PHASE I [ 9 00 ] The peace of the morning in the Residential District shatters just as the wall caves through. It’s a small segment of wall -- no more than five feet across at most. And yet the crash and groan of the metal being stretched is ominously accompanied by the distinct piercing screech of metal and another sound. A raucous noise, a combination of ungodly wailing and sharp, victorious laughter spills forth from the hole left in the wall as a myriad of ghosts and spirits erupt from the newly created exit. Characters with any type of spiritual sense will find themselves nearly overwhelmed by the amount of negative ghostly energy that suddenly floods Cerealia and characters with no sense of preservation will find any attempt to enter the hole blocked by the fiercest of ghosts, met with deadly force if they try to pass, as the ghosts won’t hesitate to do things such as reach straight into your body to try to stop your heart.
These ghosts are out for blood, and they don’t seem to stop no matter how you try to talk to them -- they just hiss out, over and over again, “Murderersmurderersmurderers.”
From there, the ghosts move on. Their true target, after all, is CERES… but to them, there’s no difference between the character players and CERES. They’ll go for whoever gets in their way, phasing through walls and becoming tangible long enough to reach for characters before fading away again. Characters with special abilities will find themselves in a similar state. Their abilities may increase and decrease in power sporadically, or be completely gone. They may attempt to cast a spell only to find that the wrong spell is cast instead, or an attempt at healing may end up a more dangerous spell. Be careful with your own magical skills!
Those with items or powers specifically intended to ward off spirits will still fulfill their intended purposes when used – unless malicious spiritual energy gets to them first.
PHASE II [ 1400 ] It seems the ghosts have more tricks up their sleeves. It seems that a not-so-friendly ghost has decided to play a game with you. It doesn't matter where you are, or what you're doing, because a moment later a voice calls out -- Hey. Can you see me? -- and once you turn your head, you’ll come face to face with a surprise.
Who is it in this world (or your world, or any world) that you have managed to disappoint the most? A family member? A friend? Yourself? They face you now, eyes full of sadness, and they say, “I need you to do something for me.” Without another word, they’ll turn away and begin to walk. Your vision grows foggy, focused solely on the need to do whatever this person wants – they need you, after all. Your legs move to follow them, unless you manage to somehow resist.
But you apparently don’t seem to notice that you’re the only one who can see this person – or that they’re leading you stray toward that monorail track with the sound of the train coming closer, or that busy intersection, or right off the sky bridge.
PHASE III [ 600 ] Other ghosts don’t feel like borrowing faces in order to inflict damage. No, they’ll inflict their damage on a far more personal level. They manifest suddenly and without warning – then all it takes is a simple touch. A ghostly hand reaches out to you and it feels like the cold wraps around your heart, and your vision skews, and then... they leave just as suddenly as they came.
Those who have been around for awhile may very well recognize the ghosts, at that.
But the damage has already been done. Depending on a character’s assigned sense, they will feel one of the following changes:
Sight: Hopefully you aren’t in the habit of bending the truth. Dead men tell no tales, they say. But what happens to a living person unable to tell lies? Any attempt at telling any lie or falsehood will cause the character to feel as though their throat has closed off, and they can do nothing more than choke.
Smell: The cold passes, but in some way that it never really leaves. And then everything seems perfectly normal. Nothing has changed, right? You're fine -- except that in a short period of time with how crazy things are, it becomes apparent that you're unable to feel pain. The damage to your body is the same as ever, but dangerously, you can't feel a thing.
Taste: It would appear as though the ghosts have a sense of humor. From those who rest in eternal slumber, try a few days of being unable to sleep. Everything seems fine at first... but slowly but surely, that lack of sleep will start to take its toll.
Hearing: Most others would feel relief once the ghosts left, finally a moment of peace. But you? You don’t feel anything – nothing kind, anyway. Rather, you have been left unable to feel joy. Everything seems either bleak or as though it simply has no emotional impact at all.
Touch: How many deaths have been caused in the name of heroics? Apparently in an attempt to keep future casualties down (or perhaps for their own laughter), the ghosts have left you unable to be brave. Suddenly, a situation you'd face fearlessly is one that has sent you running, panic sharp in your chest.
These effects will last throughout the event, if a character is caught by them.
PHASE IV [ 1000 ] While chaos erupts throughout the city, some of the more misguided ghosts (but still bloodthirsty, so very bloodthirsty) just happened to run into the wrong part of town and don’t know how to give a proper scaring. One ghost seems to think that it was a great idea to possess a masseusebot from the Spa. You’re grabbed suddenly! You fight for your life but can’t seem to get yourself out of its metal grip! With expert precision that only a robot can mange, it finds your pressure points – and releases all that tension from this Incredibly Bad Day. The ghost inside the robot is confused, distressed -- why is this human suddenly so relaxed? It only wants to murder. But the only illegal thing happening here is how good this massage makes you feel.
Maybe later you’ll walk down the street and get stopped by the ghost that possessed a balloon dispenser. Perhaps a ghost has possessed the friendly McCERES mascot, and is now handing out coupons with murderous intent. And of course, there are always the hug bots...
