Magisteria Mods (
magisteriamods) wrote in
magisteriaexe2024-11-17 04:12 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Event #003, Part I: The Symphony of Disruption

🌠 The Symphony of Disruption 🌠
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.
Event Questions
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Bakugou Katsuki | My Hero Academia
💣 ii. Mecha Monsters 💣
mecha monsters (cw: spider imagery)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
wrapped! ♥
chaos in the high rise city
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Wildcard - Boss Battle time.
(no subject)
lucy kushinada | cyberpunk: edgerunners
( cw: spider imagery, brainwashing, exposed booba )
[ In the end, Lucy will later reflect, it was stupid of her to leave the apartments. They'd all been warned that chaos had descended on the city, and she's no hero. She's not the type to be out on the frontlines defending the innocent like she's some chromed-up Superman -- except for the various times in this stupid city where she's gotten roped into doing exactly that -- and she'd been fine in her apartment, except for... that transmission. It had seemed run of the mill until she'd caught a glimpse of that silhouette among the smoky footage, and her blood had frozen in her veins.
Lucy hadn't thought much after that. She'd just ran. Towards what, she didn't know. Away from what, the answer was clear.
That had been her first mistake. Her second mistake had been trying to slap aside what looked like a spiderweb.
Now--
Woe betide you if you try to enter the Entertainment District.
The outer edges are as abandoned as the rest of the city, neon lights flickering over empty streets, club stereos left on automatic playlists rattling the foundations of their lonely doors. The Fractured that roam this place are shuffling like zombies, their eyes glowing purple-white, attacking anybody with a frenzy. If any careless wanderer steps deeper into the district, silver strings of spiderweb draped over the streets, from rooftop to railing, from window to signpost. Deeper, it gets thicker, glitching out where it connects to each other like electronic thread shorting itself out. Some corrupted robotics are roaming freely; others are wrapped up in the web, dangling, struggling, warped shrieks and howls echoing through the empty streets. Here, a Fractured with long whip-like hair and a mouth full of fangs is streaked with that same purple-white over its skin, a broken tin soldier with limbs stretched like rubber wears cracks in its armor the same shade of Bios, the infection running deeper the more one ventures closer to the center of the district.
If one is very brave, and finds the center, they'll find Lucy. Perched mid-air on a web the size of a small building stretched between streets. All eight of her legs placed delicately, her hands smoothing deftly over the form of white-armored spiky Fractured, cradled in her web like a broken doll. What was once legs is now an elegant spider body of chrome and steel and neon, the skin of her torso pale and bare, the lines of her cyberware dark against her skin.
At the intrusion, she looks up. Lips peel back from sharp teeth in a snarl, but she doesn't move. Instead, the air is filled with clacking and cracking and scuttling, and a tidal wave of Fractured skitter over the buildings like swarming spiders, barreling straight for the intruder. ]
[ And once that unpleasant behaviour in the Entertainment District is dealt with and some heroic soul returns Lucy to herself--
Smash cut to: dance parties.
Cut to: Lucy, eyes rimmed in panicked red, trying to convince people to leave. None of the skull-faced dancers are responding to her. This is what we've always been, they hum contentedly, this is the Paradise City. Blacklight and neon flashes over the crowd, verve thick in the air, and it's the kind of scene that Lucy would normally love, but--
Adam Smasher is here. Trapped in Chrome Hills right now, the broadcasts are saying, but Lucy doesn't trust that. Doesn't trust that he can't just punch his way out and slaughter everyone in this city. She'd tried to warn people with a message from a scrambled ID, but she doesn't know if anybody paid attention.
The next Otherworlder she comes across at the edge of the crowd-- if they know her already, it's a very different Lucy they'll be seeing. She's obviously shaken, drawn, eyes wide, her hair and jacket rumpled, every inch of her normal cool exterior stripped away, though she's desperately trying to hide it. ]
Listen to me. We have to get these people out of the clubs and back to the Terraces, where they can be-- I don't know if it's safe there, but it's the best chance anybody has. That thing in Chrome Hills won't be contained for long.
for erichthonios⸻
Sorry for the delay!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
The Saber and the Spider
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
party of the damned!
(no subject)
i'm so sorry for late reply. work has been kicking my butt until now.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Gilgamesh | Fate 👑-- Alignment Shifted to UBW-esque incarnation! With some Magisterian twists
Gilgamesh is Having a Day: That's It, That's the Whole Top Level
[ Truthfully, looking around Magisteria at the present time, the King of Heroes cannot believe that he did not attain his present conclusion sooner: namely, the forms of life within this city-state have grown far too abundant. They've become a sort of rabble, a humanoid litter. In a world in which every being claims to be exceptional, there can be nothing that truly is. And, in any case, such unique status is the right and prerogative of the King alone. At this moment, Gilgamesh has no faith whatsoever in the future of Magisteria. Just look at these mongrels dancing like something from some sleazy film. Just think about that carnage going on that has been broadcast.
Clearly, there is only one solution to mongrels who ruin their own city-state in such a manner, and that solution is Judgment.
