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

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'."

"Nate, then." She took the correction in stride, even seemingly grateful to have received it. She firmly believed in leaving formality at the office's edge. "But my question still stands. It hurts just to have ours get pinched a little too roughly--" and she could remember the pain she'd experienced on being pinned against the bathhouse wall, though she reckoned his hurt had been exponentially worse. "Seems odd that they would develop even more of an obvious weak spot, in comparison."

He nodded as she repeated his name. It felt better to have people using that. It was more like being around those few people he called friends. "Mutation, right? Might not be intentional. Either that or the benefits outweigh the costs."

"...They fly, after all," she said by way of agreement. "And if that's not some gem of a benefit, then I don't know what is."

"So we need to find somewhere that doesn't work for them. Caves, maybe." Then he realized there was an elephant in the corner not yet addressed. She was talking to him, but there was someone that she really should be talking to. "... what about your brother?"

"He's fine. Still himself; he always is." A quiet pride wrangled its way through her otherwise very even-keeled tone. "But we keep in contact. Just in case. Turns out those books can come in handy. Besides, Chris can look after himself..." This last line was said with wry humour, as if it was at all possible that anyone could imply otherwise.

Except..."Wait. You've met?"

Nate was able to relax a little, if only because the thought of her brother going wacko would make things difficult for both of them.

"Just over the network. I recognized his last name. I figured, what were the chances of there being two Redfields in hundreds of realities and they not be related?"

Hmm.

"You didn't tell him about...what happened, did you?"

Because Claire hadn't breathed a word, yet. And she wished no undue ill will down on Nate's head.

"Do I look like I have a death wish?"

She looked relieved. It wasn't that she believed him foolish enough to blab something so incriminating to an older brother; rather, she liked to have confirmation of her bases being covered. Small blessings and all that.

"To be honest? It's hard to tell. You certainly did look it when we first met."

"No, I looked like that because I had a life wish. A very stubborn, very painful wish to live."

Edited 2013-06-02 02:28 (UTC)

She watched him -- quiet for a moment longer. "I suppose you're right. Stubborn and painful are exactly the words I would use to describe the man I met in the mountains."

He nodded as he prepared to say something, but was derailed by another thought.

"What about the tunnels?"

She didn't look thrilled with the idea, but she also didn't want to 'fess up to her distaste for enclosed spaces. So -- with an agreeable tone: "It would help with the flying problem. However, it would also take a bit of recon..."

You game?

"Recon in a dark tunnel built who knows when with passages that goes God only knows where?" He took a sip of tea. "Sounds like Tuesday."

And -- she reflected silently -- it sounded a great deal like her typical Tuesday about seven years ago. But something about this place (and perhaps this man) was egging her on to take up the old recklessness.

"We'll need flash lights."

Nate finished his cup before standing. "Time to go shopping."

Her head tilted, and she allowed the rest of the now cooling tea to flood into her throat. It was slightly spiced and perfect to get the blood a-pumping for a bit of cursory investigation. Claire pushed back from the table and stuck one hand in her pocket, making sure the can of mace didn't end up rather awkwardly on the floor.

"Some girls like Tiffany's. Me? I'll settle for a heavy Maglite."

"Now you're speaking my language."

For a moment he reached for his back pocket, instinctively going for a wallet that wouldn't be there, to pay for a bill that didn't exist. When he realized it wasn't there, he covered by propping his other hand behind him to stretch out his back. He then proceeded onward to the exit.

...She caught sight of that almost-action, and when she tilted her head next she also almost did something of her own. For the first time since these grand wings and strange happenings had started, Claire nearly smiled. But then she caught herself, pressed her lips into a firm line, and strode quickly to catch up with his retreating form.

"We may not be, you know. Speaking the same language. Apparently all languages are one, here. For all I know, you could speaking suavely in Italian."

"Il mio italiano è incredibile." He smirked as he concluded the statement. "But trust me, it's all English. Whether or not it's suave, well, that's another story."

A short, sharp laugh. The kind of laugh one laughed when things were funny, but not mirthful. Amusing, but not safe.

"American, then? I never did learn much about you when we first met..."

As he strolled down the stairs outside the tea shop, he only briefly looked over his shoulder to answer.

"I figured the accent would give it away, but you can't really trust those here." At least he'd heard people he suspected weren't American but had no noticeable accent. "But that's me. Regular old American. It's a pretty boring story, really. What about you?"

She kept a careful distance between them on the stairs -- watching the wing-lumps under his jacket more-so than anything else.

"American," she confirmed. "But one of the ones who does not speak Italian on the side."

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