maskormenacelogs | Now you're making me mad

Entry tags:

Now you're making me mad

WHO: Woden and YOU
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Aug 3rd - Aug 9th
WHAT: Woden makin his way downtown
WARNINGS: drug use -- will edit with others

[1. Life's a party]

[ Woden couldn't resist it. The high of power was so much, but Woden -- in all his wisdom, didn't think it was enough. Oh, not the power. That was fine. He could alwyas use more, but for the moement, it was at least something. The power of his own pantheon was enough to make the supposed god go harder than he had before -- foregoing his other committments entirely. Outside committments weren't all that important -- and it was summer, besides! Not showing up at the faculty office was not unexpected, in these dead days before summer ended. And it was still summer, from the young people out on the floor, partying, Woden wasn't precisely opposed to luring them up to his VIP box, where he had private shows, spurred by drugs and loud music -- and where he sat on a throne of his own making, surrounded by women of all stripes -- clearly the preference for aesthetic wasn't exaclty key in this moment.

He leaned down, the metal tube in his helmet extended with a soft, incomprehensible whine around the throbbing bass and heavy beats that thudded around them.

Clearly, he was flying high, and bothering him now would be unfortunate. ]

[2. Paint the town red]

[ No matter the hour, Woden seemed to be anywhere, and everywhere. With the bifröst at his ready disposal, Woden moved between the porter cities, either finding his "new friends", the new pantheon members, or even by himself, Woden rode high on his own power, occasionally stepping in or out randomly, no rhyme or reason.

Sometimes, with open arms, he would port speakers in with him, and the people would gather in small crowds, listening to the music, the simulacrum of godly power that Woden could mimic with his own power, touching the speakers to play deep bass beats that rumbled, or high sirens and music that pierced sharper than any sword, cutting close, and forcing people to the ground, weeping. Small groups, never anything more. Woden only wanted to give them a small taste, before the speakers were gone. Sometimes, he would find his own pantheon members, and give them the musical backup they needed.

This was the time for chaos, after all, and true to his namesake, Woden flitted in and out, randomly finding new trouble to get into. ]

[3. CLOSED TO REAL!PANTHEON]

[ Woden was well aware that it couldn't last. He'd done this for a reason, after all, a reminder that the pantheon could be played with and toyed, that he was a threat that shouldn't just be tossed or forgotten. Really -- he was aware, of course -- that logically just being kept out of the social circle as, well, himself, was natural. That didn't mean that it didn't sting, after everything he'd given up, everything he'd sacrificed specifically for this position. Nobody knew, of course, that the delegitimacy was far more...

Well, Woden couldn't have that. He wouldn't let it stand.

Which was why he hoped to get them out into the open, to take him on like it was supposed to be.

A part of him still feared death, of course. He always had. He wouldn't be left alive, like Inanna, Lucifer, and Tara. He had to be cautious. But here? Here he was an import, he would come back. It was a gamble, of course, but the statistics were in his favor. It made him play faster and looser, to give the pantheon the right amount of motivation to come after him. More than likely, he suspected, they would just capture him. Pantheon justice, or something, and then he'd just... waltz out. After all, a cage that he had made for a god wouldn't hold someone who wasn't a god. Right? Of course. Nothing to worry about.

And if they chanced on him, they would find him, in De Chima, of all places. There was a crowd, he was even postulating, hands behind his back, the heavy beat enough to sway people to listen while he spoke, musical voice on its own speaker, but no power behind it. ]

-- And thus it came to be, that in the late eighteen-hundreds, my predecessor, one of the times that I walked that earth before, she... She gestated with her genius, something... so grand, a vision that I will create yet again -- [ and on, and on he went. It's like he loved the sound of his own voice. ]

[WILDCARD]

[ Feel free to run with anything! If you would like a starter, hit me up wither with PM or

hundreds! ]

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[ This had seemed too easy. After spending days trying to pin down his location—occasionally succeeding only to have Woden escape via bifrost—to find the other god in the middle of a concert was...surprising. And what kind of performance was this anyway? Was Woden's Voice always so easy to comprehend? Didn't they all sing in tongues?? Admittedly, Inanna had never been to any of Woden's shows to find out before now.

