#fs:event

[thefirebug-blog]

early mourning | the laboratory

       RUBY. ( @rubyredsongbird​ ) 

      matty’s head jerked up, eyes going wide. at first, he’d thought it merely a figment of his imagination, some side-effect of whatever these bastards had done to him. but no, that was most definitely RUBY’S voice he’d heard, shouting out his name from somewhere else in the room. the pyromaniac felt the push of something heavy in the back of his throat, as he struggled to decide whether he was relieved or fearful at knowing that she was here, trapped in the same situation. 

      trapped, but alive. perhaps he should just be grateful for that. 

               ❛ ruby? i’m here ! i’m right HERE ! ❜ 

[freakshowhq-blog]

       To honor those who were lost after they just returned, and those who were devoured in fire and explosions, it has been decided to host a week’s long event. That meant circus folk staying up a little later, doing a little more performances, but also having fun to rip the darkness out of the town where it just had begun to force its roots in. And Monday, the first day of this celebration, went by perfectly. Lots of people, lots of drinks and flowers, and peace.

       Before the three gongs even echoed through every corner of Aglæca on the eve of the cheerful Monday, HALF of the town’s mutants disappeared one by one, went missing like a handful of sand thrown into the sea. Some thought they just wanted to escape the late tidying up after the celebration, others thought they had better things to do. And some waited and waited, called and called, before the morning of Tuesday arrived, and it dyed the sky with all of the forgotten crimsons.

       The town’s people were called to the wheel’s ceremony, but the wheel was turned into something DIFFERENT. A list of those who hadn’t showed up were made and they were announced M I S S I N G. Before any other decisions were made, a panicky messenger appeared, long thin legs carrying them fast, their breathing heavy—face red, eyes wide as they told the tale of the PEOPLE who had taken by force all of their family and friends, that they allegedly had taken all of them to white LABORATORIES—that it must have been the same ones who ripped away the very first batch of mutants away from them, and then returned them b r o k e n.

       It was decided to wait no more, and people were counted and turned to search parties, every group getting a location they needed to search and hopefully succeed in finding, before it’s too late.

OOC:

       Under the read more you will find two lists. One with the people kidnapped, and who would wake up in the laboratory. All of them are in the same huge room together, only your pair is the person you’re TIED WITH, and we suggest you start by plotting and threading with them before anyone else. Your mission? To escape. Since there’s NO way for you to know if someone is coming for you (nobody found the other mutants), you know this might be IT. The escaping might be hard, since there are guards and people who know you are mutants. They will have tasers, other weapons, probably even something to dim and control your mutation.

       The second list is search parties, and some are made of two, some of three people. We also recommend at least in the beginning, your first thread, sticking to the people you were assigned with — and afterwards, can join with other groups, or if you reach the laboratory, you can try and meet those who escaped or help to save those who haven’t yet, and so on. The locations near your groups are those you were told to search first, so every corner of island would be searched.

      The WHEREABOUTS of the laboratories will be revealed later during the event, as you try and figure out yourselves with the help of some hints. Till then there’s no way for your character to know where it is.

KIDNAPPED:

i. Nyxxie. — Matty Muyskens. ii. Wynona Xhan.  — Dinah Adams. iii. Spencer Wilde. — Juniper Morrison. iv. Lily Park. — Pandora Vance. v. Beatrix Humphrey. — Ruby Faraday.

RESCUE PARTIES:

Group One. ( Centretown. )

i. Jacob Hayes. ii. Ophelia Lawrence. iii. Hanna Cassidy.

Group Two. ( Northerly. )

i. Bijou DeMure. ii. Quinn Davies. iii. Penelope Park.

Group Three. ( Southward. )

i. Connor Bell. ii. Felix Humphrey. iii. Marisol Flores.

Group Four. ( Eastside. )

i. Joaquin Fischer. ii. Skylar Reed.

Group Five. ( West Coast. )

i. Dennis Callanan. ii. Katherine Bishop.

[thementvlist-blog]

                                   FELIX HUMPHREY!

             His first reaction was full on laughter hearing his name, then he shook his head in protest. “No, no way.” It was all a JOKE to him, but from the stares of those around him he soon realized he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and with someone pushing him towards the scene he let out a groan before heading there. “PLEASE don’t slap me,” he almost flinched when the announcer moved, the sight of the LAST wheel event right before his eyes—it seemed extremely painful and not something Felix was curious enough to try. Ever, really.

