June Event: Chaos, Chaos!

[lifeaftr_mods]

JUNE EVENT: CHAOS, CHAOS!

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: It's just a little chaos...
When: June 17th - June 22nd
Where: Primarily Io, though also across Ensō and the islets if applicable
Warnings: Violence, possible body horror, potential anxiety and dysmorphia associated with body-swapping

Who Keeps Spinning the World Around?

The morning of June 17th, you'll probably notice things are amiss rather quickly. Your hands aren't your hands, or you're no longer in a squishy human flesh shape, or worse. Maybe your Lawful Good persona has plummeted into an outright Chaotic Evil one. Or maybe you wake up with a brand new power in your hands! Whatever the case is, no explanation is going to be immediately forthcoming, from Eleu or the Storyteller or anyone else. You'll have to figure out this mess on your own. Adjust to your new circumstances, master your new powers, and do what you can to make it through the next few days...because they're going to be some very interesting ones, for certain.

Catch Me If You Can!

Come June 20th, whether you're back to normal selves or not, Eleu has a job for you. A request, even. They're going to need your help to take care of this little problem and put a stop to all this absolute madness.

Those interested in helping can get in touch with any of the honeybees buzzing anxiously about Io, and they will redirect you to the Honeycomb, which has now been provided with several barrels of Honeycomb Sledgehammers for your use. You don't have to take one if you don't need it, but they make a very powerful weapon. Additionally, Eleu will take care to assure that, in exchange for your help, you may keep the Sledgehammer, if you so choose. Those interested in assisting may access our boss fight at its top-level below. This is a single thread with no order, but anyone may participate, regardless of their current state of being. Don't worry about how you contribute, or tag speed. Anyone who's concerned about being left out is welcome to reach out to us to handwave or backtag their involvement, if necessary!

The Clown Box is going to put up a fight, though. And it's not going to be pretty.

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] June 17th: Chaos begins!
[ ♆ ] June 21st: On the eve of the final battle, Storytelling commences.
[ ♆ ] June 22nd: Characters confront the Clown Box, and all parties return to normal.
[ ♆ ] June 25th: All parties become privy to the final outcome involving the Clown Box.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

tim wright | ota | i'll match your formatting

[postictal]

[So Tim woke up with his hands on fire.]

[Blue fire, namely, which was his first sign that things aren't normal. That wasn't a happy way to wake up, and his first order of business had been to get as far away from the house, which is made of very flammable wood, as possible. His next order of business was to ensure he wasn't anywhere near Denny, which is also flammable.]

[So right now, Tim is just outside the Temple on Io, focusing very hard on keeping the bluish fire from ripping out of him. For a minute, he was able to breathe it down into little more than a guttering at his fingertips. If he concentrates, he can almost make it die down completely.]

[Just don't startle him, or it'll flare back to life again.]

[And then there's no telling what it'll end up burning.]

[catpiper]

[Looks like she's not the only one with Issues. Those blueish flames around his palms and fingers are more reminiscent of Lup than anything. Weird.

You know what else is weird? Probably the brightly colored floating rocks beside her that collect as she walks. With every step, she seems to pull another into her weird gravitational field and that's perfectly fine with her. It's what she wants. This makes treasure collecting way, way easier. She's up to three now?? It's great.]

Are you a wizard now?

[postictal]

Fuck -

[It's not clear if it's the fact that it's an unexpected approach or the fact that it's Ren, who he definitely doesn't want to accidentally end up burning, but either way, Tim swings around, panicked, and one of the fruit trees bursts into blue flame.]

Don't - don't come any closer!

[catpiper]

[The panic in his voice makes her react more than the flame stoked tree, as she takes a couple steps back, all her little treasures falling to the ground.]

Are you okay? Is it hurting you?

[postictal]

No.

[That's a lie; his teeth grit, hard, as the flames bite into his skin. It's not burning him alive, exactly, but it's not very comfortable. And if it worsens, he thinks there's a good chance that he might actually immolate.]

I just - can't turn it off.

[catpiper]

We can put water on it.

[She motions over towards the nearby ocean, waving a hand towards the lapping waves like it's going to make them come closer. Which, given her new power, they just might.]