All of it together has left Inanna momentarily confused where they've shimmered in off to the side of Woden's makeshift stage, only just remembering to text Cassandra a quick "found W". Luckily, they haven't come alone this time: Baal has always been much quicker to react than Inanna. ]

[ All of this was just so wrong. Even beyond the usual kind of "Woden wrong," at least as Baal ever tended to understand it. Yes, Woden was a twisted motherfucking sonnuvabitch, but Baal had always figured he could be kept in check through their tenuous bond of mutual tolerance. Among other things.

But apparently not.

The moment the two of them appear on Woden's stage, Baal has one hand pressed to the opposite palm, cracking his knuckles in preparation to dive in. Mutual tolerance, history, whatever doesn't mean a damn thing when the person in question has gone this far off the rails; if he'd been prepared to fight Sakhmet, he's certainly not going to shrink away from taking down Woden. There's a crowd, but...

Rather than make a big public scene by storming the stage and dragging Woden off it by his neck, Baal exercises a bit of restraint this time and instead moves a step or two back from Inanna so he can explode out a powerful burst of current, fully intending to blow the lights and the speakers and let Woden know they were there. Time to shut this show down. ]

Then! There was the Woden of the nineteen -- [ It's in the middle of Woden's postulating on his "past lives", the knowledge was perhaps a bit too intimate, a bit too clear, but of course, ever god reacted to their status in their own ways. Some forged alone, others...looked back. Woden, it seemed, wanted to look back, for the first time in his life.

The shock that rang through the speakers, left them with a high whine, and then a pop -- the crash of glass and bursting of lights exploded in a rain over the heads of Woden's new acolytes. Even so, the god's voice was still loud, even without the enhancement from the speakers. ]

And now we have Baal! And his stalwart companion, the Queen of Heaven! [ He spread his arms, as if to invite them. ]

Sick of leaving me to my own devices, my friends?

[ The people around them started to disperse quickly, the high whine from the speakers left them clutching their ears, some weeping from the sound. Others just... quickly moved away, but didn't outright leave. This, after all, was a god-fight.

They looked anticipatory. Hungry. Woden would invite those types. The kinds that liked to watch. ]

[ While Baal steps back, Inanna steps forward to close the distance between themselves and Woden. They can't risk another frustrating escape. There's been enough damage done from this latest extended tantrum of his already, and Inanna's patience for Woden ran out months ago.

They make a scoffing sound, too harsh for their usually silken voice. ]

Friends? What kind of man treats the people he calls friends the way you do?

[ Sparks of starlight begin swirling about their fingertips, but much more attention-getting is the sudden thud of hooves on the other end of the stage. Inanna's celestial bull has swirled into existence, blocking off the most obvious exit, although there's not much it can do against a bifrost escape.

More importantly, it's providing what is hopefully enough distraction time for Inanna to dart forward and get a hand on Woden before he realizes what's happening. If not—well, they always knew this was going to end with a fight. ]

[ It's always strangely exciting whenever Baal gets to see Inanna fight; before all this, back home, it was rare to see Inanna get this worked up, this angry, and while Baal doesn't like that things have brought them to that point, it reminds him to be grateful for the opportunity to get to know them this much more.

To be fighting together, not each other.

Baal follows Inanna's advance, leveling a punch to Woden's helmet once Inanna takes hold of him. He doesn't expect it to crack, but even through the pain it's satisfying nonetheless. He suddenly doesn't care if this fight happens here, happens in front of the hungry crowd with their leering eyes and recording cell phones, although the rational part of him knows it can't stay here.

A couple more hits should be fine, though. Full-strength electric punches. ]

You have no idea what you've done. [ Hit. ] You might think you do, Woden, but you have to know this won't get you anything. It doesn't prove anything. [ Hit. ] A farce like this only makes a joke of what we are. And all we are.

Including you.

