The Initiate Fraysong ♑ (Young GHB) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carnagecarnival) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-01-19 10:45 pm
carnagecarnival) wrote in thearena2014-01-19 10:45 pm
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who| Everyone and anyone! May be with or without the Initiate
What| IT'S VOODOO TIME. COME GET YOUR FREE DOSINGS OF FEAR & NIGHTMARES!!!
Where| Specifically the culture exhibits, but really anywhere
When| Starting from early-mid week 1 and carrying on with increasing severity from there (in ten minute bursts)
WARNINGS| to be announced!! / self harm?
The masks pique his interest. Like the paints, but made to something even more exterior. But somehow they were less and more all the same. Something that would work well for war. With no one around, at least that he can see, he pries one off the wall. It comes down easy, like it was meant for him to have. He turns it over idly for a moment or two, examining the designs on the front, how it was crafted, then lifts it up to put it on and peer through it, a grin on his face.
The holy fear rushes in. It's bursts like a bomb going off in him and it immediately rushes out, spreading all around him across the arena. His eyes flash like bright strobes between pink and purple. He can feel it. He laughs out loud in surprise. He can motherfucking feel it. He can feel everyone, where they are, he can feel every layer of fear, the textures of it all, the mother. Fucking. LIFE. He can almost feel the holy two again in his mind, just so very close. He laughs again, louder this time, and brings the voodoo to wrap and curl around him like an affectionate but terrible beast and he gives a joyous purr with it. Then, he lets it free.
He doesn't even give pause the whole ten minutes. Until the mask latches in. Ten paltry ass minutes. And then suddenly it's gone. It evicts more of a cry than the hooks do, digging into his skin. He starts and snarls, immediately reaching up to tear the mask off his face and throw it from him. Indigo pours out from the wounds over his paint. He breathes heavily, staring at it. Then turns his head to another. These masks would have his face ruined by the end of this if his suspicions are correct.
But he knows, as he reaches out to the next mask with his scarred up palms, sometimes wounds were more than worth it.
What| IT'S VOODOO TIME. COME GET YOUR FREE DOSINGS OF FEAR & NIGHTMARES!!!
Where| Specifically the culture exhibits, but really anywhere
When| Starting from early-mid week 1 and carrying on with increasing severity from there (in ten minute bursts)
WARNINGS| to be announced!! / self harm?
The masks pique his interest. Like the paints, but made to something even more exterior. But somehow they were less and more all the same. Something that would work well for war. With no one around, at least that he can see, he pries one off the wall. It comes down easy, like it was meant for him to have. He turns it over idly for a moment or two, examining the designs on the front, how it was crafted, then lifts it up to put it on and peer through it, a grin on his face.
The holy fear rushes in. It's bursts like a bomb going off in him and it immediately rushes out, spreading all around him across the arena. His eyes flash like bright strobes between pink and purple. He can feel it. He laughs out loud in surprise. He can motherfucking feel it. He can feel everyone, where they are, he can feel every layer of fear, the textures of it all, the mother. Fucking. LIFE. He can almost feel the holy two again in his mind, just so very close. He laughs again, louder this time, and brings the voodoo to wrap and curl around him like an affectionate but terrible beast and he gives a joyous purr with it. Then, he lets it free.
He doesn't even give pause the whole ten minutes. Until the mask latches in. Ten paltry ass minutes. And then suddenly it's gone. It evicts more of a cry than the hooks do, digging into his skin. He starts and snarls, immediately reaching up to tear the mask off his face and throw it from him. Indigo pours out from the wounds over his paint. He breathes heavily, staring at it. Then turns his head to another. These masks would have his face ruined by the end of this if his suspicions are correct.
But he knows, as he reaches out to the next mask with his scarred up palms, sometimes wounds were more than worth it.
[OOC: Below is your chance to thread out one of three options! For the first, Option 1, think of it like the nightmare part of Enjolras Crowning. Whether you got in that or not, this is your chance to have some fun! What paranoias or fears might your characters feel or hallucinate if they are awake? What nightmares might they navigate in their dreams? Perhaps they get a little trigger happy? It's all tailored to what your character fears most and available for you to thread out amongst yourselves+with other characters! The major bursts of nightmares and/or fear last for ten minutes (as long as he has the mask on) and so long as they are not too close in Initiate's range (or are particularly susceptible to psychic attack) these things shouldn't be too severe, but the effects can often still linger on... (and obviously, everyone can opt out, just assuming the Initiate is not in range at the time of these attacks.)
