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cityofhex2016-10-29 08:29 pm
modmachine) wrote in cityofhex2016-10-29 08:29 pm
WEEK 01
Somewhere, a gear slips.
It's sunset on Halloween night; a night of celebration for the dead and the once-dead, a night of wariness for those bound closely to the spirits. Everything seems to move more freely on this night; the sensation of boundaries crossed is almost palpable.
A handful of those native to the city will certainly feel such. Between one step and the next, there's a feeling of pushing against something, something you didn't know was there before - and it gives. Physically, nothing changes, but you now know something is wrong, as though waking from a dream. Something has slipped, and you remember. Hajime will feel the sensation most keenly, as the things he recalls lack the sharp details of a demon's memory.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Sixth, the New Arrivals all also find themselves taking steps - the first thing the group will become aware of in the city is being shoved out the door of what seems to be some kind of broken down factory. The alley they step into is wide enough to get a truck through, but shows little sign of human habitation; only a cardboard box, half-dissolved by rain, and a few bits of stray glass from broken bottles can be seen. Their phones and any other communication devices they possess all beep loudly, once, after the door slams shut.
Except... What door? When they next blink, while there's still a vaguely door-like outline, the concrete wall has changed; where the door was, there's a metal sheet, machined with faint circular patterns, seamlessly integrated with the concrete. Banging a fist on it produces a solid sound, as though the metal was at least an inch thick. Though there is a feeling of being watched in the alleyway, no one will approach until they leave it, not even a passerby walking the not-quite-yet-dark street at either end. Until they step out of the alley, it's as though they don't exist.
And there's a good amount of foot traffic passing the alleyway by. Though it tends towards people in a college student age bracket and people in a vaguely street punk sort of fashion with odd accessories, neither is an absolute rule by any rule. Following the flow of traffic leads to a run-down park that's mostly skatepark with a few picnic tables and a small greenspace that's been taken over for a dancefloor. The tables are covered in odd junk and there seems to be some trading going on.
Haseo and Ryoji will both have better knowledge of what the place is, and have standing invitations to the party that's starting up as the Sin-Eater trading post winds down.
Elsewhere: On a beach bordering the bay, a group of changelings holds a bonfire. Periodically, someone throws a papercraft skull into it with extreme prejudice; almost all the skulls are inhuman in some way, though the craftmanship of the paper-mache makes it difficult to tell at times. Those in the know have to be aware that such an overt display won't pass unnoticed by the Autumn King... But the tall and built woman who seems to be the center of the festivities shows no fear in the season of fear.
In the Residential District and even a few places in the Sixth, trick-or-treaters are as much a feature as they are every year. Children in costume run about with little concern for who they approach, while their parents maintain appropriate wariness from sidewalks or cars. A small group of children, however, galivants with no supervision - and there is something uncanny about the trio. It's best to give them a treat if they approach you, else you might find yourself the recipient of a cruel trick in return. Unlike the other trick-or-treaters, they're out and about well past midnight; nearly to dawn, in fact. When the sky begins to lighten, however, all three stop immediately in the middle of what they're doing and - with the sound of mad, fey giggling - bolt off in the direction of the farming district.
The prompts from the Test Drive also remain available for interaction.
The rest of the week:
Weather forecast: Though Halloween is a clear night, clouds steadily roll in for most of the rest of the week, hanging overcast in the sky with occasional breaks and sprinkles of rain slotted in. Mornings are foggy and chill, warming slightly in the afternoons but not varying all too much in temperature. Frost has yet to set in, though, making it possible to sleep outside if you have adequate cover, but it won't be very fun.
Moon Phase: The 30th was a New Moon, so Halloween's sky is decorated by a fingernail crescent that grows to almost a half moon throughout the week.
The Clean-Up: After Halloween, of course, everything must slowly go back to normal. Most folks clean up their own messes throughout the first morning of November, but shards of gutted and thrown pumpkins can be found most everywhere, and at the park where the Sin-Eaters partied, a lone Security Officer inspects the aftermath for signs of unusual activity. Aside from the remains of pumpkins, which are mostly left to rot, decorations vanish over the course of the week and all but a few are gone by Thursday morning.