The presence of that being, Arwyn, whose characteristic trait drives others in the city-state to "Absolute Perfection," suits Gilgamesh just fine. Having switched from his other class summoning, he may not have access to his magic, but his enhancements with technology, his charisma, and his EX-rank good fortune more than make up for this lack. In this world, the omnipotent wish-granter, the Holy Grail, is a being named Soraya.
Using the Magisterian technology Gilgamesh has learned and the upgrade of his gift to create a Miracle with Arwyn's power and his own, it is simple enough to clone data structures of that woman's magic into the translation of technical form as programming: Bios and Umbra. Simply imbue them with Gilgamesh's golden Bios and the Umbra of the Fractured, and he has coded himself up an approximate facsimile of a Grail. ]
This city... it's grown exceedingly unsightly.
[ He's been filling his vault with cyber-weapons, and now it even contains his own personal aircraft. It's not so unique as the Vimana, which is another problem with this world: again, that abundance of everything. In a world of luxury where just any mongrel can own their own aircraft... what is the value in any individual piece of technology or any life? There's too much superfluity; those "Fractured" are the proof of this concept.
But presently, Gilgamesh does not utilize flight. He will if he needs to, of course, to best use the Grail. But for the time being, he is simply strolling down the flaming streets. The flames, of course, part around him, for his Bios is blazing as golden as his soul, but if anyone gets in his path or irritates his vision, he simply shoots them down with his swords -- the smaller ones, preferring not to waste anything significant at such a moment. ]
It is time to desist with this modern world. Purge and begin anew.
It's Tenma Time!
It's Douchebag Time!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Adam Smasher
Chrome Hills Mall
This all read like a bad sci-fi flick or one of those shitty old isekai anime. Place doesn't even seem all that different from Night City. But it doesn't really matter. Switch out one paymaster for another, and they've given him lots of meat to play with. Never gotten the chance to kill real demons before. How could he refuse?
The mall is his playground for the time being. Phantom Cipher just wants him to cause a racket, make some noise, draw attention. He's good at that.
And it's only a matter of time before Otherworlders answer the challenge. The mall was locked down by Phantom Cipher after Smasher made his entrance, but Otherworlders will find that curiously, the lockdown lifts to let them in. The main power was cut, but the emergency lights are on inside Chrome Hills, bathing the place in a dim, eerie red glow. Distantly, there are shouts for help, proof that people are still alive in here.
But there's also a great deal of proof that Smasher has been busy. Many unfortunate civilians lie where the full borg left them.
He was not gentle.
But sooner, rather than later, a conflict between the Otherworlders and Phantom Cipher's contractor is inevitable. A stray shot from his Projectile Launcher announces his presence.
"Finally. Someone who might be worth my time." He growls through a heavily synthesized, mechanical voice, modulated to be as deep and menacing as possible.
"Wonder how fast you'll die, meat."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
so sorry about the delay!!
Emet-Selch | Final Fantasy XIV (will match format)
2. Elemental Nightmares
3. Wildcard
1.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
2. how many times must he teach you this lesson, old man
at least once more apparently
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
... promised...
Shirou... Senpai... he had vowed to be a hero for Sakura, to stay by her side no matter what, to forgive and to punish her even if she was bad, to come to her no matter what happened, to be the Hero of Justice for Sakura; but where -- where is Shirou? And Rin, Tohsaka-senpai, Nee-san, her sister, had she not come to
killsave Sakura? Her sister had spoken words of encouragement, telling Sakura she was not powerless anymore, but that was long ago, and then, now, everything has turned out this way once again, hasn't it? Where are they now?Again, again, again, Sakura is abandoned by those she loves most. Again, they, even Senpai now, are nowhere to be found...
Somewhere, distantly, perhaps she remembers her vow to do her best in this newfound city, and to live in a way that would make the both of them proud of her, honoring her precious memories, but that... that may as well be another life, another person. Now, once again, all Sakura Matou knows is anguish. The memories rear to the surface: all that she has endured for years. Like fresh wounds, and that, her pain and her losses... these are all she can contemplate.
She's out in the streets -- walking, swaying from side to side as though in a stupor. Again, she feels everything inside of her beginning to boil to the surface. She feels that inside of her, as if waiting to be born, reaching and clawing its way out. ]
I... see...
[ Again, it's happening again. Just as it did that time. What she saw in her dreams, what she is, the shadows and the whispers.
The ribbons, the tendrils, black and red, start to appear, to unfold, to spill out. There's a part of Sakura, deep inside, still clinging on, thinking/saying, no, this can't be, that isn't here, it isn't here, and thus there's no way this can be happening here. It must be a dream, or perhaps a nightmare -- but the darkness, the black and the red, still spreads out. ]
You shouldn't come any closer.
[ She just may not be able to control what comes next. Not now. It's the same again, but not the same. Different. That mindset, and she cannot necessarily stop, or control, what that Shadow is doing. And it is a Shadow: a great darkness which spreads like red-lit black fire, whorls of it, around Sakura, as she tries to make her way through the streets. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
wrapped??