EVENT | ZUGZWANG | SEPTEMBER 21-28

[ironwood]

Characters: ALL!
Date: September 21-28, 2014
Location: Keeliai
Situation: Something in the city has caused the Foreigner's powers to go off the charts, affecting even those who wouldn't possess any. Things pretty much go downhill from there...
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

The state of affairs in Keeliai has been tense since the incident at the Midnight Hotel with Evandau, and the aftereffects have put a touch of pall on the city. Kedan look at each other distrustfully, wondering who among their number might be possessed by Malicant's essence and that suspicion carries to the Foreigners as well. How can they fight for us? they seem to be asking. They can't even stop fighting amongst themselves and the Emperor. Of course, the kedan's opinion of Evandau is likewise not exactly stellar any longer, as whether through inevitability or design, his cold actions of killing those who cross him has come to light. While there's no open dissent in the ranks (and likely, it seems, more due to fear of repercussion than loyalty) there are certainly looks and whispers.

The turtle hatchlings have also picked up on it, and they've become quieter than normal. Especially those who are suffering under shedding the remainders of Malicant's taint if they were injured by the poisoned weapons, they'll seem hesitant to bother their parents for minor things, or if possible will ask a parent who isn't afflicted first.

It feels like the calm before a storm.

---

LINKS
Powers Going Haywire (Sept 21-25) | Powers Nullified (Sept 26-27) | PART 2 TBA (Sept 28) | OOC Plot Post

OOC NOTE
Reactions to the Part 2 plot reveal will also be threaded on this post and the comment will be unfrozen when the other posts are made. Event questions can be directed to this comment. Have fun!

Comments

Powers Nullified | Sept 26-27

[ironwood]

The effects dissipate -- or culminate, depending on one's point of view -- just after midnight on the 26th. Instead of the churning instability of powers, whether they originally had belonged to the person or not… simply stop. Not as in going back to their typical levels but cease, completely and utterly, leaving only the bare minimums for those who require them to survive. Those who have ever been affected by Evandau's ability to block Foreigner's powers will find the effect in all ways identical, except for the fact of not being in the Emperor's presence.

Even the kedan's ability to shapeshift has been nullified, and added to the already increasing tension in the city, start to fracture into in-fighting that could easily escalate into rioting. With dwindled Foreigner numbers and utter lack of extraordinary powers (physical ones have stayed), there might not be enough influence to keep the city from going powder keg.

Once again the only exception to these strange circumstances are Asti's boons, though why they continue to function outside of these effects remains a mystery.

26th | Asti's Head | For Bakura | For Anton | (No Warnings)

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis sat on the ground with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the water. The breeze blew softly, carrying the scent of the sea and causing her loose black hair to dance. Even if someone approached her from downwind, she was so deep in thought that she probably wouldn't notice them. Though her body had healed from the fight, her mind was a completely different matter. She had come here to find some peace from the chaos, hoping that the rumors were true and that being here would soothe the darkness and prevent it from taking over again, especially since it seemed that magic was currently useless. So far, it seemed to be working. She felt far more in control and her mind was finally clear, something that had not happened since her arrival to this world.

[gistful]

One would have thought that the absence of a monstrous entity within Anton would have been a relief. Would have been peaceful. He found it wasn't. He found it was lacking. Skulduggery was certainly cheerful, and he had a right to be; but Skulduggery was afraid of himself, and Anton was afraid for others. Skulduggery was relieved to have that burden gone.

Anton just felt unbalanced.

He'd heard tales of the turtle's head. Ryder had prodded at him to see Raine, but Anton wasn't yet certain enough that he was the right person to do so. He felt too ... discombobulated, and the fact that he felt it without any side-effects only made the feeling worse. Some perspective, perhaps, would be beneficial.

Anton just didn't expect to see her there. Valdis. Wolf of the underworld. For a moment Anton just stood there, for once in his life uncertain. He wouldn't be able to defend himself if Valdis attacked, and deserving or not he didn't particularly want to die. Wanting to die solved very little. And Ryder had already left, promising to return in an hour. Anton would never be able to make it home on his own without re-opening a number of injuries. Even the short walk up the curve of the turtle's neck had left his back a mess of agony, and he held his wounded arm close by his side, his torn fingertips curled protectively against his palm.

But the stories he'd heard were true; though he was uncertain, he wasn't afraid. In fact the closer he'd come to the pinnacle of the turtle's crown, the more the emptiness in him had felt soothed. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in life since before the gist, save Ryder's influence. It was dangerous to rely upon, but right now, it was something Anton couldn't deny he needed.