[ The punch hits him hard, and Woden stumbled back, his steps inconsistent on the ground, before he shook his head, trying to settle it. It didn't even crack the glass -- so devoted was he to making sure his identity stayed where it was -- that it remained a mystery to all, even the ones that thought they knew. ]

Oh please! I did nothing to you personally, I didn't even take your identities, give anyone your powers! All I did was show what we are, give the world a taste of it, and they've been doing more than any of you could.

[ Woden knows Baal is going to punch him again, it's predictable, because he's mad, and because he likes to punch things -- or so Woden thinks. It's easy to work the god up, Ananke did it all the time. He should be able to do just as much. ]

But don't worry -- [ He says, still with that high-and-mighty tone to his synthesized voice. Somehow, inflection transcends even electronic distortion. ] You don't have to understand what I'm doing, to respect it. Have you fought any of them? I think they could hold their own to any of you.

[ He spread his hands. ] It's a shame none of them are here, to help out. [ He reaches up, very dramatically, to his wrist. ]

[ Whatever Woden's next move is, Inanna isn't allowing him the chance to show it off to the crowd. Bad enough they've had to confront him in public in the first—giving Woden the chance to sound like the victim leaves a foul taste in Inanna's mouth. ]

[ By the time Woden is reaching up for his wrist, Inanna's stardust is swirling and thickening around the trio of gods, preparing to spirit them away to the jail cell Baal had mentioned. They don't have much faith in it to hold Woden, but at least it's away from prying eyes and ears. ]

[ And, just as they fade from view entirely, Inanna has a question asked in icy restraint. ]

Drop the misunderstood victim crap. Where is Dio?

[ Not a lot has been done to this room beyond what Woden himself built for Baal; later, it'll be reinforced with outside tech as well as magic to make sure that none of them, not even Woden, can break this room or break out of this room, but it was completed too recently to have made such adjustments yet. Baal had figured it'll be beneficial to have a secret room like this, as a sturdy, private place to blow off steam, or as a place to throw any of them into should things go horribly awry; it's reasonably spacious, reinforced and soundproof, and it can nullify powers, although it doesn't by default. Most importantly, it's silent, strong, and it's private. That's all they need right now.

And so, here they are. They can worry about how they're going to hold Woden after they're done with him. ]

What you did to them is not what we are. How the hell can you think that?

[ Not knowing who Woden is yet makes that a galling claim to Baal; the implication that they're all just delusional fakes like the poor people he's brainwashed. Static currents buzz of Baal in angry waves as he grabs Woden again by the shoulders, hoping to short something out in that damn suit of his. ]

Answer Inanna's question. Where is Dionysus, Woden?

A cage built for a god!

[ Woden announced, laughing. His arms spread, as if he were truly trapped in here, he fixed his gaze on the pair, silently watching them. He wondered if they knew where Dionysus had last been, if there was any indication, if the pieces were being pieced together as they spoke.

If anyone had the brains for this, it would be Cassandra, but she so often would simply overlook the signs, because she thought she knew. She knew who Jon Blake was, and therefore, David Blake was simply...nobody to worry about. That couldn't have changed.

He slumped slightly, in the cage, almost belligerent, as if his hands were in his pockets, shrunk in on himself. ]

That's an excellent question! I haven't heard from him in ages, although, wasn't it you who told me to stay away, Inanna? I'm still curious, what is it I did?

[ As if he hadn't been captured for making false gods, as if he hadn't been taken from his own audience. ]

[ Inanna takes a step back, giving Baal more room to get up close and personal with Woden. They can't remember the last time...well, no. They can remember the last time they'd been this angry, and they'd prefer not to be close enough to put the feeling into action again. Not unless they absolutely had to.

They tilt their head, looking down on Woden with an icy expression. ]

You don't get to ask questions now. And I'm not going to accept this innocent act. We all know it's fake, Woden.

One more chance: Where. Is. Dio?

[ Apep has plans.

Which is to say that, after he meets with his newfound benefactor, he intends to paint the town black as night and dark as water. He climbs the steps to the VIP box, his own cloak swirling behind him, listening to the gaggle of women surrounding his liege and the vibration of the bass and drums that hum against his ears.

