Omens

[Kimmy]

Through the weyr Haelys walked, basket dangling from her arm for a shopping trip. As she stepped through the mismatched village with its variety of structures and creatures, she passed beneath a ladder. The man nailing up his new business sign ("Puppy Yoga") grumpily remarked on the woman's choice of path. She did not understand his concern, of course.

As she ventured into one of the main streets, she had to halt for a moment so that a black Celeste Cat could pass. She looked annoyed, naturally, but the fact that she stopped for it said a lot about her adapting etiquette on Planet. Some fruits and vegetables were purchased and placed in her basket. She then entered an herb shop for some extra flavor.

"Oops!" A young lady with tentacles exclaimed as some rounded winged contraption (Umbrella. It was an umbrella.) popped open inside the shop. Haelys jumped back, unsure of it was alive or not, and the back end of her basket smashed into a small mirror on the wall, cracking it. Well, that clearly wasn't her fault.

Eventually, Haelys settled at a wooden table outside the inn she was still begrudgingly staying at. She sprinkled pink salt onto her slice of rainbow tomato. As she reached down to pinch more salt out of the container, one of her obnoxiously large rings caught the edge and tipped it over. Her salt spilled everywhere. If the woman was stronger, she would have flipped the table in anger.

Signs came in all sorts of forms, often without ever noticing them. Some were good, some were bad, others mysterious in their nature. Whazzit had a tendency of collecting all it could from other worlds and you never knew what would pop up where on any given day...

---

Bonds
Demonhound Ember Little Brother -- Crow
Demonhound Flash Morpho -- Zenith
Demonhound Pyre Selene -- Zirah
Demonhound Altar Abbi -- Zebey

Event Bonds
Firelizard Blizzard Hannah -- Alice Noe
Firelizard Tremor Hinode -- Cyprena Sevenius

[Kimmy]

Welcome to Speed'Hounds! Due to the abbreviated time frame, each character will experience this individually rather than in one singular gathering place (or time, even!). However, if a couple characters want to pair up and start in the same spot, that is also fine with me!

Participants: Alice Noe, Crow, Cyprena Sevenius, Zebey, Zenith, Zirah
(Note: Please only one character per person unless less than 4 people join in the first 3 days, then bring 'em in. Well that escalated fast.)

Your First Post: Have your character encounter a bad omen (or multiple, if you desire) of any sort. This omen can be completely made up, unique to your character's origins, taken from other cultures, anything goes! They can be in any location on Planet, doing any activity. They can recognize the omen as a bad sign or have no idea what it means—either way!
I will say that if you want to amplify the creepiness for your character's experience, you might consider starting them in a more ominous environment, such as at night or in an unfamiliar setting. However, I will happily work with characters in broad daylight, in public, at home, etc.
Basically, this is anything goes and it will be what you make it in terms of environment.
Oh! And shinies are welcome to be involved!

Schedule: This bonding began on Sunday, June 21 and will end on Saturday, June 27 per speedbonding rules. I will reply as often as my work schedule allows.

Prefs: If you have preferences, let me know in any format that works for you (a list, a yes-please/no-thank-you, a question mark). If you want a surprise, no need to contact me.

---

The Demonhounds

Shooting Star Ember
This 'Hound was crafted with many parts enthusiasm, but somebody forgot to add the spice called intellect. While he is not completely daft, he usually cannot comprehend what his bonded or other chosen companions desire enough to successfully fulfill them, but you have to give him points for trying. If he thinks you want a new friend, he will bring you a live rat. If he thinks you are hungry, he will bring you raw meat. Sometimes his response may be beneficial, if only by accident. He is also blindly loyal and will never question what he is asked to do or why his friends want it. So if you need a simple enough task done, you can count on him to never hesitate at your request. While he loves being around his bonded, he will gladly go find someone else to hang out with if shooed away.

He may be on the smaller side, but he is FAST. Defined muscles sit over his otherwise light frame, easily appreciated beneath his short, midnight blue coat. His tail is medium in length, but thick and rather painful when it beats you with excitement. His only marking is a big, round splotch of light grey in the center of his belly, best admired when he flips over onto his back for rubs. His eyes are a similar grey, although they have a special sparkle to them, especially at night. Stiff triangular ears fold down neatly next to his head. Pale lavender-grey completely covers his wings.

Butterfly in your Home Flash
This thoughtful boy is very much a (butter)fly on the wall, preferring to observe than to jump in on any action. This isn't to say he does not do things for his bonded—much the opposite, in fact! His kind deeds are easily overlooked, for they are either subtle or occur out of the spotlight. He is the type to place something you enjoy near your bedside or to lay under the leak in your roof so it soaks into his fur instead of your valuables. Not complex enough to ever feel taken for granted, he will continue quietly giving to those he is loyal to without any expectations. Resting in the vicinity of his family (close, but not too close) is his preferred placed. However, if you treat him well, he could easily be coaxed into some cuddles.