The College: Though enrollment for the fall semester is over, the deadlines for winter are fast approaching, and there are a number of tables set up in a large area to entice prospective students. Most of them are manned by undergraduates, but the English program's table is staffed most of the time by a single Tired Professor with mousy brown hair. Occasionally, the Tech Student at the next table over takes pity on the man, bringing him a hot-chocolate to help warm his fingers.
[Feel free to use this post as a jumping-off point for logs and interactions! You are also welcome to post your own logs to the community as needed. Mods will be available on plurk and discord to answer questions, and can be hailed for exploration logs off this post.]
It's sunset on Halloween night; a night of celebration for the dead and the once-dead, a night of wariness for those bound closely to the spirits. Everything seems to move more freely on this night; the sensation of boundaries crossed is almost palpable.
A handful of those native to the city will certainly feel such. Between one step and the next, there's a feeling of pushing against something, something you didn't know was there before - and it gives. Physically, nothing changes, but you now know something is wrong, as though waking from a dream. Something has slipped, and you remember. Hajime will feel the sensation most keenly, as the things he recalls lack the sharp details of a demon's memory.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Sixth, the New Arrivals all also find themselves taking steps - the first thing the group will become aware of in the city is being shoved out the door of what seems to be some kind of broken down factory. The alley they step into is wide enough to get a truck through, but shows little sign of human habitation; only a cardboard box, half-dissolved by rain, and a few bits of stray glass from broken bottles can be seen. Their phones and any other communication devices they possess all beep loudly, once, after the door slams shut.
Except... What door? When they next blink, while there's still a vaguely door-like outline, the concrete wall has changed; where the door was, there's a metal sheet, machined with faint circular patterns, seamlessly integrated with the concrete. Banging a fist on it produces a solid sound, as though the metal was at least an inch thick. Though there is a feeling of being watched in the alleyway, no one will approach until they leave it, not even a passerby walking the not-quite-yet-dark street at either end. Until they step out of the alley, it's as though they don't exist.
And there's a good amount of foot traffic passing the alleyway by. Though it tends towards people in a college student age bracket and people in a vaguely street punk sort of fashion with odd accessories, neither is an absolute rule by any rule. Following the flow of traffic leads to a run-down park that's mostly skatepark with a few picnic tables and a small greenspace that's been taken over for a dancefloor. The tables are covered in odd junk and there seems to be some trading going on.
Haseo and Ryoji will both have better knowledge of what the place is, and have standing invitations to the party that's starting up as the Sin-Eater trading post winds down.
Elsewhere: On a beach bordering the bay, a group of changelings holds a bonfire. Periodically, someone throws a papercraft skull into it with extreme prejudice; almost all the skulls are inhuman in some way, though the craftmanship of the paper-mache makes it difficult to tell at times. Those in the know have to be aware that such an overt display won't pass unnoticed by the Autumn King... But the tall and built woman who seems to be the center of the festivities shows no fear in the season of fear.
In the Residential District and even a few places in the Sixth, trick-or-treaters are as much a feature as they are every year. Children in costume run about with little concern for who they approach, while their parents maintain appropriate wariness from sidewalks or cars. A small group of children, however, galivants with no supervision - and there is something uncanny about the trio. It's best to give them a treat if they approach you, else you might find yourself the recipient of a cruel trick in return. Unlike the other trick-or-treaters, they're out and about well past midnight; nearly to dawn, in fact. When the sky begins to lighten, however, all three stop immediately in the middle of what they're doing and - with the sound of mad, fey giggling - bolt off in the direction of the farming district.
The prompts from the Test Drive also remain available for interaction.
The rest of the week:
Weather forecast: Though Halloween is a clear night, clouds steadily roll in for most of the rest of the week, hanging overcast in the sky with occasional breaks and sprinkles of rain slotted in. Mornings are foggy and chill, warming slightly in the afternoons but not varying all too much in temperature. Frost has yet to set in, though, making it possible to sleep outside if you have adequate cover, but it won't be very fun.
Moon Phase: The 30th was a New Moon, so Halloween's sky is decorated by a fingernail crescent that grows to almost a half moon throughout the week.
The Clean-Up: After Halloween, of course, everything must slowly go back to normal. Most folks clean up their own messes throughout the first morning of November, but shards of gutted and thrown pumpkins can be found most everywhere, and at the park where the Sin-Eaters partied, a lone Security Officer inspects the aftermath for signs of unusual activity. Aside from the remains of pumpkins, which are mostly left to rot, decorations vanish over the course of the week and all but a few are gone by Thursday morning.
