anxiogenic: (Dread)
Dr Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow ([personal profile] anxiogenic) wrote in [community profile] maskormenacelogs2015-08-15 10:11 am
Entry tags:

Fearfest 2k15

WHERE: De Chima University; exhibition center and campus grounds.
WHEN: Saturday August 15th, 4.45pm start.
WHAT: A registration at the annual technology fair, with a fireworks display!
WARNINGS: Non-consensual use of fear toxin, disturbing mental images, cannibalism and violence. Characters are going to be a psychological mess.

"A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more."
- John Steinbeck, East of Eden.

Disunity had been the aim of last month's game. Secrets and lies and truths in fiction. Suspicions in minds. Doubts on tongues. Gossip block-printed in rags. Newspapers, from tabloids to broadsheets, had carried the news; some left-leaning publications had made a greater dinner of the expose than others. Scandalous magazines and imPort celebrity weeklies showed versions of the same 'exclusive', and many daytime shows pandered to the demographic who believed there was nothing to worry about if you had nothing to hide.

The last swearing-in of the summer has people gathering in the Exhibition Center of De Chima University, where certain imPorts have worked before. Spread out over the campus, every imPort will rub shoulders with the local students and faculty of the School of Applied Technology. Inside they will see a staircase with an events banner strung over the atrium. Outside there are modern interpretations of classical statues, on square plinths, and inside there's metal sculptures of scientific and technological principles. Rules discovered by those who studied the world they lived in; procedures and concepts of both organic and inorganic forces. Next to them are standing banners flapping in the breeze, tied to weights, to which blue, purple and silver balloons have been tied with thin string.

The Exhibition Center, located next to the park, is hosting the annual highlights of scientific progress this Saturday evening. The spacious Exhibition Hall that occupies most of the interior space serves as the focal point for the annual technology fair, and expects a smart-casual dress code. The focus of this evening is on medical technology and the benefits imPort involvement can bring. People are free to wander in and out of the building as they wish. The forecast is for a warm, clear evening, with no coastal wind or rain to bring cool relief. People are also free to wander around the center to explore rooms and corridors not locked and bolted to the crowd. Everyone is free to investigate for troublemakers or to cut through the crowd - or to see what isn't locked down and there for thieving. But try not to be caught by the security cameras!

If you climb upstairs or catch a lift to the upper levels of the Center, you will be able to access the grand and expansive glass floor that gives you a bird's eye view of the Exhibition Hall far below - if you've got the guts! There's a stack of supplies stored behind a large exhibition banner attached to the far wall, and you may peek inside to check them out. There's nothing that seems suspicious. A couple of anti-flammable canisters, containing nothing more suspicious than foam. Just try to enjoy the sights beneath your feet.

MEDTEC - the National Exhibition for AMERICAN Medical Technology

With the minutes passing by, with hundreds of figures in the crowd moving between the Exhibition Hall and the various function rooms, the event seems to pass without celebration or accident. That is no promise the evening will be uneventful.


The doors are thrown open to the crowd, who are free to collect their passes in advance from any available kiosk, or by digital means; electronic tickets on their phones to hard passes collected from the mailman or the University's box office. For those last-minute registrations, passes are available just inside the doors. Feel free to arrive early or wander in ten minutes before closing. It's all good!

MEDTEC - 4.45PM - 8PM

Get out on the floor. You are free to watch any of the displays local companies and R+D have to offer. This is a good time to watch the crowds or to slip out for a visit to the rest of the center. If you wander upstairs, you'll find locked corridors and rooms. But feel free to wander towards the glass ceiling that's above the Exhibition Hall.

Companies who provide to both civilians and the military are here - though you'll notice a lack of high-level technology for the latter. There's a hexagonal stage at the back of the Exhibition Hall that's standing ready for the imPort displays coming later. Please do not touch the tech if signs say not to. But don't think that means you can't try.


The stage is lit. You may want to head over if you wish to see what your fellow imPorts have cooked up - or even to put on your own show! You'll get an explanation about the cash prizes on offer, and the scholarships. Or you'll wonder why you're watching this ass-patting when there's hardly an inch of space anywhere around the stage.