Option 2 is similar to the above, but in this case, the Initiate would be attacking your character specifically and this tends to make the power lay on more intensely. This is the option for folks who want their character driven to some intense nightmare jitters, the most vivid of hallucination to, at it's worst, a drive to madness. Or perhaps you character is going to be Initiate's mind-control pawn for the next ten minutes (PM me for more details) for something or other. Maybe both! Of course, your character should be someone he is not close with in this case unless discussed prior.
Option 3 as stated in the player post, of those he considers trustworthy (on the scale of not back-stabbing and selling him out, AND not being vocal about capitol distaste while definitely having it) and able, he will seek them out to try and share information with them through use of his power. It speaks directly through and using fear so it will definitely leave your character feeling distinct discomfort (fear, nausea, dizziness, etc.) regardless of whether they think themselves fearless or not. But it will be a way only they can hear the message, capitol will know nothing of it. If your character is not particularly close with the Initiate, he will begin on something like option 2 or 1 until he picks out the right fear for capitol, and determines they are worthy of the info-- but only with an inserted fear of speaking the information out loud (for safety measures) and possibly even an erasure of the memory of where it came from (PM me on this). If Initiate does not like said character, i'm afraid they're out of luck.
Please specify when you tag in which of these options you wish to chose!!! If the first option is chosen, the Initiate himself will not be tagged into the thread. For more details/a place to message me, go here. HAVE FUN!!! AND SWEET DREAMS!!!]
Option 2 is similar to the above, but in this case, the Initiate would be attacking your character specifically and this tends to make the power lay on more intensely. This is the option for folks who want their character driven to some intense nightmare jitters, the most vivid of hallucination to, at it's worst, a drive to madness. Or perhaps you character is going to be Initiate's mind-control pawn for the next ten minutes (PM me for more details) for something or other. Maybe both! Of course, your character should be someone he is not close with in this case unless discussed prior.
Option 3 as stated in the player post, of those he considers trustworthy (on the scale of not back-stabbing and selling him out, AND not being vocal about capitol distaste while definitely having it) and able, he will seek them out to try and share information with them through use of his power. It speaks directly through and using fear so it will definitely leave your character feeling distinct discomfort (fear, nausea, dizziness, etc.) regardless of whether they think themselves fearless or not. But it will be a way only they can hear the message, capitol will know nothing of it. If your character is not particularly close with the Initiate, he will begin on something like option 2 or 1 until he picks out the right fear for capitol, and determines they are worthy of the info-- but only with an inserted fear of speaking the information out loud (for safety measures) and possibly even an erasure of the memory of where it came from (PM me on this). If Initiate does not like said character, i'm afraid they're out of luck.
Please specify when you tag in which of these options you wish to chose!!! If the first option is chosen, the Initiate himself will not be tagged into the thread. For more details/a place to message me, go here. HAVE FUN!!! AND SWEET DREAMS!!!]
no subject
With horrific fascination marking her face the scrawny girl beheld his strangely colored blood and only as he began to rip off the mask did she realize what was happening.
The thought alone made every muscle between her neck and thighs clench. Even though she was too far away she could imagine the sound of flesh tearing.
Tentatively she approached the sink and held out her hand for him, quietly questioning if she was actually so quick to forgive that trip to nightmare town.
"A message? About what?" Maybe a warning? Was something wrong with Pruna?
no subject
He recites in an almost sing-song tune;
"AND LO', THE DEAF TROLL SAID, I HEAR THAT WHICH YOU SPEAK,
I see you standing lined in row; a crook, a liar, a thief.
IN MYSTERY THEY ASKED, NOW HOW COULD THEE HAVE HEARD?
And the deaf troll 'e didst sayeth, your lips speak ev'ry word
AND IN TIME IT TOOK FOR YE' THREE TO THINK, AND SO THEN FURTHER ASK
Ye has missed the chance to cull me, and I have so slipped past."
The blood flow won't stop with just water, obviously, but he figures that should do well enough. She can wrap her wound if she wishes.
He glances at her expression then and chuckles. "THAT AIN'T WHAT HE MEANT TO SHARE, ON NOTE. But I'd stay awares of listening enemies, for what powers lay among our others are unknown. I WANT THIS PUT TO HER PERSONAL. And so for that, you need to get all to finding a fucking calm firstlike." Or else this won't work at all, he doesn't say.
no subject
Her eyes grew wide as she listened to his seemingly incoherent ranting and rambling. Had he finally gone crazy? Was this just part of his usual personality and she didn't know? Maybe it would have been better for Pruna to have this message.
