do you mean like ninja turtles or are we talking X-Men?"

Edited 2013-05-31 15:20 (UTC)

She sighed a rather troubled sigh as she dumped a healthy dose of creamer into her chai, giving it a quick swirl with the wrong end of a shallow spoon before abandoning the silverware on the table's edge. How long was this X-Men thing going to bite her in the ass?

"Neither. Though apparently it's a topic of many potentially bruised feelings, in this place. I'm not talking about evolution or accident -- nor am I talking about why the flipping heck either of those two examples should be here in town -- but I am talking about design. Malevolent design."

"I'm going to be honest with you. I'm no scientist. But let's say I follow you. The first step would be what we've got, right? The big wings. Second step would be those getting bigger. So where does that leave three?"

Insanity and wanting to eat people's faces seemed a fair guess.

Her look was sympathetic. Claire was no scientist herself, but she had waded through more than her fair share of lab reports and research notes. Not to mention the specific knowledge required to keep abreast of Sherry's condition. She'd taken a few correspondence courses since joining Terra Save, but few had stuck. It was rather difficult to study the building blocks of biology and chemistry when you'd already been exposed to its bitter and dizzying heights.

Claire ran the edge of her thumb over her mug's lip. And she sighed. "Who knows? But for now, they at least seem to know who they are. That awareness might not last. Whatever has them in its grip, it's fair to assume it'll only consume more and more of who they used to be. Keep an eye out for anyone who no longer knows their name..."

Not that she'd seen any cases that had reached such a dire point, but it was what she could predict based on her own deeply personal experience. Although she hardly knew these people, it was tough not to associate their transformations with ones she'd witnessed in the past. Steve.

"Nathan Drake," he supplied helpfully. At this point, it was really all he could offer. "So let's say they decide they want to start eating our brains. What then? We need somewhere safe." He paused. "It might not hurt to start collecting some supplies."

"I've had the bare necessities stored under my bed since day one."

Claire was stretching the truth. It had been more like day three or four, once the shock had passed and the level-headed problem solving had come home to roost. "Jugs of water, first aid kits, a packed bag in case taking to the hills is a necessity." And a gun, which she refrained from mentioning here and now. Especially since it remained ammoless. "But all of that could be moot in the face of whatever these things are."

A thoughtful pause. Then, addressing one of his throwaway statements: "Why? Do you really expect them to start chowing down on our heads?"

He eased back into his chair with a careless shrug. "I've just seen more than enough movies, that's all."

He had, of course, met creatures like that. The less he thought about them, the better.

"I'm just saying that if things go south, we need to be ready. They won't just be flying, but they'll have magic too."

"...You don't happen to be hiding any of your own, are you?"

Magic. Because many here, it seemed, possessed it. Even prior to mutations.

"Relax. I'm from one of those boring worlds where we all have to settle with using guns to kill each other. It's very boring."

"Hey, now. There's nothing boring about tactical reloads."

"Nothing quite like changing cartridges when bullets are flying overhead, right? Given the people here, I don't think that will be a problem."

She very nearly goaded him further: no, Nathan, we only have to worry about stray blades. But perhaps she'd tormented the man enough for that stolen liberty. After all, he'd been fresh. Bewildered. She had no way of promising that she wouldn't have done the same to that red-eyed man had she been armed at the time.

"Hmm. Guess not. But...do you suppose their large wings are extra vulnerable, Nathan?"

He nearly began to answer, but opted to correct her instead. "Nate. It's weird when people call me 'Nathan'."

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