A small, lithe frame is covered in thin but long white fur that flows with movement or a breeze. Light brown runs down his spine in a thin, defined line, tapering away at the back of his neck, but continuing through the tip of his long tail. Nearly symmetrical spots of the same light brown run down the outside of each leg in a line, ending with a paw seemingly dipped. The wispy edges of his long tail hair also contain a horizontal row of brown spots at the tips. The base of his wings begin with a very pale blue, rising into a richer sky blue at the top. Very thin strips of light brown trace the natural veins of his leathery wings. His ears are medium-sized and pointy at the tips with the bottom half flopping out to the sides. Calm and curious rich yellow eyes peer out from his boney helmet.

Dolphins with a Ship Pyre
If an adventure buddy is what you seek, look no further. No matter what dangers you trudge through, this girl will never hesitate to stay by your side. Seemingly fearless, her drive to be your rock quells any of her nerves. For how sweet her species is overall, she can be protective and even aggressive if she feels the need. However, with those she deems her charges, she is as loveable as they come and will force herself to stay put for a few minutes if you need comfort. Of course, she also has a mind of her own, and will often beckon you or attempt to lure you into adventures if she sees the opportunity or is simply craving to get out of the house. Weaker or smaller creatures can be trusted with her, for she is a true protector at heart. Left on her own, however, she is more of a daredevil and cares less for her own safety.

Large, big-boned, and rather lanky, one might mistake her for a big teddy bear until they see her in action. Her body is built for endurance and long strides. She does not lack in strength, but she is also no tank. Naturally athletic, she is good at flying, climbing, swimming, and jumping. Her medium-length coat is wavy and a little messy, covered entirely in a pleasant grey-blue. The fur around her neck, legs, and tail is a bit darker than the rest of her, fading into a deeper shade of the same color. On the other hand, the fur on her underside is a few shades lighter. Fuzzy ears flop at the sides of her head. Her wings are a brilliant plum color, darkening at the edges. Bright turquoise eyes are quite noticeable from within the skull covering her head.

Marriage of the Rain and Sun Altar
Strength comes in many forms. In this case, her ability to pick up on the emotions around her makes her an excellent confidante that you don't even need to explain yourself to! She will let you wallow in your sadness or stomp around in anger for a while, and she has a tendency to adapt her behaviors to suit your mood (she will sulk with you or growl at those angering you). But, eventually, she will feel that the time is right to step up and gently encourage her bonded out of their negative feelings and towards something brighter. With her deep sentiments comes an intense bond with her chosen and she is ultimately loyal to them only. Left to her own devices, she is quite a cheery, friendly girl and appreciates tasty snacks and good scratches.

Sunny legs rise up into a seafoam belly and chest. Cloudy mint consumes her back, dripping down her sides and neck in tiny streams that eventually taper off, with some of them leaving shapes that resemble droplets at the tips. She is an average size and medium build with a short, soft coat. Her fuzzy tail curves up, around, and ends up pointing towards her head. Her ears are tall and erect with sharp edges while her wings are entirely seafoam green. Mint mixes with seafoam in her eyes, richer in the sun and duller on cloudy days.

[Zebey]

It was night. Two moons hung in the sky, shedding soft light across the village and through the trees. Zebey preferred the night as it was easier on her eyes- drow were built for life in caves, after all. She was walking down empty paths, making mental note of buildings and shops as she passed them. Trying to learn the lay of the village before coming here during the day- it was an old habit picked up where you always needed to know where an escape route was. Old habits die hard, after all.

And who was to say Whazzit wasn't without its dangers?

She turned onto another street that led her to the edge of the village, where cobblestone gave way to rough dirt trails and buildings sparsed as trees overcame the landscape. She hadn't noticed this exit before, so she turned to survey the village from here, further mapping its layout on her mind. She hadn't been followed today- Kamalah was insistent on accompanying her, as "you never know when you could run into a friend!"- so she enjoyed the silence.

A very sharp, very distinct kriiiiissskkk sound came from just behind her, and the elf launched herself forward. She spun on her heel, bow in her hands within seconds, and aimed into the dark tree line. But there was nothing. She stood there, tense, waiting for any signs of movement. That noise was familiar. Where had she heard it before? Silver eyes widened. The noise she had heard in her travels in an abandoned village. It had been ghosts, that plagued her party for a full day, causing bad luck to befall them in all their attempts to attack, barter, and persuade. But they couldn't leave her world... right?