The Exhibition Hall is closed. The function room next door is thrown open for imPort milling. Make friends around the tables and order free food and drinks from the bar. Sit back, throw your feet up and take a load off. Lighten up! You're here to let your hair down. Please listen out for the public address that announces the upcoming awards show in Conference Room 2, and the fireworks display that's scheduled at 9:10pm outside. You'll get a good view of it from the park.


To those exploring the grounds outside the center. Have fun. The balmy night is perfect for walking around without a jacket. Feel free to sling it over your shoulder and enjoy the hot summer air. How the hell is it this warm, anyway? Don't jump in the fountain by the park, kids. Don't put bubble-bath or soap in it, either. Go past it and check out the park, or not. 7You may like to step back into the city. Just be careful of the traffic.

You are free to avoid the main roads for smaller side-streets, but that won't help you. The trash bins hold too much litter. You may wish to investigate them, but will find nothing. But much of the urban area and parkland is turned to a new, sinister purpose. There are minute bombs hidden in drains, or in flower baskets. In every miniscule place in the corner of your eye that escapes your notice. Timed devices primed to detonate in sync with the green and yellow fireworks overhead.

At 9.30PM, the earth will seem to split open and rumble. People screech and shriek about a range of hallucinations; from finding their loved one's body in the city morgue, to being the meal for a pack of monsters, to a flock of crows diving from the railings and rooftops to rip them apart. Those terrified of spiders see nothing but; on the floor, in windows, crawling up the walls. Some folk cough and splutter. Unable to breathe, they suffer a heart attack and can die on the spot. Others are given to a frenzy by the gas, and some experience flashbacks to hideous crimes - except they are the lunatic responsible for murdering children, or the killer stalking people through the streets at night.

It smells of pollution. It smells of fireworks. It smells of street food. There's the sound of blaring horns due to the traffic. There's the smell of fire, caused by the delirious rioting, and blood spilled by those around them, whom they cannot see. The gas enters cars, apartments and buildings with their windows open; the chaos echoes indoors as much as out. Those driven to a murderous lunacy pursue other victims of the gas through a twisted, nightmare version of their neighborhood, and violently resist any calls to cease and desist.

The gas hangs heavy on the air and fills the campus, engulfing the streets, entering the university buildings and student apartments. People around you are panicking, violent, delirious. You might experience what they do. You might hear the screaming, the illegible yelling and see cowering people talking of spiders, ghosts and scarecrows. You might rush indoors to help. You might meet friends who you wish to kill. Or you might run off in a manic state - unable to realize you're running into open traffic. Oh dear.


Celebration time. The University has arranged a judging panel that has deliberated on the technology imPorts put on offer - this is the hour where your contributions to local society are being noticed and celebrated. Between the floor and stage, to the assembled chairs and technological displays dotted around the vacant exhibition hall, there's little standing room. You're free to stare down from the glass ceiling high above, or to stand at the back of the crowd below, but don't crowd the doors.

At 9.30PM, with the judges leaving the hexagonal stage so the Head of Applied Technology can present the first award, you might hear a loud hiss of air. A gas leak! The particles are colorless till they meet the oxygen in the room and form a grey cloud that fills every inch of space, from the upper echelons of the ceiling above the glass, to the chairs and the floor down below.

It doesn't smell, and the effects are instantaneous. All noises and images will twist and warp. You might find the neon lights burn as hot as sun-fire. You might see the room on fire and hear the horrific screaming of those trapped and dying in the ruined building you now find yourself in. Perhaps you smell ashes. Or perhaps you smell saltwater and brine - you're drowning! Or you might be one of the few. The brave. The unaffected. Look around and you will see some in the crowd clawing their faces to oust whatever they think is wriggling beneath their skin. They scream and they cry. Others devour their own skin, suffering from hunger - or they eat the flesh of others. They turn on each other. They turn on you.

If that's not enough there's a different show in store. You might be unfortunate enough to be on the glass floor when it kicks off. Enjoy it or don't. It's all the same.

GOGO - 9.30PM - 10PM

At 9.30PM, you may think the metal warping around you is just another part of the hallucination. But it's real. The expo hall groans as the walls react to another power, and the displays twist as if a greater force is squeezing them and pulling.

