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. ] |
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's only then that he has a chance to actually look at who he almost pulverized - oh man, him again? Except Dipper doesn't have much time to focus on being annoyed, considering those ghosts are still hot on his tail and now that he's stopped, they see an opportunity to attack. Aaaand then there's the car.
So what else can he do? He picks up his bike and runs alongside Silver.
They are totally going to die. (He will ask about the feathery weasel later.) ]
We can't outrun them forever! We need a plan!
no subject
that is a car that's running over anything in the way from small monuments to signs, and a bunch of ghosts wailing overhead and wow they are now inevitably closer. the unnatural roar of the car's motor is a little bit more alarming, though. ]
I'm thinking— [ it was hard to come up with a plan so quickly— it wasn't a wild pokemon and he's never been chased by a vehicle before and
—dipper???? YOU HAVE A BIKE ] What're you— get on it, you'll go faster!!
[ it's almost said angrily, but— alright, he's got a plan! that would require a certain someone, but he's willing to take the chance here to shake them all off, considering they'll be vulnerable for enough time to be gotten to.
in between puffed breathes as he runs ( which, he's actually pretty athletic for— trainers and their adventure grown stamina ), he maps it out in his head head, before— ]
You're going to have to trust me! Weavile can stop the car, but Gengar's the only one who can cover for us!
[ yes or yes-- i mean yes or no??? ]
no subject
I'm not just going to leave you here! [ He's one of those dumb hero types, burdened with trying to not abandon people he doesn't even like that much.
He glances over his shoulder again - oh geez, that car really is almost on top of them. He's desperate enough to listen to whatever plan Silver has cooked up while he attempts to devise a contingency one of his own - but then he blanches. ]
What? Ohhhhh - that sounds like a great idea! Send your ghost up against more ghosts! Why didn't I think of that?
[ The Pokemon who had toyed with his fear for fun and then laughed at him? That's the creature Silver wants covering for them?
...But do they even have another choice? ]
no subject
—okay, maybe hero types aren't so bad these days! but geez! don't embarrass him like that! ( frowning deeply, now he has to make this all work— )
weavile makes an alarmed yapping sound, asking for something to be done soon, because ghosts controlling cars? they're ramming all over the place and don't give a trubbish. it's probably only that that makes them look like they're choking up on the chase from time to time, but once they figure out how to straight, that's where things get inevitable panicky.
the sound of his tongue clapping against the roof of his mouth goes right here. ]
He's the only other one that has type advantage! [ or at least something similar to it, he's never been up against real ghosts before!!! and also type weakness BUT— he'd rather gengar hit hard for sure instead of letting the others try and they end up in an even tighter situation. ]
Any other ideas?!
[ yEP that sure is the car beeping at them, the headlights beginning to shine brighter— the only thing weavile could do without leaving them alone or slowing down is blow shards of ice towards the car and some overhead ghosts to disrupt them, hoping it would stall a bit. it cracks the windshield, makes a few dents, even makes it swivel once, twice— but he doesn't have much aim or control looking over his shoulder, and once some ghosts disperse from the attack they group right back. ]
no subject
If the choice is between letting Gengar go to town or dying?
...Well. ]
Okay! Fine! Just do it!
[ He is about 1000% sure he is going to regret this, but he is even more sure he will regret getting run over by a ghost-driven, car. ]
( 1 / 2 )
Let the others through, just focus on the car! [ a plan that might have sounded crazy at first— sure, let all the other ghosts go for them! feather weasel has reason to look worried, and gives him said look for a few moments— stern, but there's enough trust here for him to give a curt nod after. ]
We'll be fine—Go. [ weavile stops right in his tracks then, turns to face the oncoming vehicle. things were going to happen fast here, so he had to do his part well. he huffs, inhaling sharply and letting his chest inflate until it seems ready to burst, holds, waits until just the very last moment— and when headlights beam in his eyes, he lets that air he's been holding in out in a harsh woosh of wind. ice cracks over every bit of surface it touches, from the ground to metal, and just as fast as the sound rings behind the boys, the car is no more. or, is, it's just been massively frozen into place like the worst blizzard in history focused and compacted into seconds.