"I can be calm." She countered faintly, grasping onto the end of his sentences. "Ashley...the Nameless Sister, she's taught me some calming tricks. But being calm isn't gonna help me if I don't have a clue what your message means."
Maybe it was one of those messages that made more sense later?
no subject
He turns the tap off and straightens. The mask wasn't far. Just outside, really.
"Don't let it twist the pan, Sand Sister. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY WHEN ALL IT IS UNVEILED. Come with he, now."
He heads on over to the door and slips through. He will expect she follows without looking to see if she actually does. He finds the mask soon enough and pulls it from the display. He turns to her with a smile and finger lifted to his lips.
"THE WHAT MUST BE PASSED SHALL BE SO. Use tricks what all she taught you and bring about motherfucking focus. YOU WILL NEED IT."
The mask goes on. Without hesitation or even care for the wounds that still bleed. The fear bursts out then quickly retracts, pulled back into him. He watches her and waits for the sign to begin.
"Are you ready?" He asks, the voodoo licking out with his words.
no subject
But that was but a fleeting conversation. Following this man was almost impossible to resist. She felt her legs guiding her outside pausing only for a moment to gather the things she'd thrown at him a moment before.
After all she was curious, but not THAT stupid.
Bag of supplies in hand she watched in grim fascination as he brought the mask to his face and his powers burst free. Her eyes were dinner plates as she realized the significance of the mask now.
"Ready for what?" She heard her voice answering even as she braced her legs to either run or take some kind of blow.
no subject
There's no true voice that speaks it, nothing but an echo in her head, all made of her own fears twisted up, all strung out like a motherfucking instrument. It sounds like him but it sounds like his Messiahs. It sounds like demons. Those demons dig down into the core of her and tug and dance. If she's not ready, they will carry her off and eat her alive.
'HAD BUT ONE WARNING ALL TO OFFER YOU. BUT ONE MOTHERFUCKING WARNING. DO NOT SCREAM. DO NOT RUN. OR I WILL STOP YOU. THERE IS A SERMON YOU MUST STAY FOR, SISTER OF SAND. THERE IS A MOTHERFUCKING DOCTRINE WHAT ALL YOU MUST MAKE AT TO FOLLOW AND YOU CANNOT DO THAT IF YOU DO NOT HEED THESE WORDS. YOU MOTHERFUCKING KEN? I AM GOING TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING.'
His eyes flash; purple, pink, purple, pink. They glow like a monster's. His words, for all the fear, put strong emphasis into their suggestion. The suggestion sounds more like a law absolute.
'I GOT MESSAGE TO PUT IN YOUR CAN. A PRIVATE WORD TO STIR IN YOUR SCREWED ON NUG WHAT MIGHT SPIN IT OFF. YOU GOT YOURSELF ALL THE FUCK AWARE TO THE DISTRICTS TWELVE SISTER? YOU GOT YOURSELF ALL SCHOOLFED UP ON WHAT ALL BECAME OF THE THIRTEENTH? NOD. YES OR MOTHERFUCKING NO.'
no subject
Black slime was crawling it's way up her legs now. Pressure crushing her skin and bone to paste. Her body shook on the verge of seizure as her wide horrified eyes remained on the troll that had dragged her here.
As the goo that had made up her so called. "Angel" made it's way clawing up her hip his words found purchase in the spinning screaming panic of her brain. She nodded gently and had to clasp both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming as teeth and eyes and slime and black sand made of fear consumed her lower body.
no subject
'WHAT ALL YOU'VE LEARNT IS LIES. YOU'VE BEEN SCOOLFED THE WICKED HERESIES YOU UP AND HAVE. THE THIRTEENTH DISTRICT PERSISTS. HELD IN IT'S BASINGS IS THE REBELLION AGAINST THE CAPITOL POWER. THEY ARE HELD AT STALEMATE NOW, THE CAPITOL AND IT'S REBELS. NOW, BE THE FUCK AWARE, TO WHAT ALL I TELL YOU NOW. GET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING UNDERSTAND ON TO WHO TO THESE FUCKERS ARE. YOU KNOW THE CAPITOL FOR WHAT ALL IT IS. FOR WHAT ALL THE FUCK IT IS IT MAKES NO QUALMS IN MAKING CLEAR IT'S POWER AND WHAT ALL IT THINKS OF ME AND YOU. BUT DO NOT BE FOOLED. DO NOT THE MILENKO STEER YOU OFF. THE REBELLION IS NO CLEAN, PURE THING. THE REBELLION WILL RISK AND SELL ALL WHO IT MUST FOR ITS CAUSE, IT WILL ACKNOWLEDGE NO INDIVIDUAL AS WORTH THE MOTHERFUCKING SAVING, YOU FUCKING FEEL ME?'