Before too long, the smaller things rattle and jump back and forth across the room. Pens, instruments, small change, etc; even piercings will tug at the skin with increasing force until they may just rip out to join the rising storm of metal. You can stay and test your luck, dodging unpredictable attacks, or you can risk escaping into the night, out from underneath an increasingly unstable roof. Just pray the decoration in the hall doesn't crash into you as you flee.

At 10PM, the stress of the chaos is finally too much for the expo hall. The supports have twisted beyond recognition, the walls damaged by their own warping and displays crashing into them at force. There's a loud crack as one of the supports snaps under the weight of the glass ceiling and with a heavy shudder the whole network starts to unravel and sends the ceiling crashing down. Anyone on the second floor may be lucky enough to get out of the way before it drops, or perhaps they can grab hold of a railing that will creak under their weight.

Or maybe you are one of the unlucky ones who rides the glass from above, all the way to where it shatters across the floor.


Ten minutes past the hour, as a loud bang echoes for each firework shot into the night, the sky over the park is filled with the sort of brilliance one would only see on the Fourth of July. You might ask what's a nighttime event without fireworks, anyway?

For that charming couple on their date, to the curious student, an extravagant display comes on the rocket-propelled tails of rockets and bombs and flares. Look to the sky and lose yourselves in the colors as they appear - crimson stars and butterflies, and the pink crackling comets that leave behind a tail of effects. A red geometric circle of lines and dots glitter and break apart into smaller circles, then scatter and disappear, their fuel and powder spent. Memories of the sight are left behind; the smoke barely visible overhead; the smoldering gunpowder - and the warm company of whoever you're with. Perhaps you're one of those unafraid to visit such events alone. Perhaps you have a brilliant memory and the sight has burned itself into your eyes. One display follows another till the last; the end of a 25 minute display mentioned over the public address and published in the brochure.

At 9.30PM, the fireworks fizzle out. The display is over. It should be over. Then there's one more show - a collection of rockets and flares colored in yellows and greens, the colors one associates with poison and sees in cornfields. The colors are sickly and nausea-inducing as they explode in the night sky. It's just another display, right? Then cracks appear in the sky itself! All the yellows and greens, blacks and blues run into the white, hollow emptiness.

Perhaps you believe those eyes in the firmament are real. Or you're part of the crowd who believes the entire sky is falling down. A stampede breaks out. The slow are trampled underfoot. Students, faculty and guests stand shock-still. Some are clawing at their eyes. Others cannot contain themselves and empty their lungs with unfocused wailing. From the sky fall shards of glass. A flood of color threatens a deluge, even as the smoke and particles of the toxic gas contained in those green and yellow fireworks are carried by the wind over the locality.


There's a collection of police, emergency services and reporters in a boundary around the university area and affected streets. Safe on the edge of the gas cloud, they are evacuating the surrounding areas. Ambulances and stretchers are ready for the wounded; RISE and any relevant factions may be helping with the chaos - or caught up in it themselves.

You might be trapped within the gas, cowering in fear. You might irrationally run into the lights you see in the haze, not knowing what you are seeing or the faces that watch you scramble by, screaming illegibly. You might be directing others in the chaos. You might be one of the people driven manic by it all. You might emerge from the mist with blood on your hands. You might recall how it got there. You might not. But you won't forget this night, will you?
flamels: (I led you in hopeless dreams)

I have been waiting for this only foreeeeever.

[personal profile] flamels 2015-08-15 10:14 am (UTC)(link)
a: imPort Displays

[Ed isn't presenting anything of his own, but he is in attendance to check it out anyway. What Hiro and any others might have planned for this little presentation of sorts. Can't hurt to have a look, regardless of crowds making him feel stifled and his growing unease and paranoid over the last couple of weeks. So he's fidgety as he watches, clearly restless and anxious in spite of his attempts to clap and smile, encourage like the rest of the crowd.]

b: Fireworks and Fun.

[Initially, everyone is just happy watching the fireworks. Ed can't help jumping at the initial loud 'bang's, thinking of Kimblee even if he knows it's just the display and not actually the alchemist wrecking havoc. Not that this stops him. It only gets worse as the show continues, before it suddenly stops. And it's like some sort of switch is flicked with how quickly and violently everything changes.