            After the announcer rolled his eyes at the tall grown man fidgeting, Felix finally reached out, took a breath, and spun the cursed wheel. 

TASK: get ordained, perform a wedding ceremony at town hall; otherwise, ten hours locked inside the haunted house.

            “Oh, you HAVE to be kidding me.” He wasn’t a huge fan of weddings, save for his own, but being locked up in a house filled with spirits? No, thank you. “UGH, fine, w h a t e v e r.” He refrained from searching for his wife, from letting his eyes roam the crowd, but he knew she must have been having quite the ball seeing him in a position like that. Another couple of sighs, and Felix hopped off the ramp, without a rush dragging himself towards the hall. 

            Getting ordained was the EASY and quick, painless part. Painless. More like quickly ripping off a band aid, or plucking out a weird hair from one’s groin. The actual HARD part was only yet to begin, and as many of the same crowd began to gather, they could hear his groans and yells and ‘I’m not going to quote your fucking bible, Barbara’, and a lot of ‘NEXT!’, along with ‘What the fuck are you wearing? No, no, absolutely-FUCKING-not’, because if Felix was going to actually marry someone, it was someone who he didn’t absolutely despise. He must have looked like Gordon Ramsay of marriage, but annoyed to the very core he didn’t even stop to care. He wished he had spun out the bees, or even that slap he didn’t want at the beginning—he even considered the other option, but pulled himself together and walked out to his scene. 

            “Dear BELOVED... and blah, blah, blah—” a sigh, and he glared BACK at the groom, “No offense, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” Felix paused, deep inhale and exhale—and stopped, looking around. “Where’s the wine? —OH, thanks.” He took the golden goblet with “Christ’s blood” or whatever they called it these days, and downed it in one go. Filled it up again, downed it. “Where are the rings?” He asked the man on his side in a whisper, and with his shrug, he just about lost it. “You had to have the fucking rings, Paul! ..God, this is going terribly.” He looked around, searching for a substitute for lost jewelry, a few sparkling little nothings in the bride’s hair catching his eye. Without asking he took them out, bent them here and there a little bit, murmuring cusses under his breath before aggressively rolling his eyes at Paul. Fuck Paul. 

               He raised his eyes to the crowd, for once, and a  breath got stuck in his mouth. Felix licked his lips, took a second before continuing, shaking his head softly. “I don’t know the words,” he admitted, the previous anger melting out into thin air, disappearing without a trace. If there was any, he suppressed it and directed it towards himself rather than people before him. It took only one glance at his wife’s face—catching it unexpectedly, without searching for it—and the charcoal hot needle peeled into his heart. “But honestly, you don’t need that,” he looked down at the makeshift rings in his hands, “Or rings, or fancy clothing—flowers, or even all of this,” spoke he, as he gestured vaguely towards the people watching. “What you need is EACH OTHER, and now you have that.” At the end his voice went a little quieter, Felix could feel his throat clogging up with his own emotions, and he handed the ‘rings’ to the pair. 

                       “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

                 And soon after his task was officially DONE, before the newlyweds could even turn around to say a word to him, Felix was gone from the hall without a trace.

[deathdefyingdahlia-blog]

Early Mourning | Dinah & Wynona

“Wynona,” Dinah said, nudging her companion with her shoulder. “Wynona my dear, time to wake up. I’ve let you sleep long enough.” Dinah had spent the last half hour, by her own estimation, awake. Once her initial panic had worn off she found herself feeling protective of the girl chained with her. Protective and highly pissed off. 

She quelled her anger, though, and instead focused on soothing the girl as she emerged into consciousness. Dinah still wasn’t sure how she herself had been knocked out, drugs or a blow to the head or something even worse, and she looked closely at Wynona, trying to detect any wounds on her body. 

“We’ve been kidnapped––now now, keep your voice down, I don’t want them paying too much attention to us. I have no idea who these people are, but I don’t intent to stick around long enough to find out. Don’t worry, this ain’t the first time someone has tied me up and left me high and dry. We’ll get out of here. But first, how’s your head kiddo?” 

@wynonaxhan

[madameviper-blog1]

                                       MARISOL FLORES !