Serpentine eyes fix upon the women as he stands before Woden's throne. And he dares to disturb him. ]

Leave us.

[ It is an order, infectious, squirming from mortal to mortal until one by one they flit away like so many insignificant moths. Leaving he and Woden alone. ]

Woden.

Edited 2018-08-10 16:24 (UTC)

[ Woden watched the women go, his head didn't tip or turn, but he followed their procession out with his eyes, something Apep couldn't see, thankfully. He didn't need to see the disappointment that showed on his face, left with only the reflective glass to stare back at him, the spiral of lights left patterns bouncing to the ground and ceiling.

He leaned back, arms stretched across the back of the couch, and he crossed an ankle over his knee, the picture of casual. ]

Apep! [ His tone was high, chiding, but the pronunciation was perfect. ]

So eager to talk, are you?

I am. I wished to thank you, and to let you know of my plans.

[ He kneels on one knee, keeping pressure off this vessel's injured leg. Staring up at him with serpentine eyes. ]

I have to thank you for releasing me from my shackles. For unburdening all the power that this demigod of chaos could unleash.

[ Woden's head remained tipped up, slightly, silent, as he watched the god in front of him. "God", of course. He didn't have the power to make them true, like Ananke did, but he'd never had any of the power, anyway.

This was as close as one could get, to having the power that the gods had. Even Woden wasn't this close, he could only mock, and mimic, but here he could create in a way that his own...genius could not. But Woden knows better to dwell on those that rest back home, in his own boy's face trapped in a mask. No, this was better. ]

And well you should. [ He proclaimed, a hand waved dismissively, as if it were nothing. ] I picked those that were the most worthy of such power. I trusted you would bring such chaos.

[ He didn't, but Woden could pretend. This one, he suspected, was going to go far, and he was not disappointed by his choice. ]

[ Here, it's as true as if he were Anake himself. His powers amplified, strengthened, it is akin to David having reached true godhood back home. And with Apep at the reigns, well...

There was no better god of Chaos. ]

A shame, that you had to bring Set into the same pantheon. Although I imagine that this vessel being Sutekh's son might grant some form of clemency.

[ He shrugs, stands, and dares to approach. ]

You should be out of the city by midnight, my liege.

[ Sutekh's Son. Woden didn't lean forward, but behind the mask, David Blake's face stretched into a wide, wide grin. This was even more perfect than he'd even hoped, and with a wave of his hand, he gestured toward the couch, as if to offer a seat.

Because gods help him, but he couldn't believe his fucking luck. ]

Should I? This is one of my favorite places. [ He paused, and his helmet tipped, a spiral of dazzling lights passed across David's -- Apep's face, and Woden moved his head a bit more, to give him the courtesy of not keeping it in his eyes. ]

What sort of chaos have you decided to bring on this world?

I’ll try to let it stand, then. But there are no guarantees.

[ Apep takes a seat beside the man. An equal upon the throne, tall and regal as the multicolored lights flash across his face. He folds his legs so One is on the other, clasps his hands together. Attentive. Listening. ]

I will be blacking out the city and destroying the canals. Flood and darkness. As the world was before it was born, to be created again.

[ Woden had been hoping for chaos. He suspected that far too many of his choices may or may not be interested in doing what he wanted.

But then there was this David Klein. The sonof Set, apparently. A more true heir than he'd ever chosen, and Woden relaxed against the couch, his helmet tipped, watching. He couldn't help it, he laughed, and it wasn't the sound effect this time, it was a synthesized laugh that was low and delighted. ]

Well! I'm impressed, you know. I didn't expect you to run with this so well.

This vessel was born for chaos. It merely took the right push to unleash its full potential- becoming Apep.

[ After all, David had had some of his chaotic abilities since he was young. It was in his blood. Destruction and disorder cane to him so easily, which is why he so often his behind a mask of his own. One carefully crafted, calculated, calm. But one meant to hide the worst of his temperments, his anger and despair.