Movement caught her eye and she let an arrow go. It missed, sticking into a tree with a loud thump. Colorful curses emitted from the elf, as there was no way should have missed that shot from such a short distance. She spun again on her heel and dashed back into the village. Screw this. She was out.

[Zenith]

There was an error report on his HUD.

That was, strictly speaking, not entirely surprising. Error reports were simply part and parcel of being a purely mechanical being. They functioned like organic aches and pains, alerting the poor sucker stuck with them that Something Was Wrong And Needed To be Fixed. Most of the time a simple self-scan would turn up an obvious mechanical cause, and from there the solution was typically easy enough to find and implement. Tweaked wires could be un-tweaked. Bent exoplating could be hammered back into shape. Even most coding snarls could be undone with minimal effort.

But this error report was different. It was stubborn. Zee had already thrown a couple of scans at the problem, and both had come back suspiciously clean. Autorepair had already erased all evidence of his less-than-graceful landing. All of his myriad onboard systems were humming along in perfect condition. Even his notoriously-buggy medical coding was behaving itself, inasmuch as something as sterile as unaltered code could be said to do much of anything. Zenith was, by all appearances, in perfect health.

And yet, that error report persisted, a red exclamation point plastered over one corner of his vision, and no amount of debugging would rid him of it.

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was absolutely cause for paranoia.

And so it was a slightly fretful Zee who ambled out of the cave he’d taken up residence in and settled in the sun, hoping against hope that a long soak would finally convince that ‘oh slag’ notice to bugger off.

And if he kept a weather optic on the woods around him, well, that was just common sense. Planet wasn't as safe as the gaping void of space, and this was no time for a nap, not with Mortilus all but venting down the back of his neck.

[Deleted]

It had been a cheerful sort of day. Zirah had gotten a ton of cleaning done to his shop/home...and by cleaning we totally mean he moved two books, dusted three shelves, and then promptly got distracted by a book he'd never seen before and that was mostly that.

He'd done some rearranging, too. Little things, here and there, and then when he accidentally dropped a mirror that shattered, well. More cleaning was involved. And, weirdly enough, it had shattered into thirteen pieces of different sizes, not that Zirah was counting. He just wanted it done and gone with, so no one would end up hurting themselves on the broken glass.

Later in the evening, as he was getting ready to leave, the lovely rocking chair he had tucked in a cozy nook began to rock, though Zirah paid that no heed. In a building that was soaked to its core in magic, things just. Sort of happened. And even the ever anxious Zirah didn't worry about it.

No, he was mostly excited about the nighttime market he was going to. Because of course Planet had one at night. Why wouldn't it.

Dressed against the chill of the evening, humming a cheerful tune, the mage made his way away from the village and out to the woods. Because of course it wasn't someplace close. No, he'd have to go through creepy forest to get to the clearing where the market was. It was dark and chilly, though Zirah conjured a small pale ball of light to show the path in front of him.

He really was far too cheerful about the entire thing.

And oh, was that a raven in that tree? What a lovely creature!

It also didn't try to eat him, so bonus on that.

What a great start to the evening.

[Deleted]

It was officially the end of the world.

It all started on a dark and stormy night...

... not that this bothered Crow, as a general rule. Dark and stormy was a fantastic setting for all sorts of drama. It could make the most casual of conversations sound like a stage play about the end of the world when one had lightning crackling in the background as one spoke. But this wasn't the dramatic, thunder and lightning, sky gods battling for dominance, pronouncements of doom on the clifftops sort of storm. No, no, it was just the "pouring rain for at least the last six hours and everything's starting to get very soggy and leaking a bit" sort of storm. And what good did that do anyone? Thunder and lightning, amazing, 10 out of 10. But just plain damp? The damp was something Crow could do without. It just made his robes cling to him and made everything smell a little fusty and he couldn't even properly open the windows in the little house he'd commandeered to air it out because then it'd just get MORE damp.

But the damp wasn't the end of the world. It was just the beginning of the end.

The damp had resulted in one out-of-sorts mage sort of pacing around inside a house that felt uncomfortably small and enclosed and unfamiliar, looking for something to keep him busy. The damp had also resulted, as damp weather often does, in said mage's hair going irritatingly frizzy, in spite of how often he scowled at his reflection in the long mirror he had hung on his door. It was only when he paused to scowl a little more thoroughly at that reflection that Crow realized that he was doomed, this world was doomed, that there was no saving anyone or anything, and that they were all set to drown in the depths of despair before succumbing to a painful and untimely death.

There was a grey.

Hair.

On his temple.

There could be no worse omen.

Plucking the offending strand from his scalp was not going to be enough to let Crow go on with his day. His life was ruined, RUINED. He was going to shrivel up and get OLD and DIE a miserable elderly death and he was going to look terrible while doing it and did he mention that this was the end of the world? Because seriously, this was the end of the world. Scratch all his plans for this evening, Crow had some furniture to throw himself across while he wasted away in misery.