The College: Though enrollment for the fall semester is over, the deadlines for winter are fast approaching, and there are a number of tables set up in a large area to entice prospective students. Most of them are manned by undergraduates, but the English program's table is staffed most of the time by a single Tired Professor with mousy brown hair. Occasionally, the Tech Student at the next table over takes pity on the man, bringing him a hot-chocolate to help warm his fingers.
[Feel free to use this post as a jumping-off point for logs and interactions! You are also welcome to post your own logs to the community as needed. Mods will be available on plurk and discord to answer questions, and can be hailed for exploration logs off this post.]
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Strange and... she still doesn't feel threatened, not beyond the background creepiness that he emits. What he says makes her shy away a bit, out of immediate reach. She absolutely has no interest in him trying to find her "owner", thank you very much. But the last remark makes her even more curious.
Maybe if she stares at him imploringly he will explain things a bit further, as much as she's probably breaking character even more with that. But she looks just like any other fox. Nobody should be able to track her down. And considering the fox shape she will just hope that it will not occur to anybody to wonder if she was a vampire. After all they only take wolf shapes, right... Not that she thinks that he has much contact with literally anyone else, from what she has observed this evening. Not with how awkward and ...unconnected he seemed. Sure, it could all just be pretence, but she somehow doesn't think so.
Perhaps it is the creepy feeling that he gives off that makes her so relatively trusting. If he actually wanted her ill, he would probably try to hide that better, wouldn't he?
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Of course, she'll probably be gone when he comes back out again... but it's worth a shot.
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She should be thankful that he's going inside so she can just leave and never look back. That would be the sensible thing, the sane thing.
....She'll have to reject the food that he brings out for her, and that will break his assumption that she's just a normal fox, maybe. Though. She's heard stories, packaged in just how degenerated Sabbat vampires are. Stories about Sabbat Gangrel "playing pet", pretending to be a poor street cat or something so a compassionate human will take them home. And pay with carnage in their house, she assumes, but the point of this is, they seem to be able to pretend to be normal animals for at least one night. Rejecting the food probably won't be that much of an issue then.
She goes back and forth on this long enough for Corwin to get up and walk towards the house in question, so that any third option seems to be forfeit anyway.
...So she will just go back an forth on it some longer before she finally decides to stay and wait for him to return.
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He crouches out of grabbing reach, and sets the offerings down on the ground, then crab-walks back a couple waddling paces to let her inspect. "I wasn't sure what you'd like," he admits. "Though I'm pretty sure candy wouldn't have been good for you. I also wasn't sure you'd still be here."
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Now to deal with the food problem. She takes a few steps ahead until she can nose the cheese and other things... Ah, but animals often like to eat in private, don't they?
That works. She diligently picks up the paper plate on the side with the cheese and ham - at least to her, that looks a lot more like fox food than apples and chips (damn, she misses candied apples) - and carries it away, towards some bushes at the side of the road. Some animals will feast there tonight, she's sure.
Once she has put it down in a safe distance, hidden by bushes and out of sight, and waited for long enough that he could assume that she's eaten what he gave her in the meanwhile, she returns. If he's still there, she stops in the same distance as before. If he is not, she will find his trail and follow him.
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But his brain is working, crouched there on the sidewalk, as he watches her come trotting back.
"You," he says after a moment of staring at her thoughtfully, "are an odd little creature. You don't run away from me, you come this close even-- you wait for me to bring you food, and then you care about plates... either there's something funny going on here, or you're trained very strangely by whatever owner you ran away from."
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The problem is that there is a caveat in his words, something that makes her doubt. I won't hurt any living thing. She isn't strictly living anymore, hasn't been strictly alive for over two decades now. Does not being completely dead count as living?
She can't make up her mind, so she just sits there and stares up at him for some time longer, torn between revealing herself (somewhere else. Certainly not out here in the open) and continuing to pretend that she is just a fox.
Eventually, she cautiously moves forward and bumps her snout against his knee, hesitantly. She doesn't know what to do, but she doesn't want him to leave, either.