Finally he spoke, quiet and reserved, but unguarded. Unflinching. If he was forced into confrontation for his sins, he'd meet them unflinchingly. "Are you well, Lady Valdis?"

[redlightgreenlight]

She turned her head at the sound of his voice, releasing her knees and shifting her weight so that she could look up at him. She felt no fear at the sight of him, perhaps a side affect of being in this particular place. The man before her was so different than the man she had fought at the Midnight Hotel. He seemed broken, and not just because he was still injured.

"Better than you it seems." Her voice was even, almost emotionless, yet she looked away from him,"I'm sorry."

It had been her teeth that had torn into his flesh, her weight that had injured his back, her power which had ripped apart his home and, on top of it all, she had tried to take his soul. If only she hadn't given in, if she hadn't become so drunk on her own darkness that it had clouded her judgement.

[gistful]

"As am I." It was a good start. A reciprocal start. Anton didn't feel as though he should leave any longer, so he moved forward instead, slowly, to join her. "The physical injuries I bear aren't any more important because they linger." He recalled, very clearly, ripping out her throat. Twice.

Very carefully Anton lowered himself into a kneeling seat, keeping his back straight and laying his bad arm across his lap. "In fact, I seem to recall that you chose not to take me when you could."

He had spent some time, once the gist was gone, thinking about what Valdis had tried, with the darkness. The furious comment about taking his soul put it into context, but it was obvious in retrospect that something had gone wrong. Possibly Anton had managed to resist the attack--but he didn't think so. Perhaps he could have, but the sensation of spiritual tumbling had felt like an averted blow more than a parried one.

September 26th

[looksfine]

She was on the streets.

Standing absolutely still. Not a twitch of the finger or even sway of her physical form. At a glance, one might have assumed her robotic form had simply shut down...except, whenever that happened, the light faded from her eyes and she collapsed. She had not collapsed, and her eyes still shone their brilliant blue. As did her construct form remain as solid as ever.

That was actually the strangest part; absolutely none of her Green Lantern abilities were currently functional. She had attempted flight, energy beans, external constructs...even contacting Korra though their private channel. Nothing.

"...I seem to be experiencing an unprecedented amount of microfailures." Perhaps even a system-wide total failure.

[highprofilerichkid]

Tony's on his way to do some grocery shopping when he sees Aya. At first, he's just going to give her a cursory friendly greeting and move on, but then he notices that she's standing rather strangely still. He glances around, wondering if maybe she's watching something, but he sees nothing out of the ordinary. He slows.

"Uh... Aya? Are you okay?"

"I seem to be experiencing an unprecedented amount of microfailures," she says. It's not even completely clear if she's responding to Tony or not, because she doesn't turn to look at him or acknowledge him in any other way. Regardless, the statement is alarming enough that Tony feels compelled to reply.

"That definitely sounds bad. Do you need help?"

[looksfine]

She was...not entirely certain.

Her body continued to function physically with great ease. Even her robotic joints were well-oiled with the mobility of any organic being in possession of joins and tendons rather than circuits and wires. She could see. She could hear. Tactile imitation was no different; her senses were able to perceive many of the basic sensations, although she still did not feel the negative effects of temperature or pain.

"If it is not too much trouble, Tony Stark, I would like to request a full external systems scan."

A second opinion might help figure out what was going on.

26-27 | definitely Skulduggery, possibly others; ask first | mostly Tu-Gai

[ruinsprofessor]

It had been the month from Niflheim, as far as Raine was concerned, starting with the Evandau mess at the Hotel and snowballing from there. The multitude of tainted Foreigners, the very real possibility of Skulduggery murdering everyone, her slow loss of control, the fight she'd had to help break up -- between Foreigners, no less -- the rising unrest in the city... the list went on, worse and worse, and all she could do seemed to only barely make a difference.

And then she woke to something missing like a chunk out of her soul. She felt muffled, penned in, unable to grasp even the faintest hint of the constant pulse of mana from Asti that said the heart of all things beat on. Even Sylvarant in its nadir had had something; all Raine felt was nothingness, and she was drowning in it.

Panic seized her for a moment, till the faint thread of Ryder's concerned mental contact snagged her attention. Years of habit, of forcing herself to think first, were the only thing that enabled her to apply some semblance of logic. She lived, Ryder was fine if worried, mana as she knew it could not be gone from the world. Then... then the conclusion that remained was that she just couldn't feel it. Or shape it.