It's hardly surprising that Ed reacts so much. Not when he's been dealing with this building over the last while as Crane increased his dose he injects into the alchemist to 'help' with his nightmares. This only pushes it further, brings it to the forefront as he breaks. It's possible he may see others as figures of his mother, of Nina, Tucker or even think they might be Envy in disguise given that particular homunculus can shapeshift. In some cases, this will mean he could get violent as a result, entering into an instinctive fight-or-flight response. And not just greeting others with his fist, but using alchemy. Using alchemy that could be rather destructive unless others might be able to restrain him.

Otherwise, he'll eventually seem to calm from being so violent, merely reduced to unintelligible screaming or simply repeatedly stammering that he's sorry. About what, or to whom, he doesn't specify.]
mathemagier: u kno not 2 whom u spek (Peasant)

9:30 Award Ceremony- Hermann, Newton, Steve and Qubit

[personal profile] mathemagier 2015-08-15 10:33 am (UTC)(link)
The exhibition hall had been a fascinating spectacle of new, promising technology and despite the fact that it didn't directly relate to either of their fields, Hermann and Newton decided to attend the award ceremony. They'd come in at nine o'clock on the dot, but it was still something of a fight to secure a single seat on the edge of an aisle, with Newton standing close like some sort of guard.

Although they both knew that standing for long periods of time wasn't Hermann's forte, the utter lack of even a teasing argument and the way Newton had acted as a particularly stubborn buffer between the crowds of people and his cane left him with the lingering impression that Newton was still trying to make up for the incident at Stark's. Admittedly, it did soften the blow some, as he'd desperately needed the assistance to avoid tripping over every turned out shoe in attendance over the course of five hours. Perhaps they'd have a more rational discussion about it when they got back to their hotel room.

For now it was simply nice to take a much-needed break and watch as the first award was presented. Truly, this world had made astounding medical progress in spite (or possibly because of) the difficulties the dimension faced. K-Day had put many of their own advances on hold for 12 long years.

The sound that hissed through the air slowed the applause to a halt, and conversations dimmed, then rose in confusion. Hermann looked to Newton, puzzled and mildly concerned, then found his gaze drawn to the thickening mist billowing under the lights of the center stage and spreading throughout the room. Their hosts looked just as confused as everyone else, and that was never a good sign. The smoke was odorless and moderately more concerning for that fact alone, he placed a hand on Newton's arm and levered himself up out of his chair.

"We should go." Around them, other people were having the same idea, and he just hoped to get out before there was a stampede for the doors.
hisheartsdesire: (ltj 5)

Tobias "Toby" Matthews; OTA

[personal profile] hisheartsdesire 2015-08-15 10:37 am (UTC)(link)
After 8pm
[The sun goes down around 8:02pm in De Chima, Virginia, and so Tobias reaches the university grounds sometime afterward. He'll mostly be wandering around to take things in since he hasn't really been around here before, so he'll be more than happy to socialize with anyone. But the strong and weird mixture of smells outside will eventually drive him to seek refuge in the function hall for drinks and networking.]

After 9pm
[He decides to brave the smells of the university grounds and head over to the park to watch the fireworks show. There are lots of other people who've already picked out good spots, but Tobias will still try to get as good a view as possible and whip out his phone to take pictures.]

After 9:30pm
[As the show comes to an end, a low hum comes over the crowd as they grab their belongings and shuffle their way out in conversation. The sound of more rockets going up again interrupts everyone. The sky itself seems to explode into colours that blend into white before a stomach-twisting odour fills the air. Tobias drops to his knees at first and cowers beside a tree in fear, but he manages to steel his resolve enough to attempt helping others escape the insanity.]
Edited (Putting catatonia under its own for cw.) 2015-08-15 17:45 (UTC)
chiroptophobic: (Bat; Shadowed)

Batman + Batwing / Registered

[personal profile] chiroptophobic 2015-08-15 11:44 am (UTC)(link)
After 8pm

[ The family were all here, in their capacity, dressed for the potential of having to fight. It was the first time, to be fair, that the Batman had ever attended one of these events, Bruce usually came in his usual mask, a black tuxedo and a bow tie, not this. The full cowl that he wore featured white slits where the eyes ought to be--his heat sensitive night vision upgrade, which would come in useful if this all turned sour. He wore his full body armor, and the long black cape behind it.