[Cyprena Sevenius]

The entire idea of good or bad luck, was in Ren’s opinion, stupid. So stupid, in fact, that the very idea of omens or anything of the sort did not even cross her mind. Some Turians, she knew, prickled with superstition and worry, but Ren was not the sort, not one bit. And this isn’t some sort of nervous reassurance hopefully-you’ll-believe-me nonsense.

What did she have to be nervous for? She had a shotgun.

Cassini was off somewhere, practicing her flying and twisting, or something Ren couldn’t quite remember the term (not a great sign, really), and Ren knew that the Arathli wasn’t a huge fan of hanging out in the wher. She really did need to find a proper home, she was running low on things to barter with, and the bed of the inn had never really been long enough for her to begin with. She couldn’t even tell if it was cheap, because the currency on this planet made no sense whatsoever.

But she did have to say that some of the food that she found was edible for her was quite palatable. Look, the planet was weird as hell, but at least all of the food wasn’t a mild form of poison, like it was on the, er, other planets that she was familiar with that wasn’t Palaven. And she was currently munching on this delightful thing that she’d never had before that the store owner called a sandwich. Strange name, absolutely, but the way the different foods combined so well was fantastic.

So Ren was just minding her own business, eating her delicious sandwich (she couldn’t possibly tell you what was in it), when a Wher drawing a carriage nearby decided that he was done with this carriage and went somewhat berserk. And naturally, in order to avoid being completely run over by a carriage, or a Wher, Ren dodged the chaos by waltzing right beneath a ladder.

Ooc: Can I just say I cackled at all of these posts oh my god.

[Alice Noe]

Alice had long since given up on the idea of being an actress. Before she could become a diva of any particular fame she was going to have to spend a lot of time in the daylight for rehearsals and outdoor events and… well that just wasn't going to happen. Sure her life was pretty exciting now but that didn't mean she couldn't lament her lost dreams every now and again. And one thing that was nice about being stuck in the Faewild was the fact that she could go out into the sun, so she liked to take advantage of the nice mid-afternoon strolls that she was able to take so long as she was here.

Another thing she took advantage of was the theater. It wasn't as glamorous as Broadway, but it was a fairly respectable little thing with a dedicated cast of actors that she had to appreciate. She had been to one or two plays since she had discovered it and since she didn't exactly have any pressing work and no way to contact the real world she had a whole lot of free time. No harm in seeing another play.

"Hey, ma'am!" A voice spoke up as Alice was entering the theater and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. It would seem she was early and a small wooden golem-like creature that she had determined was probably the director was waving her over.

"How can I help you?" She asked brightly, defaulting to her receptionist voice.

"I've seen you a few times and one of our extras has called in, would you be willing to fill the spot? No lines or anything, just need a body."

Alice felt like she could faint. She agreed easily enough to the creature with a grin and followed him backstage. "What play is it?" She hadn't exactly checked the schedule, she liked showing up and being surprised.

"Macbeth." He said bluntly, and again Alice felt like she could faint. She was quick to spin three time on her heal and swear in gaelic for good measure. The little golem-director seemed perplexed but he didn't say anything. He lead her about to meet some of the actors, including a tall woman in a gorgeous blue dress lined with Peacock feathers that would seem to be Lady Macbeth, and she was starting to feel a little green.

"Aye! Boy! Go light the candles!" Another voice shouted, and a what Alice could only assume was a child scampered up onto the stage to light a set of three candles, and she couldn't help but notice she was standing on the side of the shortest one. Thanks fuck she was incredibly hard to kill or this could get ugly. "Here, put this on." The Golem-Directer drew her attention back to himself as he handed her a necklace, "And Lady Macbeth will get you squared away with a dress, I'll tell you when to go on. Good luck." He was gone before she could protest.

Instead she looked at the necklace in hand. Garnet. By reflex she dropped it on the ground and held the sapphire that hung from her neck in her fist. If she survived this afternoon she was never, ever coming back here.

[Kimmy]

Zebey
Whazzit collected individuals from all walks of life. There certainly were some nocturnal residents as well as circumstances or activities that only occurred under the moons. However, for some reason, none of the nighttime villagers were out at the moment. In fact, the atmosphere was strangely silent and stagnant. No lights were on in any of the buildings or homes. No shinies flew across the sky or skittered down alleyways.

None of the usual gentle bustle was present tonight. But that didn't mean Zebey was alone.

Even though she moved towards the village and away from the trees, she would feel that something was following her. This something was not tangible. It more like...a shadow. Something that might catch the corner of your eye or chill your spine, but produced no footsteps or breeze or thing of substance. No matter how slow or fast she moved or where she went, it would follow in flickering moments that could easily be imagined.