There were people depending on her, and she had been stripped of that which enabled her best to help.

The majority of the next two days would see Raine barely leaving her room. Anyone trying to get in touch with her via the consoles would receive no answer; querying Ryder would result in the concerned report that she was uninjured but Not Happy. (He was of the opinion she shouldn't be left alone, but she was fairly determined he should stay with someone who might have the capability to defend him if necessary.) Raine occupied her time with all that was left to her: academic theory, and slowly growing fear.

You called?

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery had fought in a long war before being pulled into this one. It was a war that had dragged on for centuries. There had been a dearth of powerful healers and doctors, of course, as there almost always was in times of strife, and the few that existed always carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. It drove them mad. One man quite literally; he hadn't been able to save all two hundred dying sorcerers after a particularly fierce battle, so he'd stripped down and ran for the hills, babbling like an idiot.

All of which had nothing to do with anything, except that the man had left their squad with no healers at all, and hundreds more soldiers died without his help. Skulduggery remembered that event quite clearly. He didn't expect Raine to strip down and run for the hills (what hills were there, anyway? Asti's head?) babbling like an idiot, but neither did he expect her to be handling this last week very well.

If the dust had settled completely, Skulduggery would have stayed with Anton for the duration of whatever strange new effect this was. But there were other people he needed to contact, and Ryder very happily gave Skulduggery his first port of call, and so the evening of the 26th found him striding purposefully over to the suite Raine lived in.

Flying up to her window wasn't an option, unfortunately, so Skulduggery was forced to knock on the door. He didn't expect her to answer. He hadn't answered his own door all month.

[ruinsprofessor]

She'd really, deeply been hoping not to have to deal with anyone at the moment. Were her suitemates even there? She'd lost track, a little, both of time and of people. But there was no sound of any other response, and she knew she should probably do... something. Even if it was to simply open the door and close it again after the requisite explanation.

Deep breath. Ignore the unsettling emptiness of the world.

It was a little time before Raine opened the door to Skulduggery. She looked more through him than at him at first, finally tilted her head up and focused on his eye sockets. "Skulduggery," she said shortly, and half-considered closing the door right then. She could apologize later, and he would probably understand. But-- no. What if something more had gone wrong in the last week? There wasn't much she could do as she was, but she should at least know about it. So she stayed as she was, one hand on the door, waiting.

[gistful]

It's on the second day of ... relative peace ... that Anton finds it in himself to visit Raine. Ryder had been insisting that she was feeling down, and while Anton was willing to help cheer her up he didn't believe he was the appropriate person to do so. Not given what Raine had witnessed.

Eventually Ryder accused him of being too scared to face her, and whether that was true or not, Anton was too exhausted to argue. It wasn't a feeling he was used to outside of having used the gist; but he couldn't use the gist, now, couldn't feel it at all. It felt like someone had excised some of his emotions right out; if he did still have them, they were hidden from him. Like the gist.

Besides which, he was fairly sure he had opened some of the wounds on his back, and while he could bandage his arm well enough on his own, for his back he needed a bit of help. Raine might be as afflicted as he was--if so, she may appreciate the opportunity to help.

"We are here!" Ryder called out from downstairs, butting the door with his head, as gently as he could so as not to exacerbate Anton's rigid, pained seat. But the turtle was, nevertheless, going to keep doing so until Raine answered. In spite of his words, they hadn't called ahead.

[ruinsprofessor]

Ryder's call would have been enough, as he had the direct line to Raine's head, but the repeated headbutting was galvanization enough for her to hurry in answering the door. She pulled it open mid-headbutt, and gave Ryder a mildly reproachful look before caving and greeting him properly, with petting and as much of a hug as could be given to a turtle of his size. He'd been through nearly as much as they had, in the past month, and she was sorry for it.

"Thank you for bringing him," she said aloud, when that was done, and it wasn't clear which one of them she was addressing. She regarded Anton quietly for a few moments, noticing the way he held himself, how tired he seemed. Whatever her feelings on the last time she'd seen him -- and she wasn't fully sure she'd sorted those out, herself -- she wasn't about to turn him away, especially like this.

Raine gave Anton a faintly tired smile, and moved to offer him a hand. "Are you all right?" Clearly neither of them were, not really; the question was more to see what he'd admit to, and to remind him that she did worry, regardless.