The MOMENT her name was called, Marisol felt an instinctual d r e a d sink into her chest. She’d seen other people get chosen by the Wheel, seen the often times terrible, sometimes ( but rarely ) good things they were told to do. Watching as a man she hadn’t had much, if any, contact with get called up before her, his challenge to either ordain a wedding ( how wild ), or face ten hours in the haunted house, Marisol followed him to the Wheel soon after.

When her turn arose, she anxiously approached the Wheel. She shook off her nerves for a brief second, then, with strength she didn’t know she possessed, Marisol spun the Wheel as hard as she could. She watched as it spun rapidly, taking what seemed like forever to stop, before it finally stilled:

PRIZE: Three potions to choose from. The sparkly chartreuse will turn you into a reptile for a day. The scarlet one that has smoke coming out of it will give you a LASER vision which will erupt at random times during the day, & you will not be able to control it. The silky peach colored one which smells just like that, is a truth serum which would make you speak your mind anytime anyone speaks to you—any thought you have, it comes out with no way of stopping it. The catch ? You must pick & drink one on the spot, & seconds after it will start working.

A PRIZE didn’t seem at all bad, but when the announcer began to list off the types of potions — & the catch ! because, by God, there was always a catch — Marisol panicked at being put on the spot. At the risk of being predictable, but harming no one but herself & keeping her thoughts inside her head, she grabbed at the reptile potion, uncorking it & downing it in one go.

As the last drop hit her lips, a sudden & MIRACULOUS transformation befell her; if the few screams & gasps that came from the front row were anything to go by, as well as her change in eye level, it was safe to assume Marisol had transformed into a snake. She quickly s l i t h e r e d off the stage & out of sight, eager to get somewhere where no one would step on her for the next day.

[thcdestroyer-blog]

                                         BEATRIX ‘WICKED BITCH’ HUMPHREY

Task: A meeting with the ringleader. 

      —♛ Water cascading down over the curvature of a bowed head following bare shoulders and an endless journey of naked amber flesh. The bathroom was completely filled with vapor as the dazed female stood underneath the spray of the shower, brown gaze fixated on a specific spot in the marble. There was nothing special about this spot, in fact, the more distance you gained from the wall the spot simply disappeared, but the brunette was staring at this minuscule anomaly as if it were the gates of HELL itself. Though this mindless concentration could have been a side-effect of sorts.

      —♛ The details are quite UNCLEAR, there was an invitation then a meeting, some questions perhaps? But her brain was feeling like lead, sluggish around the bumpy corners, images flickering like an old TV with a horrible connection. The spoken words only came in spurs and the ones that lasted more than a minute were COVERED in so much white noise it was troubling to just sift through them. Slowly yet surely Beatrix become more aware of herself, of the scalding hot water that punctured her skin, of the familiar white base underneath the soles of her feet, and of the sudden blooming PAIN that stabbed at her chest. 

      —♛ Reaching out to turn the shower off before rubbing her right temple in frustration, the female concluded that this was not an alcoholic blackout but an intentional wipe-out. She got out of the shower with stumbling steps but managed to snag the towel of its hanger to wrap it around her body. FLINCH. The soft cotton abraded a very tender spot above her left hip, eyebrows meeting at the center she went to look at the source. The wound was small and didn’t pass the second degree, barely reached the size of a quarter the skin looked red and inflamed. But looking at the burn mark managed to get some of her senses to go back into the past.

      —♛ There was the smell of something PUNGENT, acidic even, it corroded her nostrils until her head had turned away. After that came a SMOKY aroma. and both of them combined were a pair Beatrix was more than just a simple acquaintance with. The lovers had met in a moment of desperation and as a last resort to save her from the imprisoned castle that had feigned to be her home. Without a regretful thought to plague her mind, she had set fire to the palace and walked away from everything that had once held her back. But the question that remained on the tip of her tongue was: what did she BURN now? 

      —♛ There was a barrier that wouldn’t budge as soon as the female tried to invoke something else, plus the TORRENT at her center seemed to be increasing making her breaths more difficult to get past her lungs. Feet padding silently across the tiles to move onto the wood floor, the brunette walked past the sleeping form on the bed and onto the living room where a comfortable couch sat almost waiting for her. Disturbing her husband with what was going on was NOT an option, for the male had enough issues to deal with. 