After a few minutes, she would finally be able to see a shadowed figure that did not snap away, but rather lingered from some distance in some shadowy corner or alleyway. It would remain long enough for an arrow to pierce it, if she so desired, but would disappear if one approached it too closely.

---

Zenith
What was more peaceful than a Cybertronian basking in the sunlight? It was good for the skin metal. It wasn't, however, good for remedying error messages. There were certainly something greater at play here. If it made him feel any better, it wasn't just him that was being affected! (Although maybe that was even more alarming...)

One of the trees in front of him began flicking its brown bark on and off in perfectly square patches, as if its trunk was a grid of colors. Pink, purple, orange, yellow—all different colors would flip back and forth with the brown as if the color coding of the vegetation was glitching. For now, it was just the single tree experiencing this. Or was he just seeing things?

A mouse-snail-lizard hybrid wriggled out of a nearby bush, making its way across to reach the opposite vegetation. Partway through its journey, its slimy limbs began to freeze up and twitch. It repeated the same half-step over and over and over. The motion became quicker until smoke started rising out of its bum. Finally, it just...exploded. Splat. A tiny volcano of green blood and itty bitty body parts. Might want to duck, Zee...

Beyond the visible tree line, sounds of a mechanical whirring could be heard.

---

Zirah
The night market! A place for fresh nightfruits and nightvegetables and nightdwellers, as well as a very friendly cult of folks who worshipped the mother moons. It was notoriously pleasant. And although sometimes it was a long walk, sometimes it...wasn't.

For all the things that could go wrong in a dark forest at night, there was nothing but the persistent raven to keep Zirah company on his walk. Somebody must have moved the market closer because he arrived pretty quickly.

Two portable lamp posts were stuck in the ground to mark the makeshift entrance (though there was no structure enclosing it all). One of the lights was broken and dark. The other...flickered a bit. But once you moved past them, you would see a whole row of stalls on the right and left, lined up for the exploring and purchasing!

But. Where had all the vendors gone? Even the raven was nowhere to be found.

Not a visible humanoid stood behind any of the stalls. Not a single individual was browsing them either. If Zirah wanted to take a look at the un-manned wares, he would find that something had gone horribly wrong. The fruit and vegetables were rotten and infested with Whazzitian insects of all kinds (watch your fingers). A neighboring stall contained voodoo dolls that somehow resembled many Whazzitians. There was one with silver hair and a crown. The doll had a needle stuck where her heart might be and it was...dripping real blood?

Figurines of the moons were shattered. Feet and ears of shinies were dried into charms. Even the cooked food stalls only had bowls of bloodmeal and plates of differently sized eyeballs.

---

Crow
Although there could be no worse occurrence than what Crow had already experienced on this day, there would at least be some other things.

Out of one of the small leaks, the droplets that occasionally fell were starting to look...dark. And maybe a little fuzzy? Oh wait, that was definitely a spider. A soggy spider hit the floor, attempting to run away from the puddle that was forming. As it ran, it began slowing. It became stiffer, crispier. The dark hairs began turning grey. The eyes dried. The legs eventually stopped moving until they began snapping off like brittle.

If it helped, the leak stopped, if only because another few dead spiders were now clogging the hole.

Then, there was a firm and distinct knock at the door that could somehow be heard very well despite the roar of the rain. (Front door, side door, whatever entrance Crow had in this home). It was up to the tragically aging man whether he wished to answer or not.

---

Cyprena
"Does nobody know how bad that is for you?!" The now-grumpy owner of 'Puppy Yoga' exclaimed at Ren. What was with all these idiots walking under his ladder? He was trying to bring some positivity to the world and everyone was ruining it.

The carriage situation escalated. Back and forth it rocked, completely off-kilter. Finally, it tipped over sideways. The Wher managed to unhinge itself, rip away its reins, and run off. The driver ran after it. The carriage, however, was silent for a few moments. Slowly, the door that was now facing the sky opened thanks to the long, slender, pointy black arm that pushed it. A second arm, then a third arm, then a fourth rose up out of the carriage, gripping the sides. A head-like figure emerged from the center, encased in a flat white helmet with an eerie red face painted onto it. Was that blood? The only break in the helmet was the long horizontal slot where one might assume the mouth would be.

A random Whazzitian citizen had approached the carriage. "Are you okay?" She asked, but was ignored. The carriage guest, with its four fingerless pointy arms and makeshift head, had no interest in her. What could only be the front of its face was directed at Ren specifically. Through the slot in the helmet, a black veil pulled away to reveal red, very pointy teeth that were pressed together in a disturbing smile. There was no mistaking it—Ren was the fixation of its attention.