26th | Anton at the Hotel | Warnings for chipper skeleton?

[skeletonenigma]

With the effects of the taint practically gone, and his magic completely out of reach, Skulduggery was one of the very few people genuinely enjoying himself. He would have liked access to his Elemental powers, of course, but that was a price he was willing to pay for the guarantee he wouldn't be able to use the darker aspects of his magic. He left the suite, looked up to see the sun shining, and for the first time all month, he was happy to be alive.

The same couldn't be said for many of the people he knew, and so Skulduggery went to the Hotel first. It occurred to him briefly while he was walking that this would be his first time alone with Anton Shudder since their last private conversation, and while the thought brought some measure of trepidation along with it, it wasn't enough to stop Skulduggery from pushing open the door and walking in.

He took in the damage with a glance, and didn't stop. "Anton?" He paused at the doorway between the lobby and the common room, reveling perhaps a little too much in finally being able to put mental puzzles together again. He could pick out exactly how the battle which caused the damage had gone, and that was an ability Skulduggery had sorely missed while he was incapacitated. "Anton? Are you dead?"

[gistful]

"Hello hello hello!" Ryder answered, nearly as chipper, swanning across the wet floor of the Hotel from the kitchen door as though the soapsuds were an ocean. "He is not dead, he is only working very hard, or as hard as he can when he is very injured!" The turtle cocked his head over his shoulder. "Though perhaps you can convince him to not work quite as hard as he is, because he is very injured."

"Not so bad," said Anton quietly from the same doorway, but he was leaning on the jamb and favouring one heavily bandaged arm. His other, though mostly uninjured, had bandaged fingers--after the magic had taken his claws, ragged fingertips had been left behind. The shards of wood that had impaled his back had done their damage; the slightest movements hurt terribly, and without the benefit of the gist's presence Anton was finding it difficult to muster the steadfast energy he usually possessed in order to complete his work.

"Very bad," Ryder emphasised, and came to a stop bumping up against Skulduggery. "I'm carrying the buckets," he informed the skeleton happily.

... Which was why Anton had submitted to Ryder's enthusiastic help.

[skeletonenigma]

"You're a very wise turtle," Skulduggery told Ryder, patting the large turtle cheerfully on the beak. "Good for you, carrying the buckets. Have you tried getting the sofas wet? Anton loves that."

As a point of fact, he very much didn't. But he also disliked blood on the walls, and Skulduggery saw the faded marks covered over and over again with soap and water. The floor was much too clean not to have borne pools of blood very recently, whereas the desk was smashed into wooden shards and windows everywhere in the common room were broken. Anton attacked someone while in his half-gist form; the bandages on his fingers were testament to that. But fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately - whoever Anton attacked was more than capable of holding their own. Their battle started by the front door, and crashed into this room, whereupon something stopped it before the upper levels could be touched. It wouldn't have been Anton, not without a hefty reminder of the man he wanted to be. A third party, then. Someone Anton knew well, or someone powerful enough to intervene. Dante, perhaps? Or was Dante the one attacked? It did look like Anton was stabbed in the back by a sword.

Behind Skulduggery, the door leading into the Hotel fell off of its newly crafted hinges. The detective turned to look at it, lying forlornly on the floor, and then turned back to look at Anton. "I think your Hotel needs a bit of work."

Solomon | apartment | open to all gatecrashers

[peacefullywreathed]

Never in his long life would Solomon have thought he would be grateful for being, essentially, mortal. It was a new an enlightening day when he felt the lines of power unravel and fade. They weren't gone--not completely. They were just cut off. Frankly, it was a relief. Solomon had barely slept all week, save for snatches in places furthest from death, and even then when he closed his eyes he felt as if he was about to fall into the abyss of his own soul. So yes, it was a relief.

So much a relief, in fact, that he fell into his bed not long after midnight and fell into a bliss full sleep, and had every intention of staying there for, oh, maybe a month. In-between catching up on his research, of course, now that the idiot skeleton wasn't going to be broadcasting his murder everywhere.

Reason intervened once he had a proper night's sleep, so that said research was more investigation into what was happening--but even still. Right now, sleep was sacrosanct.

ALL gatecrashers?

[skeletonenigma]

With Anton and Raine both taken care of and, if not feeling better, at least slightly more on the mend than they had been, Skulduggery returned home to the apartment building he'd been assigned.