Look, they tried really hard, okay.
Of course... they might end up possessing technology a little closer to home as well, at which point it's not so funny.
BONUS [ xxxx ] Hopefully you have friends who have ghost-fighting skills. Or ghost-taming skills. Or ghost-bellydancing skills, who knows, we won't judge them if you don't. But what of those poor people who come from worlds where the supernatural is some weird television show?
Worry not, poor souls, for CERES is here to provide! Some time after the ruckus begins, characters will find what looks to be a hand-held vacuum cleaner situated innocuously in their rooms (only one per person, you greedy gus). The logo on the side will helpfully inform you that this is of CERES make, because the paper pamphlet beside your new device? Well, it's more like a picture book. Observe Stick-Man Sully as he uses his vacuum cleaner to capture ghosts! Learn from his stellar example! Do not stick the hose in your mouth or attempt to give the vacuum CPR, there's a big X over that picture. Also of the one where Stick-Man Sully sets his captive ghosts free once more, we don't want that, do we?
Your new ghost vacuum should prove effective against any ghastly ghoul that shoots your way, but beware! Should you capture a ghost and not turn in your vacuum to CERES for weekly ghost disposal, your ghost will serenade you in the wee hours of the morning with its song of choice. If you capture a whole horde of ghosts, well, congratulations. You have a boy band living in your vacuum.
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ] |
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[ he probably won't slap him, or outright punch him— but his grip against steven still remains firm and bundled, and briefly, he gives him a shove, meant to shake him up as he lifts himself off the ground.
yes, that is a weavile, and he's looking at steven with a little less harshness and more confusion than silver. ]
Snap out of it. You almost killed yourself.
[ tone serious and demanding, but at the same time— he's piecing things together here. that's all he says before he hesitates, and— offers his hand to him. yeah you better grab that before he changes his mind. ]
no subject
holy shit. holy shit.
his face goes pale at his words when he begins to realize exactly what happened, a hand moving to cover his mouth as he processes the shock. silver isn't mincing his words - whether he was aware of it or not, he almost died. ]
I didn't...
[ his voice is hesitant and frail - a large leap from his usual confident speech. it takes him a moment, but he takes silver's hand to lift himself back up. when he's back standing, his breathing is a little heavier as he tries to calm himself down. he isn't quite sure what he can say. ]
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he almost died and that was scarier than silver would like to admit— it looked like steven didn't even know what he was doing. and what if he hadn't gotten to him in time? he would have— seen something gruesome and traumatic, that right now he doesn't even want to think about. it didn't happen. they were here now.
silver has to take a moment of quiet to put himself back together, calm his own breathing, and his own mind, because he could carelessly snap at steven again if he wasn't careful, and it's noticeable that he blurted out of anger and worry, that he wasn't gentle and didn't choose the right way to go about it. weavile takes steps back to silver, looking up at him and giving a short nya to get his attention, cocking his head sideways.
right— weavile was right. ]
—Hey. [ voice still firm, an underlying shake in it that's camouflaged, too subtle to take note of unless one had deathly good hearing ( like weavile, for example, where his ear-feathers flick ).
he's already starting to feel a bit— well, the feeling that pulls in his chest isn't a good one. was it remorse? gah— ]
Look, I—. . . Sorry, alright?
[ it's quiet, but it's an apology that's as sincere as he could make it, his limitations aside. ]
—You aren't like that. Get yourself up.
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he can't ask himself what he was thinking, because he wasn't - the time between when he saw that "illusion" of may up to now is a complete blur, and he can't remember a thing. he probably deserves to be snapped at - if he weren't so thrown into shock, he'd be mad at himself.
he almost misses the apology that silver gives him as he paces around, trying to reason what just happened while avoiding a slip into full-blown panic. he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. ]
Don't apologize. I'm in your debt.
[ his voice sounds hoarse and scared - something that a champion should never let themselves outwardly be. it's a stark contrast to how he's spoken to silver in the past, and it shows.
he gives a moment's attention to beldum, holding it in his arms and hushing it. ]
no subject
You don't owe me anything.
[ it has a touch of "and you better not". he still has a total . . . odd sort of view on things like these, to the point where he could even contradict himself sometimes ( not that that's the first time he's contradicted himself ). maybe when he starts getting a better understanding of it all—
but for now, he gives a sharp gesture to beldum. that touch of fear in steven's voice isn't letting him feel any better; his words hold some sharpness, but with reason, and it probably isn't jabbed too deep to cut. ]
It doesn't belong out here right now.
[ he's too young— too weak, and that doesn't leave from a bit of a judging look to the pokemon. if a stronger one of his had been out, he wouldn't have ended up the way he did. ]
no subject
he'll simply sigh, looking to beldum. the poor thing looks like it's about to cry (if it had tear ducts), but he reaches to his belt for its poke ball. ]
He's right. It isn't safe for you.
[ and he'll recall it without another word. he'll have to talk to it later - there's going to be repercussions for all of this. after a few more silent moments of pacing and thinking, he speaks up. ]
It was one of those spirits, I'm sure of it. It put me into some kind of... trance.