ＲＥＧＧＩＥ⭐️ＭＡＮＴＬＥ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bragnificent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2018-06-20 11:57 pm
bragnificent) wrote in maskormenacelogs2018-06-20 11:57 pm
Entry tags:
- haru okumura | noir,
- proinsias cassidy | n/a,
- ronan lynch | greywaren,
- † cassandra igarashi | n/a,
- † eikichi mishina | yellow owl,
- † herr starr | n/a,
- † jughead jones | n/a,
- † karolina dean | n/a,
- † matthew lynch | n/a,
- † n/a | baphomet,
- † n/a | dionysus,
- † nico minoru | n/a,
- † reggie mantle | n/a,
- † ryūji sakamoto | skull,
- † tate langdon | the rubber man,
- † veronica sawyer | dead girl walking
I feel it in my blood, in the fire and the flood
WHO: BAPHOMET, HIS ENTOURAGE (REGGIE MANTLE & NICO MINORU), and YOU.
WHERE: Maurtia Falls, in the woods.
WHEN: June 21st
WHAT: Baphomet's concert debut!
WARNINGS: Possible drinking, drug use, fire hazards, and/or Wicked + the Divine spoilers; anything else, please mark your threads as necessary!
Although promoted across all four cities -- mostly via ominous posters and graffiti displaying a simple symbol and the date, June 21st -- directions to the concert are a little more obscure to come by, although those who want to find it will find their way. Part of it is via word-of-mouth, yes, but there's also a sort of... strange draw in the air, one that will just instinctively guide those who truly belong at the show, or are at least open to hearing it.
But however they find their way, it becomes much more obvious the closer you get. Reach a particular Maurtia Falls forest and one might start to notice that same symbol painted on some of the trees and nearby power poles, accompanied by arrows guiding attendees deeper into the woods.
The destination itself is obvious once you arrive to it: a large clearing in the woods, illuminated by a number of eerie floating red and gold lanterns and (what would appear to be) faerie lights. There is fog and, somehow, a cloak of dusk surrounding the area even before the sun really begins to set, and the ground is dark and illuminated by cuts of flame as if there were just a fire here. Visual effects courtesy of Nico Minoru's magic, no doubt. There's streaks of red paint smeared across several trees, the ground, and the props meant to look like blood, too, but it's probably not actually. One thing is for sure, which is that from a distance, from the outside looking in, it will certainly look as if there's a fire blazing within the woods the entire night.
The stage itself is made of wood and metal, elevated just a bit from the ground so it gives off the appearance as a dilapidated bridge, splintered and rusted, and is backed with black and orange curtains. Far from the stage is a merchandise table, which includes black t-shirts sporting Baphomet's insignia in white or red, as well as posters of the same design (some of which include also Baphomet's name, or flaming eyes below the symbol), various takes on the goat-skull, blades, and spikes theme via metal rings and necklaces, a Goatman plushie with burning red eyes, and then finally, shirts and encouraged donations promoting Linda Belcher's Lind-a-Care foundation. On the opposite side of the stage is a broad table with refreshments, sporting an enormous golden claw-footed punch bowl in the center which compartments a few different varieties of red-colored drinks (which Reggie Mantle will be happy to spike alcoholically, using his powers, should anyone want or ask) within itself, BAPHOMEAT (lamb kebabs), a broad spread of sandwich fixings and bread, elaborate fruit-and-cheese plates, a selection of fireball whisky, and of course, bottles of water.
Once it begins to get dark, the sun setting in earnest now... let the show begin.
( For a more individualized read on your character's reactions to Baphomet's godsong, please comment to THIS. )
The solstice sun burns low in the sky, descending quickly as dusk chases it, as stars speckle a darkening sky, when those red circles materialize. They glow into being in the field before the stage, neon yet ethereal, inviting yet taunting. And that metal stage-- there's a shimmer, like the atmosphere is melting. The stage becomes the opening to a cave, the audience situated in the "cave". You're in the cave, a lion in its lair. The outline of a neon red door appears, and you can feel the warmth from it on your face. It's like the hot high noon sun, it's like rage and war. It gets into your blood, this heat.
Baphomet steps through the door, onto the raise of stone that remained reminiscent of a performance stage. He raises both his arms above his head. He points to you, index finger out and thumb up.
One,
three,
The sound pours out of his mouth and it burns. You feel it under your skin, you feel it spreading -- infectious, you know it's viral. You know it is contagion. He screams a riot, incomprehensible yet intimate, he roars for you. He sings every surrender you've regretted, he sings your fists ripping at your own chains, of your searing and bloodied triumph. His eyes are catlike slits, his fangs displayed in predatory snarl.
Your veins glow with inspired revolution. You can break free, you can escape a hell of your own making. You can become your own plague, and lay waste those who would ever again hurt you.