---

Alice
Before the garnet hit the ground, things were already set in motion. The boy that had been lighting candles accidentally tipped one over. The flame landed on a rope that was surely attached to some prop. The rope led to the side of the stage and past the curtain. Lady Macbeth's dress just so happened to be sitting on top of said rope. Due to this chain of events, the dress was now on fire.

As if possessed by a demon, Lady Macbeth's body fell upon the floor. Her mouth was wide open, almost disturbingly so. From it came the wispy, smokey form that might either be described as a soul or a ghost. Mind you, this is before the body was truly burned.

A couple people were running around trying to put out the fire before it spread further. A couple other people were trying to find the keys to the doors they had locked (because, naturally, they had to lock the theatre before too many early guests walked in). One person was standing still, staring at Lady Macbeth's body with great concern.

"Oh no, not again."

The soul-ghost let out a piercing shriek, diving for the nearest person (which happened to be candle boy). Striking him like a bull, the boy's figure flew across the stage before falling limp. The wispy floating creature seemed to grow bigger with this, its vaguely shadowed eyes becoming wider. It seemed to turn towards Alice before gearing up for another full-speed swoop.

---

[OOC: I love you all. You bring me joy.
P.S. - Joining is still open.]

[Zenith]

The sun was warm, the breeze was light, and Zenith? He could almost forget about that Pit-slagging warning message still cluttering up his HUD. In fact, he set about doing precisely that with aplomb, snuggling more comfortably into the grass with wings spread and limbs sprawled. All he needed was a cube of high-grade, maybe some of those rust sticks Polaris made, and his day would be absolutely perfect.

Y’know, if you ignored the fact that reality itself was starting to glitch out.

Zee, of course, was completely oblivious to that fact, and stayed that way for far longer than he likely should have. It was only when a new heat signature pinged his sensor-net that he finally sat up and paid attention. Metaphorically, at least- in actuality he merely onlined an optic and glanced towards the offending hot spot, fully expecting some random organic annoyance to have set his perimeter alarms off.

And then the poor woodland creature exploded. As one does.

“...what the actual slag?”

He was up and moving almost before he was aware of it, aggro-tech coming online with an alacrity that would’ve done his trainers proud. Only problem was, he had nothing to aim all that tech at. Nothing but a tree that was defying all logic and flashing every color of the rainbow all out of sync. Nothing but a grinding noise that drifted from beyond the trees like some monstrous set of teeth gnashing just out of sight.

“Whaaaat the slag.”

Well, if the world was going to go to the Pit, there wasn't much use in waiting for it to happen. Zee hesitated only a bare instant before gathering his courage and skittering off to investigate. With any luck he wouldn’t trip over any more explosive fauna or glitched-out flora.

Primus, but this planet just got weirder and weirder.

[Zebey]

Zebey was usually more observant than this. As she ran through the streets, rather alarming signs started to crop up. First, there were no lights on. No candles, magical lights, fires, nothing. There were also no sounds, and while the drow did like the hours of dusk, it wasn't so late to where nobody else would be up. And there were none of the creatures around either- shinies, or whatever this place called them. Maybe she should have had Kamalah tag along.

As realizations hit and made her skin crawl, she became aware of something following her. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it, and she didn't like it. She stopped, in the center of the village now, realizing she had been turned around somehwere. Why wasn't she paying attention? Now she was in a tight spot, with something unseen following her, and no party members to back her up. She didn't realize she would ever miss Nova or Andy, but damn, did she miss them right now. Then again, she was more observant than both of them, so....

In front of her silver eyes did the shadow figure form. She cursed, bow pulled taught and an arrow aimed at it within a breath of her registering it. Her body was tense, waiting for it to make its move. But it didn't do anything. The slayer scowled. She didn't like being played with. She let an arrow fly. It pierced the figure- so it was tangible, at least- but the figure did not waver. It was hugging the side of a building, in darker shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach it. She stepped foward, bow still aimed at its chest- but when she got too close, it disappeared.

"This is ridiculous," she growled, quietly, gaze sweeping the connecting alleys to see if she could find it again. Maybe the bad luck didn't stick this time, as she was able to hit it? She turned back around to continue running, and nearly fell over a huge rock in her way. A couple of colorful curses were snapped, as she stumbled and caught herself. Instead of running, she started jogging back down an alley, determined to find her way out of this village and back to her makeshift home.