That's how you put other fires out.

[postictal]

Yeah, we're kind of...surrounded by water. I've tried.

[But he's also not wild about swimming. He's almost drowned too many times to be totally comfortable with the idea of submerging himself underneath the waves - and even then, that's no guarantee that it'll work. Fuck.]

It doesn't turn it off. Not for good. It just comes back.

Is this kinda thing happening to you?

[catpiper]

Yes, I can't hear hearts anymore-I can only make treasures float now.

[And a little rock moves up, up, up by her head. Which ends any and all ideas she had. Put out fire is about the only thing she can think to do and she eyes the flames, hoping he's telling the truth about it not hurting. It doesn't look fun at all.]

Is there medicine to put out fire?

[Which seems like The Next Best Option. Maybe some kind of pill to solve this woe.]

[postictal]

I don't think so. I don't know what kind of fire this even is.

[It's definitely not normal fire - coloration issues aside, he's pretty sure it would have devoured him whole by now.]

You can make stuff float?

[taxusbacatta]

An enormous shadow fell over Tim.

"Smokefur, are you hurt, or is this more nonsense?"

A black dragon with a stunted muzzle and scars peppering her face and neck loomed over Tim. Her wings were ragged and a teeeeny tiny backpack was worn around one wrist as though it were one of those cute coin purses from the 90s.

Her voice was deep and rolling but still carried the familiar rasp.

[postictal]

Oh fucking christ.

It's a testament to the height of his anxiety over this newly developed power that Tim reacts the way he does. He's desensitized to this shit by now, usually, and would usually bat an eye beyond the initial flat reaction of oh, well this is happening now.

But he's setting things on fire with his mind without meaning to, and this is just enough to tip him over the edge.

"Shit!" says Tim, and a strip of grass by his feet ignites into a long line of blue flames.

[taxusbacatta]

The dragon flares her wings out and she takes a few steps back. She certainly named him well. For a long moment, Yellowfang isn't sure what to do. Fire is one of her fears--and no wonder, but this fire is blue. Its glow doesn't set off the same vivid flashbacks as the fireworks had.

She extends a wing and gives it a hearty flap, having seen winds extinguish flames back on the main island before.

"Nonsense then."

[postictal]

"Jesus," he mutters, now concentrating at his hands to try and get the conflagration to die down. It's starting to prove more of a drain on him the more it erupts, and at this point the smell of burning skin is starting to settle grimly into his nostrils.

Maybe he'll self-immolate before this, whatever it is, goes away for good. Wouldn't that be nice.

With that distraction gone, at least, he can look up at the dragon and squint at her, placing both the origin of her voice and the fact that there's only one person on this island that calls him that...name.

"...Yellowfang?"

[taxusbacatta]

Yellowfang dips her head in a nod.

"I have a feeling it's going to be a very long day."

She isn't used to having six limbs so her wings drag the ground by her front talons and her tail is carried uncharacteristically high behind her--at least for a dragon.

"Come to the shore with me. Maybe that will fix this." She turned and started to slink away from the temple and down to the water's edge some ways away.

[postictal]

Water. Minimizing things that can actually be set on fire. It's a good idea, but he's not sure how likely it is to work. This fire seems just as happy to chew at his flesh when it doesn't have anywhere else to go.

Still, he stumbles after her, jogging to keep up. Her strides are much larger than his, after all.

"You woke up like this?"

[taxusbacatta]

"Yes," she says. "You can imagine my surprise."

The size and horrible furlessness were one thing and the extra limbs were puzzling on their own, but Yellowfang's biggest adjustment was the lack of her power, her gift, her curse, whatever she felt like calling it on a given day.

Considering Tim's new flammability, she's grateful. She has no desire to know what it feels like to be burned alive. She still hasn't discovered her own ability as a NightWing--the gift of fire. Not yet.

"Are you hurt, Smokefur? I have herbs in my bundle now."

She paused to gesture to the little bag on her wrist.

[postictal]

"Not really," he says, which is technically true. The flames have taken to eating into his skin and burning him when he doesn't pay close enough attention, but so far - so far - it hasn't reached truly unbearable levels. He's worked with fire before, after all. He's used to getting nipped here and there.