⬤ ⬤ ⬤
It's also one of Baphomet's talents, to create what he calls image golems. They are illusions, mirages, a plague set upon your heart and your mind. They aren't real, but they seem real, they'll talk to you and react and provoke. Sometimes they give to chase. You may see it lurking, its blinkless stare looking back at you through thinning foliage. You may hear the twigs snap beneath its hooves. He will beckon to you, his all-too-human hand nearly normal, with only some fingers seemingly melded together. He walks with mostly a man's body, but he wears the head of a goat. Welcome to the sideshow.
If you approach him, he will speak with a voice familiar to you. The voice of someone not here, someone back home. Someone you miss. Everyone within earshot will hear.
"It's been too long. I miss you."
Something along those lines come out of his mouth.
And then he'll flee. You can either:
A. Give chase to him, catch him, and NPC him from there.
B. Take comfort in your company, who would have also heard a love one from the goatman's tongue.
C. Give chase to him, catch him, and kill him. An image golem of his nature will not hurt you. He will but dissolve.
WHERE: Maurtia Falls, in the woods.
WHEN: June 21st
WHAT: Baphomet's concert debut!
WARNINGS: Possible drinking, drug use, fire hazards, and/or Wicked + the Divine spoilers; anything else, please mark your threads as necessary!
Although promoted across all four cities -- mostly via ominous posters and graffiti displaying a simple symbol and the date, June 21st -- directions to the concert are a little more obscure to come by, although those who want to find it will find their way. Part of it is via word-of-mouth, yes, but there's also a sort of... strange draw in the air, one that will just instinctively guide those who truly belong at the show, or are at least open to hearing it.
But however they find their way, it becomes much more obvious the closer you get. Reach a particular Maurtia Falls forest and one might start to notice that same symbol painted on some of the trees and nearby power poles, accompanied by arrows guiding attendees deeper into the woods.
The destination itself is obvious once you arrive to it: a large clearing in the woods, illuminated by a number of eerie floating red and gold lanterns and (what would appear to be) faerie lights. There is fog and, somehow, a cloak of dusk surrounding the area even before the sun really begins to set, and the ground is dark and illuminated by cuts of flame as if there were just a fire here. Visual effects courtesy of Nico Minoru's magic, no doubt. There's streaks of red paint smeared across several trees, the ground, and the props meant to look like blood, too, but it's probably not actually. One thing is for sure, which is that from a distance, from the outside looking in, it will certainly look as if there's a fire blazing within the woods the entire night.
The stage itself is made of wood and metal, elevated just a bit from the ground so it gives off the appearance as a dilapidated bridge, splintered and rusted, and is backed with black and orange curtains. Far from the stage is a merchandise table, which includes black t-shirts sporting Baphomet's insignia in white or red, as well as posters of the same design (some of which include also Baphomet's name, or flaming eyes below the symbol), various takes on the goat-skull, blades, and spikes theme via metal rings and necklaces, a Goatman plushie with burning red eyes, and then finally, shirts and encouraged donations promoting Linda Belcher's Lind-a-Care foundation. On the opposite side of the stage is a broad table with refreshments, sporting an enormous golden claw-footed punch bowl in the center which compartments a few different varieties of red-colored drinks (which Reggie Mantle will be happy to spike alcoholically, using his powers, should anyone want or ask) within itself, BAPHOMEAT (lamb kebabs), a broad spread of sandwich fixings and bread, elaborate fruit-and-cheese plates, a selection of fireball whisky, and of course, bottles of water.
Once it begins to get dark, the sun setting in earnest now... let the show begin.
( For a more individualized read on your character's reactions to Baphomet's godsong, please comment to THIS. )
The solstice sun burns low in the sky, descending quickly as dusk chases it, as stars speckle a darkening sky, when those red circles materialize. They glow into being in the field before the stage, neon yet ethereal, inviting yet taunting. And that metal stage-- there's a shimmer, like the atmosphere is melting. The stage becomes the opening to a cave, the audience situated in the "cave". You're in the cave, a lion in its lair. The outline of a neon red door appears, and you can feel the warmth from it on your face. It's like the hot high noon sun, it's like rage and war. It gets into your blood, this heat.
Baphomet steps through the door, onto the raise of stone that remained reminiscent of a performance stage. He raises both his arms above his head. He points to you, index finger out and thumb up.
One,
two,
four.
The sound pours out of his mouth and it burns. You feel it under your skin, you feel it spreading -- infectious, you know it's viral. You know it is contagion. He screams a riot, incomprehensible yet intimate, he roars for you. He sings every surrender you've regretted, he sings your fists ripping at your own chains, of your searing and bloodied triumph. His eyes are catlike slits, his fangs displayed in predatory snarl.
Your veins glow with inspired revolution. You can break free, you can escape a hell of your own making. You can become your own plague, and lay waste those who would ever again hurt you.
It's also one of Baphomet's talents, to create what he calls image golems. They are illusions, mirages, a plague set upon your heart and your mind. They aren't real, but they seem real, they'll talk to you and react and provoke. Sometimes they give to chase. You may see it lurking, its blinkless stare looking back at you through thinning foliage. You may hear the twigs snap beneath its hooves. He will beckon to you, his all-too-human hand nearly normal, with only some fingers seemingly melded together. He walks with mostly a man's body, but he wears the head of a goat. Welcome to the sideshow.
