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magisteriaexe2024-11-17 04:12 pm
magisteriamods) wrote in magisteriaexe2024-11-17 04:12 pm
Event #003, Part I: The Symphony of Disruption
🌠The Symphony of Disruption đźŚ
Part I: The Darkness
OOC Notes: Here it is! The game's first "Intense Event"! Some special notes for this event --
* Death is possible, and PCs can also kill citizens or creatures in the distrct. This event will have special revive mechanics which will be explained later, and PCs will not have to go through the usual revival process for an in-game death. "Light Sentinels" can even kill fellow PCs as a means of saving them, and this will be briefly explained to them, though the means of revival and specifics around this won't be revealed until the event's second half.
* For the corruption element: your character does not necessarily have to be corrupted. If and how they are is up to player discretion, as is the extent and manifestation of the corruption. They can just get lucky or manage to resist through will power, however you want it. Characters can be brought back to themselves by the power of Light Sentinel allies, or by the alignment switch Blessing from the game's third TDM. If you wish to engage with the event both corrupted and un-corrupted via separate prompts/TLs, that is Fine.
Dark City
Locals familiar with the Supernatural Undercity will tell the Otherworlders that, during the autumn and winter seasons, it’s not unheard of for Magisteria to feel different. The spookier residents have a way of making their presence more known, and those with spooky potential have a way of going… more feral. The succubi and the demon women of the Entertainment District are known to come with a lot more bite, and only the biggest of daredevils would be advised to purchase their services during the apex of the season.
It’s different from year to year, but these seasonal changes are always mitigated by the Authorities of each district and their powers. The spooky season in Magisteria becomes a respectful celebration of the diversity of the undead, demons, succubi, and other creatures, and both locals and Otherworlders are encouraged to cede respectful distance to those who may be experiencing enhanced primal urges during these months.
This year, something is different. One night, a darkness falls which overtakes the Bios in the Entertainment District and the bright corners of High Rise Village.
The darkness is as heavy as a tangible thing. At night, the stars and moon disappear. When day comes, the sky is grey as slate.
A Grey Day
When dawn arrives, those living in High Rise Village will begin to hear notes of music. Dissonant, eerie, chaotic: disruptive. A symphony composed of a cacophony of sounds. Moreover, different people may hear different tunes. The only commonality is the lack of rhyme or reason, the lack of cohesion.
The songs play and weave through invisible algorithms, beckoning to the district’s citizens to unleash their inner turmoil, and other sides of themselves.
Holograms appear informing residents to take shelter and advising of the safest locations within the district. For weeks, most of the people and creatures of High Rise Village have been migrating to Evergreen Terrace, entrusting their protection to Arwyn. The apartments are brimming, full, and busy. The streets, by contrast, are ghostly, empty, and disorganized.
But not everyone can simply wait in the apartments and ride out the storm. After all, if this is an attack, someone(s) has to form a counter-strike. So Enforcers and other members of Magisteria’s various law enforcement agencies and vigilante groups are out and about, along with others who are not afraid of a conflict and who have sufficient training for battle.
No one demands that Otherworlders leave the safety of the apartments unless they have specifically expressed a will to do battle or unless they have a specific role to play in stopping – or ending – what’s coming, but should they enter High Rise Village, they will encounter the Chaos.
Chaos Comes to High Rise Village
Everything has the potential to become or manifest a twisted version of itself. The people, the animals, the buildings – even those in opposition, such as the fighters and those aligned with law enforcement. Even they can be Changed and altered by the chaos in the district.
Of course, those with powers are using them to resist in various ways, relying on their forces of will, but it’s like the whole district is in a trance, a hallucination, or perhaps a simulation.
But if that’s what this is, it feels all too real.
Throughout the district, spider-shaped lepidoperatives on thin, silver webs jump and move about. They’re fast and small and difficult to spot. Connected to the invisible mechanisms of Phantom Cipher’s Manifestation, these metallic insects can affect everything they touch by planting tokens on them: known as void imprints, wraith marks, and eclipse sigils, these tokens can induce a being to manifest or become a phantom version of themselves.
I. Alignment Shift(ed)
Otherworlders, natives, and creatures may become, or manifest (or both) different versions of themselves. In keeping with the spookier time of year, this other version could be a werewolf, a vampire, a ghostly manifestation, or a cryptid, or it could be One’s Self, Inversed: there is no apparent rhyme or reason to what you may become or what you may apparate. There may even be more than one “you” at a given time, depending on how far the effects of the corruption tokens reach.
Affected Otherworlders may find themselves attached to the silver webs, becoming like puppets. You may find that allies are now enemies, or enemies are allies. Nothing is as before, and everything is thrown into Chaos. Your actions may no longer be your own, and what you do or whom you fight may no longer be your choice.
II. Mecha Monstrosities
The district pulses with cyborgs and phantom creatures, and those who, like Phantom Cipher himself, seem to be a mixture of both. The Fractured have returned. Only now, they are walking about in the daylight, or what passes for daylight in the corrupted district.
Androids with barbs and spikes patrol the district, and many are not shy for conflict. Like Lysa’s “pet,” Grimm, these androids are powerful and can regenerate a certain number of times when attacked. Some will attack on sight, and others may try to “play” with the Otherworlders, or with citizens or creatures in the district, whether the latter are corrupted or not.