He almost runs his hands through his hair, and stops himself. That's how you set your hair on fire.

"I'd...probably end up setting them on fire anyway. Better not."

[deathfindsaway]

[Well, this is absolutely terrible.

Kravitz still looks like himself, thankfully, but he's missing his entire arsenal of abilities. After something that could be called a conversation with Ren, he's now heading over to Io to do what he always does when something's gone wrong and he isn't trapped- go grill the local god about what's happening this time. It's never worked, and yet, here he goes continuing to try. But he sees Tim first on his approach, the blue fire at his fingers, and-- well, he can't not say something. The man is technically on fire. Technically. Who knows what the fuck is happening today.

Kravitz clears his throat as he approaches, not walking straight up to him but still probably too close.]

Sorry to interrupt, but-- you seem to be slightly on fire.

[Good job, king dumbass.]

[postictal]

You think?

[He snaps it out too sharply. The conflagration abruptly rockets up to new heights, fwooshing up his shoulders and the back of his neck. The heat starts to bite all the more severely at his skin in the process. He's learned from experience that if he doesn't rein it in, it'll burn about as well as any other fire.]

[Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.]

[It takes a conscious effort to make the flames recede, and it's not working all that well, either.]

I can't get it to stop.

[deathfindsaway]

[His first instinct is to reach out, to try and create some sort of barrier between him and the fire, but he has nothing to assist with this. Kravitz clenches his teeth, resolving to just standing there a bit tense until Tim seems to stop it from turning into an inferno.]

That's-- alright, so you're too aware, right.

[Boy, is he feeling useless and boy does he hate it! But he does have expertise in controlling innate abilities like this. If he doesn't have magic, maybe he has words.]

Do they feel like they're coming from you? Or being summoned from somewhere? It'll make a difference in how it responds.

[postictal]

They're from me. They're...responding to me.

[The constant slow-burn of his anxiety. The abyss-like nature of his own dread. Constant terror, constant paranoia, constant uncertainty, constant doubt - of course it'll pick all of that from the mire in his head and feed on it.]

Don't...get too close. Sets stuff on fire at random. I don't wanna...

[He doesn't wanna set you on fire, either.]

[deathfindsaway]

Don't worry, I'm at a safe distance.

[He probably isn't, who knows how far that fire can surge. But Kravitz isn't going to just leave him here, especially not when he's feeling at unease with this too for a reason he can't perfectly pinpoint.]

Listen, I've had abilities innate to me for many, many years. Think of them as an extension of yourself. Like you can stretch your limbs to reach outside of yourself. Concept the entire thing as your body, your form. Can you try that for me?

[postictal]

Don't talk to me like I'm a kid.

[He snarls it out before he can fully suppress it - irritation and toxic instinct spiking sharply to the surface. He doesn't realize why until there's the echo splitting several fractals through his brain: Can you do that for me, Tim? Can you hold out your arm and relax it for me, Tim? Can you lie down right here for me, Tim?]

[The flames roar all the higher in response.]

[Immediately, Tim sucks a breath in realization.]

Shit.

[deathfindsaway]

[He grimaces as the flames shoot higher, like he can feel the tension in the air, breathing out through his nose.]

I'm-- I'm sorry. I was trying to help you calm down.

[Okay, okay, he just needs to not sound patronizing. He can do that. This shouldn't be as hard as he's making it out to be.]

I'm attempting to instruct you. The sooner you recognize them as an expansion of your own body, the sooner they should stop harming you directly. But I know people are not... built, for this sort of thing. It is hard.

[Kravitz hesitates, one more second.]

Is this... helping? Tell me what you need if it's not

[postictal]

They're not an expansion of my - they're not mine.

[Stop being a dick, Tim. Calm down. Calm down, and stop snapping, because he's trying to help, and he's trying to be patient, and he can tell - why's he even trying? What has Tim ever done to warrant help?]

[Stop.]

I don't know where these even came from but I'm not supposed to have them. [He hisses between his teeth immediately after, grimacing hard. The skin at his wrists has turned rash-red and flaking.]

[He's not supposed to be on fire for this long, either.]