The fact was, Crane had gone AWOL, and this was just as much an opportunity for him to go after a large group of people as anything else. He'd been preparing in secret for months, although never in a way that the family could trace him, but the warehouses they'd raided had occasionally turned up a civilian or two, later discovered to be practicing Satanists. Then Crane had vanished, just weeks ago, triggering a step up in caution.

He tried to avoid entering any of the more crowded spaces on the campus, keeping to the outside spaces, looking for anything out of the norm. If Crane were to attack this event, it would be cleverly concealed, so that the attack wouldn't be seen until the last minute, and so the black clad figure with the gleaming white eyes could be seen moving suspiciously around and over the campus grounds. Feel free to think he's up to something himself.


After 9.30

[ Crane had slipped through his fingers, and now there was only chaos, the screaming of people around him. Bruce was forced to guard himself against sudden wild attacks from terrified strangers, which didn't help exactly, given that the fear toxin had had its wicked way with him itself. Alfred had developed what he suspected might be an antidote to the toxin, but its actually protective effect was limited. He still felt the terror seeping in under his skin, and had to physically fight against the sensation, the way it seized in his chest, the sudden flashes of thousands of wings, or worse, the flashbacks to the narrows, the pressing of screaming people, the deep uncompromising terror that he wouldn't be able to help them pounding in his veins.

But he moved. He kept moving, because he had to help them, had to find Crane, or stop this. He spoke sharp incomprehensible words into his cowl, sending messages to other members of the League in case they weren't present, to anyone who could bring in more help. The gas was still spreading. He gave the command code to the Batwing, and went to work trying to save these people from themselves. If only they'd been able to synthesise more of this antidote, for all the good it did. Something told him they'd need it.

Batman thrust and elbowed his way through the crowd as best he could, but where people needed help he had to intercede. He couldn't just let them...he couldn't let them destroy each other, eat each other. He couldn't let them down!


The Batwing

[ The ship isn't the first thing you notice. In fact, its the sound of the thing, that comes first. To those who have been exposed to the fear gas - most people - it's the screaming roar of a dragon or a vicious lion mawed chimera; the winged monkey army coming to get them. The noise of the engines makes the windows of the buildings rattle, and then the ship appears over the top of the nearest building. Like a giant bat, or an invading alien spaceship, or an enormous dragon breathing blue fire.

It comes on its remote control approach, lowering itself into a crouch above the park grounds where just a few minutes before crowds had cheered over fireworks. Batman pulled himself into the cockpit, and took control of the thrusters himself, turning the ship upward. This gas had to be stopped from spreading, but God, the scale of it. He'd prepared absorbent canisters in the case of just an occasion as this, but there was no way he could prevent the worst of it.

This was all his fault.

He called up the external speakers, and spoke into them, his gruff, semi-synthetic voice lifting over the muffled scream of the Batwing's engines.
] Anyone out there need a lift?
Edited 2015-08-15 11:45 (UTC)
iamtetsuo: icon by rc (very much not okay)

Tetsuo Shima | OTA

[personal profile] iamtetsuo 2015-08-15 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
9 PM
[It took him ages to get around to getting here, but Tetsuo decided to check out this place by lurking around the outskirts - he's going to be making a beeline towards where he can't really be found as easily. Yes, he's curious, but he's gonna try to find somewhere he can't actually be identified or possibly forced into cooperation.

This means...]

10 PM- after
[Tetsuo's in the room above the expo hall when all this starts really going down. Glass shatters, and simultaneously he's plummeting down into the fear gas itself before he can figure out how to react. He's got just enough time to work out how not to hit the floor painfully while being pelted with various debris.

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, the pain is the last thing he's focusing on. He does manage to cut his speed somehow - self-levitation apparently is something he can do - before being buried under a lot of rubble.

And then a huge sphere of energy rips up and THROUGH with an audible scream, leaving him bloodied, wide-eyed and murderous in the center. Everything is layered under various hallucinations - those aren't people around him; they're monsters, and then they're people again, then there's nothing around him for miles, then he's back in that hospital.... it doesn't matter - everything is awful, everything is going to kill him, but he's going to STRIKE FIRST. Keep attacking until everything stops.

ANYthing in his way is going to be subject to extreme shows of force all around him - he'll be lashing out indiscriminately at everything and anything remotely near him, and he'll be throwing chunks of rubble and glass around. This includes: a nearby police officer trying to evacuate people who wandered too close to him. Well. Two halves of one by the time he's done with the poor cop.]