Ragnarok has been a step in the right direction. Seeking it had been a trifle more difficult. And the tenuous thread on his humanity had been strengthened and rewound by one Chauncy Anderson and one Takara Hurst. But neither is here. Not at the moment. And he won’t make the same mistake again. ]

And I have you to thank for that, my liege. You have my full gratitude for pushing this vessel into proper godhood.

Do I?

[ Woden relaxed against the couch again, there was still time until midnight, after all. He wanted to get his fill, before he slipped through his bifröst and back to his home, where nobody would find him. Rest, perhaps, although with all the uppers he'd been taking, it's not likely that he'll sleep.

Which is for the best. Something like this required constant wakefulness. ]

And I appreciate you telling me of your plans. I can't wait to see all the chaos you create. It's... exhilarating, you know.

You do. Unless you wish a more concrete expression of my gratitude.

[ Apep smirks as he leans back slightly in his chair, looking to the door as he debates ordering a glass of whiskey. A shame, that he sent all those mere mortals away. If there was one thing they were good for, it was serving. ]

It is thrilling, to have this destiny completed. It was only a matter of time, after all, becoming Apep. It happened back home, it happened here. And you assured the path.

[ Eventually, Woden suspected, that all of this would come to an end. Eventually, his source of power would be found, and then these gods would die as quickly as they arrived. For now, he had Apep under his fingers, but more importantly, Apep had given him a great deal of information about himself.

About David Klein.

And he'd given it to the entirely wrong person. ]

The irony isn't lost on me, but it's just as well, that I can serve you, in bringing your destiny to fruition.

Will you only sow chaos? Or is there a greater plan, for the snake?

It is the belief of my pantheon that chaos is necessary for growth. That it is a cycle.

[ He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing curls back and away from the bronze serpent that wraps around his head. ]

I sow chaos, so others may reap the growth. That is my role.

Mm, yes.

[ Woden said, with another wave of his hand. He always seemed to do that, talk with his hands. Was it because of his mask, which obscured himself from the rest of the world? It certainly meant he could at least be understood, without inflection, tone, or facial expression. ]

Any consumption of souls in your grand plan? Or have I created an Apep in the purest form of his ideal?

Purest form. Mortal vessel, mortal rules. Souls don't exactly count as sustenance.

[ The serpent looks to the door again, then speaks. ]

And speaking of- I think a drink is in order, to toast to our future success.

Edited 2018-08-16 18:47 (UTC)

Oh, that sounds appropriate.

[ Or rather, one for Klein. Woden didn't drink, in this helmet. Cocaine, yes, but otherwise, he didn't keep the attachments for a reason. It ruined the look, to show such human needs, and Woden loved the air of mystery that his helmet and his general presence created. It kept him so separate, so distant from everyone else.

He lazily lifted a hand, and gestured, before a bifröst opened up, and an attendant wandered through. ]

Drinks are always in order, why don't you give her yours?

[ Apep raises a brow as the attendant stumbles through the bifrost. If anything, he has to admit it's an impressive power. Something to note should the sun-eater ever need to turn against the man who assured his ascension and fulfillment of his destiny.

And there is no doubt that there will come a time.

Which is why he is manipulating him now. Praising him. Stroking his ego. Making himself seem so subservient and thankful. It's the long game. All his cunning, clever tricks hidden up his sleeves.

He is an asp, a viper. Not a cobra. He will not give warning before he strikes. ]

Whiskey. Neat.

Excellent, off you go, darling. Nothing for me.

[ Woden watched her, very obviously, when she turned to leave, his helmet turned the direction of her backside, before he finally turned back to Apep, and gestured at his helmet. ]

Alas, I'm locked away from the rest of the world like this. The sacrifices some make for power are... [ A beat. ] High.

A pity. Although I’m afraid I cannot relate.

[ He smirks, tilting his head. ]

Unlike the rest of this pantheon, I was born for this.

Quite so.

[ Woden laughed. ] For us, it's... different. Ananke awakens us, but we've...always been there.