Of course, alignment-shifted PCs may also be able to ally destructively with such entities. Those on the path of destruction may find common ground in trying to take down the infrastructure of the district.
III. The Party of the Damned
All around, people, organic and inorganic, appear with skull-like features. There may even be faces you recognize, from work, from the clubs, from elsewhere in the district. But now, their features have changed.
These skull-faced citizens of Magisteria insist upon partying just as they do within the clubs in the evening. They dance and sing along with the music, encouraging Otherworlders to join them.
If anyone speaks to them or asks what is going on, the answer is the same:
Nothing. Nothing at all. This is who we are, who we’ve always been. Why do you look so strange, Otherworlders?
This is the paradise city… the city of all our dreams. Magisteria. Light and Darkness.
Bios and Umbra. This is what’s always been inside all of us, all along. Inside of you all... inside of Everyone...
Are you only just now seeing it? But this is what we’ve always been. The skin hangs over the bones, but the bones are inside, underneath…
They move and move, like puppets, but with a strange sense of freedom nonetheless. Beckoning. Whispering. Just let it out. Let out what has been inside of you, all along. It's inside of us all. The darkness that walks with the light. Bios and Umbra. Look at what we can become when not forced towards "Perfection." Inside of Magisteria, all along. And these party-goers do not slow or tire. Though their movements are haphazard, like zombies from films, still they keep moving, keep going, never growing exhausting, never ceasing...
IV. Elemental Nightmares
News comes that the source of the “hack” is Magisteria’s Elemental Control Center. This central zone is a bit like a giant brain that regulates elemental magic within the district. Now, the magic becomes chaotic. Giant tornadoes of raw elemental power sweep through the district. Alleys and buildings explode into gust-fed fires, and tides of water burst forth over the district. The ground trembles and all of the elements are out of control.
Those with magical powers are (if still in control of themselves) encouraged to work to stem these tides, to ebb the flow of the elemental disasters which are occurring throughout High Rise Village.
no subject
The gleam catches Rhea'li's eyes, but his expression doesn't change at all. What is that...?
"And rob them of the time for aid to arrive?" Rhea'li shakes his head, the wings of the bursterfly upon his back flickering once. "You need to stop." He gestures with a hand, seemingly calm. "Help me find the source of this unnatural storm."
no subject
He waves his hand carelessly as if to gesture at the storm. Subtly, he adds more ferocity to the gales. It grows more and more difficult to stand there speaking with the howling winds decimating the district.
no subject
Emet-Selch is making the repeated point that this is simply nature's course, that he has no desire to interfere. But he is interfering. Even if Emet-Selch does not care a whit for the people of Magisteria, there's a feeling gnawing at the back of Rhea'li's head, Emet-Selch would not do this.
If he could not be roused to help, then he would bugger off and leave others to their own devices. The question is rather irrelevant; they have already resolved this matter one life ago.
Is Emet-Selch more susceptible to the strange pall that has fallen over the city because his body is made of Bios?
Emet-Selch raises his hand and Rhea'li's ears pin back as he reaches for his grimoire; he is familiar enough with the other man's magical prowess to recognise the careless gesture for what it is. A magical array appears before his fingertips, lengths of magic leaping from the pattern and reaching for Emet-Selch to (Tri)bind him.
"You need to stop!" he repeats, shouting over the rising storm. "This isn't like you!"
no subject
"Not like me? You think you know me? You know nothing about me!"
His expression is contorted into a rage only seen once before: at the precipice of their final, fatal battle. But unlike then, this is no raw, wounded declaration of war. This is unadulterated hate born of jilted pride.
Emet-Selch raises his hand and the winds intensify with an ear-splitting howl. They bear down upon Rhea'li, every gust sharp and cold, tiny knives nicking at exposed skin and drawing blood.
no subject
Negotiations have failed, then.
With a hand outstretched, he draws upon the energy he drains from Emet-Selch, dismissing Garuda so he can coealesce both into a new form; it is pure fact that Emet-Selch is a more powerful mage than he, and so the wind was easily ripped from Garuda's control. But facing down a more powerful foe has never stopped him, easily shrugging off the pain of bleeding from windborn cuts.
The massive form of Titan hurtles towards Emet-Selch, the rocky primal slamming into the ground like a comet. Even if Emet-Selch is not mashed, Titan's bulk provides some buffer for Rhea'li to hide against the wind. And certainly, Rhea'li doesn't think Titan will be enough to stop the other mage, following up immediately with slabs of rocks rising from the already broken concrete in an attempt to crush Emet-Selch between them.
no subject
He staggers, barely managing to blast apart the subsequent rocks. The winds play against him here: dust and fragments obscure his vision briefly, allowing Rhea'li another opening.
"Don't think I won't tear you to pieces this time, hero!"
no subject
Expression flattening, Rhea'li presses his advantage. "You couldn't do it before."
He could never keep a fully-realised Titan for long, but the construct had already done its job so Rhea'li has no problem with dissipating its energy and reforming it into Demi-Bahamut's mighty shape.
With a roar, Demi-Bahamut blasts Emet-Selch's location with its characteristic energy beam.
no subject
"You had help then, Rhea'li. You think you can stand against my might alone?!" he laughs.
Shadows obscure his form in a way that is familiar. In short time, out strides the true form of the mage Hades, staff in hand (not Zodiark's but some sort of metal rod topped with a large crystal; it looks of Magisterian make).
"Come! I shall show you just how feeble you are!"