He brings up images; flashes of Ariadne, writhing, dying. The pain felt from the poison which he remembers well even now. He brings up how she was disregarded as a lone fighter, ignored by her own people.
He brings up the aliens next. The queen, the eggs, the things birth from them. He know these are fresher in Sandy's mind than they likely are in his own.
'THOSE CREATURES WERE BROUGHT TO US COURTESY OF THE REBELLION. YOUR DEATH WOULD HAVE BEEN NOTHING TO THEM AND THEIR CAUSE. YOU MUST KNOW THIS, FOR FOR ALL THEY SHALL BE OUR CLOSEST THING TO ALLIES AGAINST THE CAPITOL, THEY ARE NOT OUR ALLIES TRUE. YOU CANNOT TRUST THEM, YOU CANNOT TRUST EITHER SIDE. YOU MUST TRUST ONLY WHAT ALLIES YOU ARE SURE ARE MOTHERFUCKING ALLIES. I SEEK MOTHERFUCKERS TO ILLUMINATE TO THEM THE TRUTHS I PREACH TO YOU NOW. DO NOT TAKE UNNECESSARY RISKS. DO NOT MAKE UNNEEDED MOVES. AND AT ALL COSTS, THE CAPITOL MUST NOT KNOW OF WHAT YOU ARE LEARNING NOW.'
Images of tortures are drawn up, human people for the shortest second, and then suddenly, it's all dark. All the tortures are horned being. All of them are of painted face. The threat: what he will do should she sell him out.
He eases back at last-- not entirely, but enough to let her breathe. Enough to let her see where she is.
'NOD AGAIN IF YOU UNDERSTAND.'
no subject
As each revelation was laid out before her like the contents of a junk drawer the truths of their situation became more clear. The liquid terror working up her midsection now was clawing at her for every inch, and at the revelation behind the alien threat that had nearly taken her life, memories of a horrible pressure and pain in her chest almost drew the scream from her lips.
She did not break his gaze but somehow she knew what she would see if she looked down. Not the aliens from before but more horrible slime pouring out of a gaping wound over her heart. Each thundering thump of the blood pump made the shiny black night mare gush from her chest and speed up it's quest.
The rebellion wasn't coming to save them. It was using them just as much as the Capitol. There was no noble and heroic group ready to avenge them. No Spider-man to swing in and carry her to safety.
This world would use her up till there was nothing left. Her and everyone she cared about.
Even as the scenes of torture sprang to horrible vivid life before her and the nightmare wrapped around her neck, inching along her skull she knew there would be no point in betraying him. He was honest with her which was more then what most of this damned world had offered.
She nodded again feeling her blood run cold. Sucking in a breath through her nose before she realized that she'd been holding her breath in anticipation of being swallowed up by the creature she feared.
no subject
"I can see what all she meant about you, Sand sister. I WANT YOU TO KEEP HER AND YOURSELF IN MIND. I want you to make like all to understand what work must up and be done. WE HAVE ALLIES TO WIN, WE UP AND DO. We have fuckers what all to take apart. YOU WITH ME?"
He knows what she'll choose. He's made sure of it. He will not let any single person fall through on this. But he asks her anyway, because hearing it just makes it that much sweeter.
"Soon it shall be us what win these games." But not the games everyone thinks. "SO LONG AS SECRETS CAN BE KEPT."
no subject
Not for the first time she longs for her powers to make her stable as a stone, and she wishes for the rain to wash away the corruption slithering into her ears and nose and eyes and lips. Even still she can see him, hear him, feel him...or something.
Not for the first time she gives up on the big picture and seizes upon what she can understand. He wants her help, whatever that means. He needs allies, whoever that amounts to.
Is this troll the hero she had been waiting for? Hardly the hero she'd imagined.
But maybe the hero they needed.
He wants vengeance on those that would use and abuse them. On that she can agree.
Finally she speaks and though the nightmare feels like it's crushed her her small voice echoes in the darkness.
"A-fucking-men."
no subject
We got a holy revelation getting occurrence on up in these parts. We got near a motherfucking convert. Let the blood and elixir flow sticky and let the face be star-dusted and fucking painted. Perhaps one day, a sister will know of the two true saviours.
"A-motherfucking-men," The preacher whispers back.