If you approach him, he will speak with a voice familiar to you. The voice of someone not here, someone back home. Someone you miss. Everyone within earshot will hear.
"It's been too long. I miss you."
Something along those lines come out of his mouth.
And then he'll flee. You can either:
A. Give chase to him, catch him, and NPC him from there.
B. Take comfort in your company, who would have also heard a love one from the goatman's tongue.
C. Give chase to him, catch him, and kill him. An image golem of his nature will not hurt you. He will but dissolve.
post-show
[Veronica looks and sounds exhausted—makeup smudged, hat missing, clothes shabbier than usual. At least one necklace has gone missing from around her neck, which, yeah, this is the last time she's wearing a Madonna outfit to a concert put on by one of the Pantheon. She does look satisfied, though—the adrenaline rush had been pretty good.
The clean-up's going on around them, apparently. Veronica glances around, then starts rolling up some of the mats herself, for those people who had passed out because of the godsong. Persephone is a hurricane, a storm that can't quite be contained, and Baphomet is a riot's seething rage and revolution and revenge. Forces of nature, she thinks, bound up somehow in people.]
You weren't kidding. That was—
[She stops. Huffs out a breath.]
That was a lot.
no subject
He's still feeling it from before, that lively sting of venom that burns around the edges of his fatigue and eats at it slowly. He's exhausted, but also feels like he might never need to sleep again.
Without answering her question yet, Reggie offers her a stick of gum, popping a fresh one into his mouth after he takes a swig from his cranberry-vodka drink. ]
Nope. But it'll turn up. [ Probably. If it didn't burn up, blow away or get stolen. ] How do you feel?
no subject
Like an aftershock, she thinks. The main event's over, but there's still something left behind, something on the edge of divinity.
She takes the gum. Waste of good gum anyway, if she turned it down.]
Like—
[Like I was down in the boiler room with a boy I loved fighting with him for the fate of my school.]
It's hard to explain, but—you know how when you're coming out of the movie theatre after you saw this big twist in a movie, and everything just feels different for a couple of hours? [She tears off a piece of gum with her teeth.] Like that, but so much more.
no subject
He looks at her, wondering how she could possibly be as good as she is at understanding things in ways he can understand, too. They don't really think the same, not at all, but Reggie's always felt some kind of unspoken mutual connection between them even when they bicker, even when they never talk about anything real. It's weird. ]
Life-changing. Yeah. [ He looks away, dropping his gaze to his pack of gum as he peels out another piece. ] I guess it is pretty hard to explain. But all that matters is that it rocked.
no subject
She looks back, and a corner of her mouth quirks upward.]
Life-changing's a good word for it too, I guess. [She chews thoughtfully.] Although honestly, the life-size goatman was a little too on-the-nose.
no subject
[ Because the feeling is always familiar, that's half of why it's so powerful; it's more like an enlightening than a change.
He bites the corner of his lip, shrugging his shoulders as he sits himself on the hood of his car, gaze drifting between her and the deeply dark night sky. ]
I don't think so. As far as I know they don't even have that legend in the UK, so I thought it was a nice touch. Aside from... [ Well. ] Did you hear something weird?
no subject
And it takes a while for that thing to go back to sleep. If it ever does.
[She wants it to go back to sleep, whatever this thing these shows awaken is. But at the same time, it's like—everything's in Technicolor, and when that thing goes back to sleep, the greys seep back in. She sighs and perches next to him, tilting her head up towards the night sky, one hand resting back on the hood.
She doesn't look at him when she answers:] Yeah, someone I was friends with. You?
no subject
[ It's a high Reggie enjoys quite a bit, an addictive one whether he's chasing it from Baphomet or Persephone, but also generally a properly high high-- pure and vitalizing, with only uneasy shadows hovering around the edges of his vision rather than any true lows, or even middles. Reggie is almost the target audience for either god but not quite, putting him in a mostly warmly thrilling and pleasantly dangerous position when it comes to effect.
Never has he come close to a "bad trip" hearing one of them; not yet, at least.
There's a question on his lips he comes very close to asking her, one that he's wanted to ask for about a month or so now but keeps finding reasons to talk himself out of or delay it. What stops him this time is the question she asks him. ]
Yeah. [ To put it mildly. He almost leaves it at that, casually wrapping an arm over her shoulders. ] You remember Archie, right?
no subject
Her eyes grow wide for a moment, and she looks at him now with sympathy in her eyes, the kind that comes with having lost that very same person too.]
Of course, he was my friend. [It's easier now to say he was my friend, easier to attach the past tense to Archie. Time does that, time and loss of others. It gets easier to do, and one day she wonders if she'll switch seamlessly from present to past tense. It's not a day she's looking forward to.] You heard him?
no subject
He hates that look in her eyes, just then-- Reggie has to look away, ready to reject anything that might come out of Veronica's mouth sounding like pity. ]
Yep. [ More than a friend, even, which he wonders is the case with the voice Veronica heard as well. ] I don't think it really means anything... maybe it's just like, y'know-- closure?