[Deleted]

Once upon a late night’s storming
Whilst bemoaning grey hair forming
Draped across a pillowed chaise and looking frankly pretty sad
While he contemplated dying
(both mortal loss and hue applying)
There came a sound, that, in his mood, Crow had to figure must be bad
“What the hell,” he bitched, annoyed, “that drip is really getting bad.”
A better roof, he wished he had

But roof repairmen he was lacking
And, in magic, frankly slacking
His energies had all been focused on lamenting ‘round the flat
While drowning in his sorrows bitter
The drip he heard became a skitter
As if some creature, hard and pointy, dashed across his welcome mat
But neither pets had Crow, nor creatures, nor even simple welcome mat
Quoth the Crow; “The fuck was THAT?”

A spider it was, gross and hairy
(no mage would ever find one scary)
(please ignore what was indeed a very manly shriek of terror)
That spider promptly dessicated
Was nothing to be celebrated
As many spiders filled the leak ‘til water couldn’t flow from there
“What makes you think it helps,” he shouted, “that even more are stuck up there?!”
Quoth the Crow; “THEY’RE IN MY HAIR!!!”

Poor Crow leapt up, aghast and flailing
His voice pitched to pathetic wailing
“Kill it kill it god it’s moving IT’S TOUCHING ME OH GOD OH EEW”
From spider bite, he’d surely perish
But what’s this? A sound he cherished!
A knock! A knock! A savior came to rescue him, as saviors do!
“ZIRAH!” he cried at the knocking, “dearest Zirah, is that you?!”
If not Zirah dear… then who?

[Deleted]

As a whole, Zirah didn't have any problems with nighttime. The woods didn't freak him out, the dark wasn't something to be feared, and the raven was a cheerful sort that the mage really rather liked. He'd have to see if he could leave the curious creature an offering later -- something shiny or tasty or a mixture of options. It never hurts to make friends with the local wildlife, and ravens were fascinating creatures. Who knew what they'd be like in this place.

It was a short walk, though Zirah didn't really know any better. Though with what he was learning about Planet, he probably wouldn't have thought twice about the length of time changing, anyways. But something of an ill feeling was starting to settle on his shoulders, a tickle to the back of his mind. It wasn't anything he was going to worry himself about yet. There was probably no real reason for it, as anxiety was like that.

There was a flickering light up ahead, and it was clear that he had found his way to the marketplace, but. Yeah, no, some part of him just told himself to turn around and leave. The raven was gone, and it was silent in an unnatural way. The quiet background noises of the woods were gone, there was no sounds of talking or singing from the market, and everything was just wrong. But his conscious wasn't willing to let himself back away, not yet.

Though as he stepped past the makeshift entrance, and finally got a good look at things, Zirah just kind of wished he'd never even gotten out of bed this morning.

It was like a nightmare and a flashback to his past, all rolled into one. This was a message, a threat, a promise. He came from a place that wouldn't tolerate worship of other gods or goddesses. Or happy gatherings like this was meant to be. The smell of death and decay, of rotting food, the sound of buzzing from insects, the visual aspect of it all...

Zirah was not too proud to deny taking three steps to the right and losing his dinner right there on the grass.

As he straightened and wiped his mouth, the mage found himself scared...but more importantly, he found himself furious. This wasn't supposed to be here. He had been brought to a better place, and this kind of senseless desecration did not belong here. He didn't know if the people here were all driven away, or killed, or kidnapped, and he didn't know who or what had done this, but Zirah firmly told his anxiety not tonight, there could be a meltdown later. There would definitely be nightmares later.

But for now, the mage checked the nearby stalls, and paused to frown at one of the dolls. The poor guy didn't get out much, so he recognized almost no one there, but his eyes were drawn by the voodoo doll with the crown, the pin, and the blood. He muttered his displeasure, and didn't hesitate to scoop the doll carefully in hand, before unhesitatingly yanking out the pin.

If he could fix all this, he would. But he could only magic back some of the smashed moon figurines, and cradle the doll close. It did not feel like much, but he needed to work on not getting sick to his stomach, again, before moving on.

[Cyprena Sevenius]

Ren paused her steps, turning to look at the stranger who was suddenly talking to her. That wasn’t really the strange thing, she had sort of gotten used to random people, things, talking to her. What caught her attention were his words. “What’s bad for me--” The, get-your-shit-together situation with the carriage and the Wher took a turn for the shittier. The Wher broke free, took off, and the carriage driver ran after him, and Ren, with her half-eaten sandwich, turned with the rest of the crowd and watched the tipped-over carriage. She had never claimed that she was above any sort of rubbernecking.

She took another bite, but her chewing slowed as the door opened slowly, like it was trying to draw out the suspense of the crowd. Her mouth was full, her mandibles were slightly open, and she watched as one, two, three, four arms were they, followed by some white thing that almost looked like a head. White and red. Huh. It was almost like the figure was focused on little ole’ her.