[ Well, Woden didn't know this for certain, but he could bullshit with the rest of them. He was, after all, a professor, and the Ivory Tower was built on nothing but. ]

We're born for it, but in a different way. I was... My awakening was violent. Inherent in who I am, I suppose.

[ And yet compared to the rest of the pantheon, he had his abilities from the start. From the moment he could walk, there had been chaos in his blood. Just a spark, at first. Occasionally billowing into flame. Manifesting like a telepathic storm, smashing glasses and scattering papers, his pitiful childhood wails causing so much damage.

It is why David had grown to be who he was. Why he had suppressed all emotion. Why so few could draw anything- love, or hate, or fear- from him.

And Apep? Apep was David freed. No longer concerned of the chaos he caused around him with every step. Even now, downstairs, he's sure that the people have erupted into all out war from his mere presence alone. ]

And my awakening was with blood and tears. We are not so different, you and I.

[ He tilts his head back and smiles. A challenge. ]

[ God, there are probably so many cameras here.

It took some effort, but divining for Dionysus' location was something that needed to be done- there's not hearing from him, and there's not hearing from him in the middle of this bullshit. At first she'd tried to tell herself she was just getting paranoid. But once she put together that these "gods" were brainwashed, and how Woden had used Dio before- there were few other explanations, although it made her sick to think about. Of course Woden would repeat the plan he believes he never got to pull off. How could she have been such an idiot?

By the time she arrives at the warehouse she's running on little sleep and a deep sense of terror, and for once she's got her powers on full display, hands glowing with energy. She knows Dio has to be here, but looking at the equipment she finds here- a familiar Sleipnir robot from the Wild Hunt has caught her eye- it's not immediately obvious where he could be. ]

Dio...? [ She calls out, feeling bad that her voice shakes more than it should. ] Are you here?

[Unfortunately, while he is there, he doesn't answer. Can't answer.

He's been told to be quiet. Stay awake, stay awake, don't escape. The only things he thinks about while in a small side room to Woden's warehouse. In the back, where the music booms it's loudest. The vibration thrums throughout the empty space, a twisted mimicry of how Dionysus' raves usually go.

Follow the music, Cassandra.]

[ She only hesitates for a moment; following the sound is an obvious choice. There's few other things to look at in this place, let alone things she wants to see.

She knows it's going to hurt. She may not have felt Dio's powers for long, but she remembers how it felt, and she knows that the noise she hears now is fundamentally wrong. The kind of thing that would make most people want to turn and run.

That's never been her, though.

She's cringing at the noise when she reaches the door to the side room and shoves it open, but she's not hesitating. ] Dio?

[The room is full of color, but she can't see it. She isn't part of it. The color's elsewhere too, fueling other people.

Draining from him.

He's in there. Sitting down in a chair, hunched as his elbows lean on his knees. Fingers laced together, as he stares at a wall. His eyes are black, like he's using his powers, but he's otherwise unmoving. Doesn't even react to Cassandra entering the room. He looks like he hasn't slept or eaten in a week- but do Gods need to? Or is it just for comfort? Do the nanites inside of them that heal their injuries, heal starvation too?

Either way, he's still alive. Even if he looks like he shouldn't be.]

[ For a moment, this doesn't look that bad. Alive is good. Sitting up, even, is good. She was starting to expect worse, to find him scratched up or beaten bloody.

(It's not as if she doesn't remember what happened to him the last time Woden used him this way.)

But that feeling quickly gives way to a sense of dread; in other ways, this is even worse than she could have anticipated. Not just because he looks like shit, but because there's only one way Woden could have gotten him sitting here, willingly, waiting. And she knows how ingrained Woden's brainwashing can be. She's been dealing with it all week.

Despite all that flooding her mind, she doesn't let herself hesitate. She rushes in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. She has to raise her voice, even more than usual, over the overwhelming sound of the speakers. ] Dio- hey, look at me! It's me! Woden's not here! [ Worried about the blank stare he has, she waves a hand in front of his face. ] Say something. C'mon.

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Now you're making me mad

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1 - August 3rd, before the blackout.

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meanwhile in woden's creepy warehouse

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