MOD LOG #3

[bequiet]

MOD LOG #3

Arriving in style
Content Warnings: Fighting, death, violence
Themes: Survival, plot

It's early in the day when it happens. The red dust that seems to be everywhere sweeps through the city streets, mixing with the steady patter of rain and making it hard to see and breathe. All red and leaving the taste of copper if inhaled, what could have been an easy day without any trouble quickly becomes anything but. While those in the community are heading for cover or finding ways to continue on through it, the new arrivals begin waking up in different cities all over the world. There won't be anyone to greet them, and leaving the room through the door is their choice - after doing so, they'll immediately step out into the city they were assigned. The streets are empty, houses abandoned, everything crumbling and in ruins. There will be signs noting their location, which they'll catch a glimpse of before a sharp push forward causes darkness to engulf them.

Waking up for the second time, in Reims but not in the Reset Room, they'll come to inside the red dust as it whips through the streets of the community. They won't be alone for long. Another person will be waking up beside them, and after a few moments of disorientation, try to attack. They might have weapons or use their hands, and they will not stop until they've taken a fatal blow. Their blood is dust, and they, along with their weapons, disintegrate after they've died. Can you stop them on your own? Will someone come to your aid?

The Sight of Lightning
Content Warnings: Poison, sex
Themes: Survival, plot

The day after the storm, the same red dust will find its way through Reims and come into contact with every person. Since the dust is everywhere, some might not notice that it's floating through the community and know that something is off. The effects don't begin until night fall, where everyone will feel the desire to seek out companionship of many different kinds. Though it is not always the case, the people that saw each other in color will "want" to be with that person more strongly than they might already, and will be more likely to confess or do something about it. Some might feel an intense need to be around another person, though not necessarily sexually - almost as if they need that person around them to be happy or content. For some, it might be a desire that can only be fulfilled by more than one person.

The effects wear off the next time the person gets wet. This can be a splash of water across the face or fully submerged. Or even drinking something.

OOC
From your mods:

Please be mindful of content - if something triggery comes up or if it goes up a rating to say, something sexy, mark your threads in the subject line. We're very flexible and allow any material; we just want our players to be respectful of each other. If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment to the appropriate post below. Have fun! The OOC Plotting Post.

NAVIGATION

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Comments

[paragon]

[ It's enough time for Steve to recover from the sudden lack of a body to break his fall, the rest of his surprise warring between the sludge that remains of both bodies, and Natasha. Their jobs — or, failing that, Steve's nature — don't always allow for the luxury of surprise, though, and now doesn't seem to be an exception. Natasha stands over him like an avenging angel, difficult to tell where her hair ends and the swirl of red dust around them ends, and after meeting her eyes (his own wide) he looks away to brace one hand in the muck underneath him and kick upwards hard enough to crush the throat of a man, cutting the screams short. All of the dust from the bodies is starting to run together in small streams of rust-colored mud as Steve stands.

He can't just keep staring at her. There are probably more where those came from. He raises his voice over the wind. ]

Do you know where we are?

[vdova]

The Hunger Games, apparently.

[ She steps close to him, more out of habit and practice than anything else, eyes trained on the crowd starting to surround them. She holds the pole ready, behind her back, her free hand up in a defensive maneuver, and glances up at him out of the corner of her eye. ]

You high, me low?

[paragon]

Let's switch it up.

[ She's got the pole, and he doesn't have the shield. He shifts so his back is to hers, a familiar rhythm. ]

[vdova]

Just like we practiced, [ She murmurs, the touch of his back against hers a comfort she hadn't realized she'd been missing until just now. There's no need to give him a signal. He'll know when to move.

When he goes low, she goes high, using her pole as a vault to leap into the air, coming down hard on one of their assailants. It's not quite enough pressure to completely cave in his skull, but it is enough to crack it, and he explodes into the red dust. Natasha's pole lets out a loud clang as it hits the pavement of the street. Another descends on her, and she jabs up, knocking the woman back via her solar plexus.

Natasha spins as she stands up, twirling the pole out with her hands over her shoulders, and when Steve takes it from her, she dives into a roll. One assailant goes down when she sweeps his legs out from under him. The other stumbles back after she places a well placed fist to his groin. ]

[paragon]

[ When she goes high, he goes low. He crouches to sweep the legs out from under his nearest attacker, kicks hard enough to break the kneecap of the second one. If they feel pain, they're not talking, but it's enough to slow them down until Natasha smacks the pole into his palm. He twirls it over his fingers, and at the end of the arc brings it down on the head of the first body. It trails mud the color and scent of blood, and whistles through the downpour as he swings it wide again, taking out several more legs.

Dust and more dust. One comes up on Natasha as she fights another, pole back in her grip, and he braces a hand on the ground and scissors his legs up, catches the attacker's neck between his ankles and brings it down to the ground with a crack. They continue like this: some of them he leaves for Natasha, aware of her position and readiness and movement as well as ever, and some he kills himself, until it's just the two of them. Steve pushes up from the ground, soaked and dark with red.

He already knows where Natasha is before he looks, glances over her automatically for injuries. ]

Well, I've had worse welcomes.