January Event: Rejection Rooms

[lifeaftr_mods]

JANUARY EVENT: REJECTION ROOMS

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: Rejecting your Light comes with dire consequences
When: January 25th - 28th
Where: All over Monsun
Warnings: Violence and possible character death; please note any specific content warnings if they come up!

You're Ruled by the Things You Feel

This log is primarily for the Rejection Room portion of the event, for ease and convenience. To quote our event post:

Characters intent on rejecting their Light will find themselves irrevocably drawn to Monsun's shores. They might not even be aware of it - driven by their rage, their paranoia, their fear, or all of the above, and more. Monsun, for its part, is happy to receive them. Its landscape has become so warped over time...and those parts of Monsun consumed by shadow will start to distort, molding into structures that such characters are only too happy to hide within: Rejection Rooms.

Those who challenge the Rejection Rooms need not worry about death for themselves - damage taken within the rooms will simply translate to exhaustion outside of it, with seemingly mortal wounds leading to expulsion from the room itself, and an inability to re-enter.

The same holds true for the boss of each Room. Failure to beat them into expulsion means that the Room will continue to feed from their wildly catastrophizing mind, until there's nothing left to save at all.

So, simply top-level below with your character if they've signed up for a Rejection Room and prepare for whoever wants to gamble a confrontation. We recommend linking to the comment that details your character's Room, for the benefit of others. Remember to communicate; if your character is still trapped in their Room by the event's end, they will suffer a character death, though characters who merely try and fail to free them will not.

If your Rejection Room opt-in comment did not receive any response or additional discussion from the mod team, consider your Room and moveset approved; we want to allow for retroactive edits to your comments and plans, if those become necessary!

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Some useful links, for reference:

[ ♆ ] OOC Event Post
[ ♆ ] Rejection Room Sign-Ups, for information on what Rejection Rooms look like
[ ♆ ] Deaths Page; death penalties have been reduced for the duration of this event, but remember to let us know if your character is still stuck in their Room by the event's end!

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] January 20th: The monthly Storytelling occurs.
[ ♆ ] January 21st: Shadows of both initial variants appear.
[ ♆ ] January 23rd: Shadows of both initial variants disappear.
[ ♆ ] January 25th Lights and Rejection Rooms appear.
[ ♆ ] January 28th: Lights and Rejection Rooms dissipate. Those still trapped in their Rejection Rooms by the event's end will suffer a character death.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[cacoethes_mori]

Foster--the real Foster? the taurine one, at least--ducks, or rather just hits the fucking deck, throwing himself to the floor and disappearing behind the bed and its array of medical machinery.

Which seems like an extreme reaction, really, but there's a reason for it.

The reason reveals itself before she can reach him, rising ash-brown and dead-faced to throw itself bodily into her path. She'll recognise it, actually--the kinked and curled blond hair is shorter and greasier, the blue eyes less bright, and there's a distinct lack of bear arms or horse legs or even mushrooms, but in all fairness.... it's also lacking a pulse.

It lunges into her, trailing tubes and IV lines as it reaches for her arms with its cold human hands, the real(?) Foster taking his chance to get up from behind the bed in calmer, long-limbed labourious fashion.

[bitch4bitch]

Erika can't react quite fast enough not to just plow into the thing in her way. She's too close to pull away, to keep its dead hands from being able to grab onto her - but she can't risk letting it immobilize her.

The instant its hands are on her, she grabs its forearms in turn and yanks it sharply toward herself, driving a knee into its chest. The sharp twist of her hands might break some bones, but let's be real, she came in here intending to murder the hell out of Foster, for his own good and also her personal satisfaction. Breaking some bones on a copy of him is just a bonus.

[cacoethes_mori]

There's an audible crack that she'll be able to feel in one of the upper arms of the corpse, and whether or not she cracks any ribs is a superficial detail--it's not like the undead thing needs to breathe or anything, or is capable of feeling pain.

Or maybe it is, and just isn't into it--

"This is why he's like that, you know. This, right here."

It's not clear if the centaur is referring to the corpse she's brutalising or the other body--the new one, asleep in the hospital bed, tubes and needles back in place, just like before. But he grabs it by the jaw, tilting the head back and tearing the throat open with his claws.

[bitch4bitch]

Y'know, she'd figured it was reasonable enough to assume that breaking the thing's arm would get it to let go, but no such fucking luck! Fantastic, great, she loves having unresponsive undead clinging to her and making it harder for her to kill their master/point of origin. Awesome.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Erika snarls. She catches a glimpse of the new body, hears the sickening sound of Foster tearing its throat open, but it's kind of tough to pay much more attention with this thing clinging to her. She gives its arms another sharp twist, aiming to break the other one this time; she thinks she might be able to get out of this, if she can just... weaken its arms, then get to her knife.

...And if she can't get to her knife, but that would leave her with a single, really gross option. At least lycanthropy can't spread to undead, even if this thing was going to keep existing outside this space.

Which she sure fucking hopes it won't.

[cacoethes_mori]

Erika is going to really regret not taking any courses about necromancy, or even just spending a few hours going through information wormholes on the internet, because breaking an undead thing's bones really doesn't have any effect on its function. So she's really not doing anything useful--and she is about to have a much worse time, as the corpse already on her lunges forward, mouth opening to sink its teeth into whatever it can find.

The body in the bed isn't quite dead yet, still jerking through its final spasms of life--more animate in dying than it had been while still alive. There's probably a metaphor there.

The only living Foster is already working on the next step, through, lifting his paw to bare his palm to his teeth, ready to slice it open the second this body is dead.

[bitch4bitch]

Fuck you, Erika refuses to ever regret not taking a class, ever.

Anyway, unfortunately, yeah, it's quickly becoming clear that breaking the bones isn't going to do much good, and now the damned thing is biting her, teeth sinking into her shoulder. She snarls and tries to jerk away again, to no avail, so... okay. Fuck this.

Erika jolts the zombie's arm upward, and her teeth sink into its forearm, right by the wrist, cutting through flesh and crushing down on bone. She snarls and jerks her head to the side with another pointed twist of the corpse's arm, aiming to bite and tear its hand clean off. She can see whatever bullshit Foster is up to over there, and the last thing she wants is to have two of these things clinging to her at once.