      —♛ Body still covered in solely the towel it laid itself gently across the soft cushions, feet curling up towards her chest Beatrix closed her eyes as agonized features colored her visage. It felt as though NEEDLES were spearing through her chest, tiny dots of pain that molded together into a fiery flame of torment. Staying in fetal position, the female only hoped for the anguish to pass so she could sleep away this horrible NIGHTMARE. 

[thecopycvt-blog]

      She was only ONE of those who were not so lucky to be at the town’s square as it all went to hell and beyond—and one of those who’s flesh was touched by the hungry fire that blazed everything. Cuts in her skin, half of her body BURNED enough for it to stay, and no shock helped her push away the pain. Second degree at the least, she could already tell as Spencer tried to muster up enough strength to get up from the ground, and to push debris away from herself, wood and other things pressing her legs. 

      Spencer could swear she had blacked out for a second, wasn’t sure how much time she had spent on the cold ground with a high pitched noise between her ears and heart pumping so hard she could feel it through her skin, pulse hitting her eardrums. Finally the shifter got up, one hand against a still-standing wall for support: shorts, tank top burned, right half of her body bright red and skin peeling in some parts, BLISTERS already forming—ugly and deviously painful. She began walking, slowly, searching for something—anything. With so many screams around her she wasn’t even sure which direction to turn, her brain still in a state of panic, yet to grasp what just happened. One minute she was crossing the square to get to her work, legs carrying her fast, and another she heard a loud sound, felt wind and heat and then there was nothing. 

      Suddenly, as she walked around the corner, a figure caught her eye—a semi familiar face to the dizzy brain, name forgotten. “Hey! Hey you! Are you alright? Do you need help?”

[rubyredsongbird-blog]

                                                          RUBY FARADAY

task: a meeting with the ringleader

         two days. it’d been two days since she’s gone to see HIM. the mysterious ringleader. the invite alone was odd enough in itself, not that she remembered much past receiving it. what remained in her mind of the incident was shrouded —— as if something’s had been tampered with. the funny thing about memory is it can prove fickle, further when it’s been altered, further when details have been e r a s e d.

                   it wouldn’t be nearly as troubling as it were, had she not woken up for the past two nights someplace strange. sprawled upon the floor in a grogged state of black out with no memory of how she wound up there. it was a loss of control, a mystery that she didn’t need in her life. then again, who needed any of the things that were happening in aglæca? the city that was supposed to be a safe haven for people like her. not only was it troubling, but it wasn’t safe either. ruby had seen the shadows that stalked in the night with her very own eyes. whether they were playing tricks on her or not, whether it was a symptom of paranoia that night with spencer, to ruby, they seemed REAL as ever. how long would it be before this sleep walking pit her in the w r o n g place at the w r o n g time?

         the SHADOWS: what they were, or what they were there for —— that was another ordeal entirely. what did you see? what were they doing? night had fallen as the redhead paced the length of her bedroom, thumb nail nibbled upon as concern furrowed her brow. she remembered him asking THAT, asking what she’d seen. it appeared to her in a flash, but what he’d said in return isn’t there. just as the other recollection is incomplete. what was he DOING with them? don’t lie to me, ruby. how the tears had pooled then, for those questions she knew not the answer to. the mystery she’d spent her time with before finding herself in aglæca.

                   was her life just one big MYSTERY. countless things she’d never have the answers to. afraid to sleep for where she’d end up the next morning, though exhaustion was catching. confined to her room for the evening, thumbing over the marking that’d appeared in her palm, between her thumb and index after the meeting, merely to watch the hours pass by . . . 1 o’clock, 2 o’clock, 3 o’clock . . . doze. eyes drew heavy, maybe she’d waited it out long enough —— one could h o p e. she’d need to find a better strategy for the next night, a better way to keep up, but the weariness consumed her in no time at all, as if acting under a spell. those heavy eyes fluttered shut as her breathing slowed, sinking into the sheets as but a moment later those eyes would be wide, ALERT as the time turned to precisely 3:20AM.

         but something wasn’t quite right about her gaze. vacant, void of the mind that lay behind. a voice that filled the mind, luring the siren from the comfort of her bed. following a dim green light that seemed only to exist in her mind

                   ‘. . . find it.’ the voice whispered, as that’d become ruby’s only objective. to find it. whatever it was. barefoot and drawn out into the night, no concern for the cold in her TRANCE where the thin lining of her nighty might have otherwise caused a shiver, to rummage through whoever’s belongings the light brought her to that night. to the room she’d wake up in without answers next.