He didn't strictly need to. He'd spent enough time next to his lantern over the entire month to have charged it for the next several years. But there was one person Skulduggery hadn't spoken to since his ribs were replaced, and with all magic on the turtle entirely nullified, he had a very good guess about where that person might be.

And he was right.

Skulduggery stood next to Wreath's bed and, with no regard whatsoever for the fact that the necromancer was fast asleep, prodded him hard in the shoulder.

all.

[peacefullywreathed]

Although in Solomon's adult life he'd grown accustomed to going without sleep, or waking up easily at need, one thing hadn't changed from when he was a teenager: once asleep, only hellfire was allowed to wake him up again. He felt the jolt and snapped awake with his head still buried in his pillow, too groggy to even wonder why the hell he was no longer asleep.

"If my pants aren't on fire, you're a dead man," he mumbled into his pillow without opening his eyes. He didn't know who it was, and was far too sleepy to actually care that half his senses were missing so that he couldn't tell in an instant who it was. "And if they are on fire, put them out so I can go back to sleep."

26th | Closed to the Avatar (mainly the first Wan--I mean one)

[backwordscompatible]

[It was almost a relief when she realized what had happened.]

[Again.]

[It wasn't the first time Zatanna's powers were lost to her. Either suppressed or just...not there. Temporarily. Always temporarily, which is what kept her from panicking. Better to have them nullified for a little while than risk blowing up the entire Turtle magically. ...again.]

[That didn't mean she was happy about it, though. Part of her wanted to go back to her room and hide there for the rest of the day. Except she was making a point lately of avoiding her room. Or, more specifically, one of her roommates; the fight with Wan wasn't in the front of her mind, but there were the occasional moments of looming silence where she could feel it tugging at the back. And she would start to feel upset all over again until she remembered that it wasn't worth it. His opinions certainly weren't going to affect how she felt. Or what she did with her life.]

[...which, at the moment, apparently involved hanging around the park area. Hoping the fresh air would cure the slight vertigo she was feeling from her body being cut off from a large portion of its internal energy source.]

[raavashing]

[Wan had been avoiding the main areas of the house himself, trying not to get in Zatanna's way when he was there. His vigil with Zuko had taken the forefront of his mind in the time since the incident between them, but in the moments he wasn't focused on the fire prince, his mind kept going right back to the metaphorical elephant-koi in the room.

His breaks from Zuko were few and far between, but with their powers having suddenly cut off that morning and the danger of the other man setting fire to his room or half the fire sector reduced to 'not at all', Wan headed to the park. He needed the time alone to clear his head.

Which of course meant the laws of the universe had to kick in and he'd run into Zatanna. He spotted her before she saw him and he had a chance to turn around and go back the other way... but he also had a chance to talk to her and maybe it was time?

He approached, but stopped a good eight feet from her. To give her space. To give himself space.]

I-

...Hello. Can we talk?

[backwordscompatible]

[It was hard to tell whether or not that eight feet of space worked to his benefit or not. Because she could see him. And that meant she could glare.]

[...admittedly, half-heartedly. But the message got across well enough: she was less than happy to see him.]

Why? Did you find out about some other relationship of mine you don't approve of?

27th | For Gene

[skeletonenigma]

Gene was the last in a line of people Skulduggery needed to see while his powers were nullified and his mind was clear. He arrived at the suite, however, with a heavier lack-of-a-heart than he'd meant to; not through any fault of Gene's, but because the discussion he'd just had with Wreath and Raine was something of an eye-opener.

The heaviness might also have had something to do with his entire skeletal frame being put back together in minutes. That exercise never stopped being painful.

Skulduggery hesitated before knocking, laughed at himself for hesitating, and then knocked.

[wrathfulkhan]

Amelia was out working on the Legacy, and Gene was, in a rare moment, in the suite and not in the lab. He went downstairs to answer the door, and his demeanor suddenly chilled.

"Oh. Hello," he said, the way GLaDOS might say 'Oh, it's you.'

I love you for that soundclip

[skeletonenigma]

"Hello," said Skulduggery in a manner that, while certainly much more cheerful than Gene would probably have ever heard from him, still somehow managed to be genuine. "I'm here for several reasons. The first, and most important, is to apologise for my behaviour earlier this month. The second, which is actually an extension of the first, is to talk to you about a theory I've told very few others, and which might give you a little perspective on both why I acted the way I did, and why I think helping you learn control is a far better idea than punishing you."

He hesitated. "So two reasons, really, but they're two very important reasons. Let me add a third for clarity's sake, however. Do you have any tea?"