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When she finally moves, he holds his breath, staying as still as he can. At her touch, he exhales again in something like a soft chuckle, and offers her his hand again, the first step to attempting to touch her, back. "I have no idea if you understood any of that, or if you're just the strangest animal I've ever come across. Either one would be all right, I suppose."
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Does she really want him to get that close?
...And that is when she realized that those are really two separate topics. She doesn't want to be touched, but that has nothing to do with him. She would trust him enough if her issue didn't lie with anyone touching her, and not the other way around.
And who knows if she will find him again... So she prods his knee a second time and then turns around and walks a few steps away before turning her head to look at him.
Follow me?
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Besides, she only needs an area now that is shielded from others' eyes, and this will have to suffice.
She'll turn around every once in a while to try and see if he's still following her, but only fully turns around and stands there for a few seconds, staring up at the dark figure before her, when she is sure that they are hidden away from anyone else who might be watching. When she turns around this time, Corwin will notice that the fox's eyes glow a bright, off-putting predatory red in the dark.
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Who is he to judge strange eyes, though? Given the completely unnatural appearance of his own, he's not about to assume someone else with strange, glowing eyes is automatically up to no good.
"Is that what you wanted me to see, friend?"
1/2
It takes no more than ten seconds, and it is not particularly pretty to look at. Or pretty at all. It's pretty nightmarish, really, bones and flesh and fur and scales and claws and all changing, shifting, cracking, breaking, realigning and mutating.
2/2
She's tall for a woman, though not ridiculously so, but the bat ears add a number of inches and... well, the only thing still giving away that she is a woman at all is a slightly female shape to her hips. Her face certainly doesn't, covered in yellow scales, with a long, forked snake tongue sticking out of it and tasting the air around her in quick, jerky movements, and the rest of her body only looks like the mismatched chimeric nightmare that it is - fur all over, a thick, long, bushy tail, bat wings, hands and feet that resemble those of mice, just with longer talons, and spinnerets on her abdomen.
Her tail twitches nervously as she makes a vague gesture towards herself, anxious for his reaction.
"I wanted to talk to you, but I can't talk while I look," what's the word, she's still only getting used to using those again, "presentable." That's what Lise used to say and laugh. You will never again look presentable enough to be among Kindred not of the same ilk as you and other things, and she would have closed her eyes and tried not to frenzy because that was what the Tremere wanted. "At least not to people." Whatever kind of person he is.
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She's a little busy to respond, though, probably. He continues to stare in wide-eyed concern, even when she's done changing. Apparently his worry that she's still hurting over-rides the weirdness of her appearance, at least for the moment.
"Are you all right?" is his first question, asked hurriedly and accompanied by some anxiously flapping hands-- and by extension anxiously flapping cloak, since that's mostly what's visible of his clothing. "That sounded horrible! Can I help you? Are you hurt?"
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Not that she really expected that, because he is a bit odd, which is why she showed herself in the first place. Very odd. "I'm not hurt. " That at least she can respond to easily. The rest of it... she hadn't even thought about what it sounds like before. And help her? Is she all right?
"...But I can talk to you now." She repeats it again, because that was the point here, and she's not sure what to do without it. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Her tail starts twitching nervously.
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"Supernatural." It feels weird to call herself that. She doesn't think she has ever done it. The way in which she was spoken about and spoke of herself was always much more precise, even if not necessarily in nice terms. "...It doesn't hurt. It's a ...different kind of feeling." She has no idea how to describe it.
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It's impossible to disguise his growing curiosity, now that she's assured him she's not in pain and he can't actually do anything to help her. But he's polite, and he doesn't want to pry-- not yet, anyway. Not until he knows he won't scare her off.
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There is only a moment of hesitation before she continues. He seems ready to reveal himself, and she has already taken the bigger plunge and landed softly. Sure, his creator might have told him terrible things about Kindred, but he also might have told him good things, or nothing at all. "Have you been told about," Kindred or vampire? The more commonly used one, probably, "vampires?"
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She can't see any fire, but that probably means nothing in a being as unnatural as the man across from her.
"He might have called us Kindred, though I think that is mostly what we call ourselves. At least the older ones." She shrugs her shoulders, a bit awkwardly. Out of all Kindred, she's really not the most well suited to explain anything about them. "Most of us mostly look like we did when we were human, but some do not, or ...stop after a while. I looked normal until a few years ago."
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