Unclear as of yet - Tetsuo will not be conscious for it.

[[ooc: I might edit later, had to throw this up very quickly so I wouldn't lose it. Will be back later today, but enjoy a murderous rampage. Please be warned your character will quite likely be injured if you want to tag.]]
Edited 2015-08-15 21:38 (UTC)
coppelganger: (the leader)

sarah manning

[personal profile] coppelganger 2015-08-15 12:09 pm (UTC)(link)
( a ) the function room: 8-9 pm

[ Sarah's decided that attending these swearing-in things is a necessary evil. She's not into the whole ceremony aspect of them, or feeling like she's being put on display for all the civilian gawkers who show up, but there's always free drinks and food. And she's learned from years of experience not to turn down a free meal when it's offered. She's dressed casually, tonight, in jeans and a black tank top, her leather jacket draped over one shoulder. After all, it's not her ceremony, is it?

At any rate, she sticks close to the bar for most of the night, carrying her standard drink, a bourbon rocks, and watches the people mingling, looking out for anyone she knows or might like to talk to. ]

( b ) the park: 9:30-???

[ The fireworks show is a typical summer thing. All it does it make her miss Kira, wish she was home. She's already turning to leave the park - no point staying here any longer, not if the show's over and she's in a shitty mood anyway - when the green and yellow flares shoot into the sky, making her turn back to look.

Everything happens so fast. She's caught up in a wave of screaming, fighting people, but as far as she's concerned, she's no longer on the university grounds. She's being dragged through white-lit halls by people in lab coats, people in security uniforms. She's wearing scrubs and her wrists are handcuffed, trapped uselessly in front of her. She's trapped in a sprawling maze of labs, a prisoner in a place that most people don't know exists, and Kira is there, somewhere. Alone, without her. Needing her.

She slams a shoulder into the next person she comes in contact with, baring her teeth, and tries to run for it. ]
112ounces: (2 hundred millions guns are loaded)

[personal profile] 112ounces 2015-08-15 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
imPort Displays

[ Carl looks at the displays idly, wondering if maybe he can try to find a job better than just a cashier. Maybe if he can find a job in an imPort's company - surely it would be easier, would it? It's something to chew over, that's for sure.

...although adult locals schmoozing up to him is really annoying. He honestly can't get over how loved and feared imPorts really are, it's really maddening. ]

That's nice. Excuse me.

[ Trying to wiggle himself another awkward proposal. Why can't people let him take the initiative for once? ]


[ A little more relaxed than the exhibition room, there's still a stir of professionalism in the air. Even Carl tries to keep up with the mood. He finally got over himself, embarrassed at his shyness earlier at the exhibit. He really needs to get over himself, Carl thinks, as he takes a drink from his soda. He's so used to be reactive here that he rarely takes a proactive stance. But with his father by his side, he feels comfortable to toe out of his comfort zone, if that makes any sense.

He's sees a person, someone he might recognize, or want to gain their attention, and he comes over. ]

This event seems bigger than last time, isn't it?


Carl would be a lying liar if he said he didn't came for the fireworks. He's seen some fireworks in the Fourth of July, sure, but he didn't came to any actual big, celebrations. He just watched from very afar - the sounds of fireworks from people sounded too close to handguns and it made him a little nervous. But it made him realize he's a big baby, especially with his few private sessions with Crane. (He's incredibly miffed when Crane just went up and disappeared, but he lets it go. He probably went home, and no one can ever control that. )

And the fireworks were amazing up close (or at least as close as you can be). He even felt comfortable in the large crowd, which hardly ever happens. He starts to get up after the show was done, getting ready to leave just like everyone. He hears several more bangs and looks up, his pale face illuminated sickly by the bright greens and yellows. At first, nothing seemed to happen. There's a crawl in the air, a shudder. The air taste familiar, but alien. A reek is happening. He looks around, and he sees other people looking around as well, their nose wrinkling in offense.

And then there's a single scream, piercing the air like a knife to the stomach. The wails of agony came shortly after. Carl looks over, and with his enhanced vision, it's not hard to see find the problem.