and that's where gengar comes in; the free ghosts that had chased dipper and now accompany the car go wild and fly ahead when the frost strikes, dispersing but coming back into a group as they hone in on their targets. they seem to have claws out, and those overlapping whispers almost feel like they're going to drill into their heads. silver clicks gengar's ball open and tosses the device up ( it makes a crack, a light that pops out and replaces it with the dark figure of gengar's shadow ), and also makes sure to grab at the collar of dipper's clothes so he doesn't keep running when silver seems to stop. nope, he's not taking any chances. he's trying to stay as leveled as possible, but it's a little more than clear that there's a touch of fear in his eyes, with the way his heaves under the huffs from running shake him up.
gengar was a goof with a twisted sort of humor and a knack for trouble, he was, but when the pattering of his "silly boy"'s heart rattled that way— ah, that pushed a few different buttons that switched his playfulness to protection. gengar slams into the ground as they stop, already looking in the direction of the ghosts, with his arms spread out as if to form a wall, while silver crouches down behind him and pulls dipper over to do the same. they don't see it, his spiky back is to them, but his irises form excited slits, devilish grin lifting and curling so high you'd think it'd start coming off of his face. his tail twitches, left and right. like that of a cat that's found something, and the only signal to the package he presents is a low, scheming laugh enough to bring shivers.
gengar's body seems to fade, form gas as he takes a more flexible form, larger and waiting— he lets the ghosts come, together in that chorus of wails. lets them get close oh so close . . . so that he could lunge at them, and quite literally sink his teeth into them. his jaws envelope them whole, each and every ghost getting sucked and slurped into him until his cheshire grin shuts with a clean clasp, and body beginning to take its usual form. he flutters down, stubby hands to his tummy while they all visibly thrash in his mouth, pushing from the inside of his cheeks ( he even hops on one foot comically as they move-- whoa there! ). he chews once, a gushy sound mixing about from him, his tongue moves around— and sure enough, the harsher movements seem to slowly die out, losing its rage, and gengar chuckles. pleased, and satisfied.
it's a ghost eat ghost world out here huh ]
( 2 / 2 )
gengar turns to the boys with a shuffle of his also stubby legs, hands still against what should be his stomach, expression the same— smile wide, eyes eerie. all good? all good. silver begins to lift with a sigh of relief, weavile making his way on over too to check everything, and to give gengar a teammate greeting. "gya!"
ghost type pokemon were known to feed off of negative energy, life energy as a whole— although not even silver has seen gengar actually feed off . . . things . . . like that.
he'd rather not think about where those ghosts came from, and start feeling great to be alive. to dipper: ]
. . . Did anything touch you?
[ at least on his end, he was ghost free. except gengar makes a sound for eyes to go to him, then opens his mouth and without much gentleness, rolls his tongue out to drop a glob of wet, saliva dunked-- ectoplasm???? at their feet. you know, like cats. since you guys don't know how to hunt, here. let him show you . . . what's left of it, at least.
think owl pellets
except with ghosts and that's disgusting, if the sudden contortion on silver's ( and weavile's ) face is anything to go by. ]
no subject
Or, at least, what the feathery weasel is doing is cool. Gengar? Well. Dipper trains his eyes on the Pokemon, though his back is too them and he doesn't have a good vantage point. Even with what Silver had said, Dipper half-expected Gengar to turn around and stick his tongue out at them instead of what he does do - which is sure eat a bunch of ghosts.
Yeah, he just ate ghosts.
Wide-eyed in dismay - and perhaps just a teensy bit of admiration - when Gengar turns back to them and spits out the remains of the ghosts, Dipper stares and nods, slowly at first, and then more fervently. ]
Uh - no. I'm fine. You?
[ All said rather numbly, as he continues to stare at Gengar. The hell did he just witness. ]