An adult walker is pinning down a girl around his age, and it's snapping is jaws, moaning. It's freshly turned, and it still has its former self's strength. Fear coursed through his veins, his worst fears realized: he had brought the virus here, and now people are paying for it. He has known this would have happen, but hope it never would.

Hope is just another wasted word.

Carl doesn't even hesitate. He grabs a metal leg of someone's lawn chair and used his corrosive powers to snap it off and reshape the end of it into a sharp point it. He grabs the walker's hair and pull it away from the girl, and he stabbed it in the eye. He falls over the girl, who is still screaming. But before he could help her, someone grabs his arm, pulling at him. He looks up and he sees not a walker, but a filthy man with filther teeth, giggling, eyes nearly slanted shut in his rictus grin, grabbing at Carl's belt.

Carl bellows a terrified, angry scream and hit the man has hard as he could. The man went down, but Carl kept pummeling the man with the rusted bar as hard as he could, until the final strike is another sharp end sticking into the Marauder's eye, just like the walker earlier.

Two kills after nine months, he thinks idly. He looks around - he sees walkers eating people alive, he sees Marauders just punching and kicking and bending over with knives in their hands and...

He walks away, not aware that the walker and the man he killed are not dead, but instead are among the shrieking and moaning victims of the gas. They grasp at their bloody heads, feeling their wounds by Carl's cruel weapon.

The need for survival is a harsh, unrelenting need, and Carl's greatest fear of all: becoming a mindless monster to survive - is released. ]


[ The homicidal urge of the gas has subsided greatly, but his paranoia and his rage is still frothing inside of him. He hits on the edge of a sidewalk, bloody from head to toe. A firefighter giving him a blanket for comfort.

It doesn't provide him any.

He stares vacantly at the world around him. Someone who is approaching him will be given a cold, hard stare. Even to the people close to him will be given a mute response.

But when given enough incitement . . . well, it will truly be a case of "like father, like son". ]

[ OOC: if you want Carl to see your character as a zombie or one of the marauding survivors that just kill people for kicks, just put it in the subject header. ]
Edited 2015-08-15 16:32 (UTC)
microbrobotics: (under attack)


[personal profile] microbrobotics 2015-08-15 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
A: Import Displays

[ Boy, it's been awhile since Hiro's presented at a real exposition hall. It's kind of nervewracking, in fact, given that the last one he presented at ended explosively ... Needless to say, his microbots are nowhere near the hands of the public (except for the small supply tucked into his toolbot) and he is keeping a very close watch on his project.

But what a fun one it is! He has a slim, electronic map in the middle of his display, with two robot skeletons on either end of it. Small headbands rest on hooks nearby, with a wrist option for those who'd rather gesture than try out neuro-cranial technology. Anyone putting them on will find that they're able to control the little robot skeletons as smoothly as if they were an extension of their own limbs. But that's not the best part. When the mat and the bots are activated, a physical, tactile hologram pops up, creating not only a field for the bots to fight in - a grid over a lava pit, a forest, an abandoned castle - but activates the outside of the bots as well. One of them is squishy and defensive, but doesn't hit very hard; the other is armored and fast and aggressive but can't withstand much damage.

Those pieces are modular, too; there's instructions on how to remove small button-like data projectors making up the holograms, which can be replaced to mix up the bot pieces. Maybe you'll find that some blend of the two extremes is more fun to play with. Hiro himself also stands near by, happy to give a demonstration or just make sure people don't walk off with anything. He doesn't need the transmitters; he can make the bots move all by himself. ]

Pretty sick, huh?

B: Awards / Fear Gas

[ After the expo, with everything involved in that ... the awards ceremony had proven to be a little bit too much for Hiro. Suddenly blinking back tears (and a memory of the fire alarm going off), he'd had to excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment. Find a moment to breathe, to remind himself it's just another expo, that history isn't going to repeat himself ...

That's when the screaming starts. Hiro freezes for a moment, then bolts back out - just in time to see everyone freaking out. His own contact with the gas is minimal due to his timely trip to the bathroom; any lingering gas doesn't have an effect due to the recent mind dive. But he's stlll horrified as he stares out at the other people gathered here, seeing everyone panicked ... When he catches his breath, he'll be bolting out into the crowd to try and help the people he's close to first and foremost. Or anyone else having a hard time. ]
Edited 2015-08-15 14:36 (UTC)