Her eyes briefly flicked over to the Whazzitinian that approached the figure, wondering if it would turn its attention to this new person or fucking attack her, but it didn’t. It continued to, face? Ren, and the Turian watched, for some reason, as the veil pulled away, and she was met by a toothy, ugly red smile.

Welllll, nope.

It seemed that Puppy Yoga owner was just as entranced by whatever the hell she had just witnessed as she had been moments ago, but Ren was out of here. She had faced the creepy before, and she usually found that the best thing to do in a situation like this was leave one hand free so that she could grab her shotgun and move the fuck on. And that’s exactly what she intended to do. There was little enough sandwich that she could hold it with her other hand anyway. She kept walking passed the ladder, still unaware of whatever unluck it brought her, and went on her merry way.

[Alice Noe]

"Again!?" Alice questioned with much concern, the nonchalant way that it was said made her think this was not a rare occurrence. Watching the ghost-thing swoop at the boy all she could do was shake her head and hope that he was okay. But when it turned on her she shook her head. "Oh no, you leave me out of this!" She insisted, like scolding a fae-ghost-banshee was going to get her anywhere.

As it came swooping her direction she braced herself, planning it's trajectory as best she could, and once it was within arms reach of her the woman was gone. Although close eyes might notice a little white mice scampering away from the burning dress. This went above and beyond not being paid enough for this. She absolutely should have expected the fae theater was going to be some kind of absolute disaster.

She just hoped the ghost didn't recognise her. Some fae were able to do that she knew.

[Kimmy]

Zenith
As Zee began moving, more trees began adopting a similar glitching pattern. It seemed to spread in order, from the first abnormal trunk to those adjacent to it and so on. Eventually, there would be nowhere in sight with a normal (whatever normal was) tree.

The whirring, grinding sound grew closer. Flicks of something large and dark between the flashing trunks. Depending on if Zenith was his standard size or fun-size, the contraption that entered into view may or may not compare. It was roughly 10 feet tall with a bulbous, rounded center almost like a mechanical spider. Its legs, however, were wavy and billowy like an octopus. It was a strange mixture of both metal and organic matter—mechanical noises combined with a natural flow of movement as if it was alive. Red eyes were painted onto it, with small holes in the center that may or may not be real. As a straight, large metal mouth opened, more tentacle-like appendages emerged, though these were thinner. There must have been at least 30 'legs' in total.

Once it noticed Zee, characterized by a brief pause, it stopped moving forward. The tentacle-legs all rose up towards the sky. Then, faster than one might expect, shot forward. They were trying to aggressively grab him in any way they could get a hold.

---

Zebey
There were more. Once the arrow-pierced figure disappeared, it didn't take long for its own party members to start appearing. On rooftops, in corners, inside the town fountain (was the water always black?), through windows. The dark, faceless figures gradually surrounded Zebey with a wide perimeter. Should she get within a few yards of any of them, they would promptly disappear.

Even worse than the rock that tripped her, there seemed to be invisible strings throughout this area of the town. They were everywhere and failed to catch the moonlight as warning. Across buildings, at foot level, all angles. They were all taut and solid—they would not break without a sharp edge to cut them. Upon skin, they might cause a nick or two, but they weren't exactly slicing material.

An odd cackle echoed down the alleyways.

---

Crow
For the spiders that fell inside
Upon the greying hair they caught a ride
What was torture for Crow was fun for them
His yell was manly, certainly not femme

They too were happy for a visitor
Though hopefully it was not a solicitor
Behind the door, their hood was shady
But as they looked up, behold an old lady!

Her hair was grey, her skin was wrinkled
She had so many moles that her face was sprinkled
"Please, sir, may I have shelter from the storm?"
On the floor, more spiders began to swarm

Whether or not she was asked inside
And whether or not the Crow did cried
As her body turned, a bulbous bum
Her bottom half, from a spider it did come

Legs emerged from inside the robe
Towards the nonexistent welcome mat did they probe
Eight in total, thin and black
But she seemed pretty sweet, imagine that!

---

Zirah
Poor Zirah had encountered a night market much different from the typical Whazzitian sort. There was quite a few more stalls to pass before he would reach the opposite end, where both lamps seemed to be broken and out. The moons, however, managed to shed enough light to demonstrate where the exit was.

What some might consider a bad sign, Zirah might perceive as a hopeful sign: the raven! It had returned. It sat upon the lamppost ahead, cawing once and adjusting its folded wings. As if out of thin air, with no sound, there was suddenly a figure standing below the raven. It was roughly humanoid in shape, though with its hood up, no further details could be seen. They weren't moving, but the edges of their cloak shifted gently. The raven seemed to glance down at them, so perhaps the individual was not a figment of imagination.

Far away, in some other area of Planet, Haelys somehow found a weight seemingly pulled off her chest. Huh.

---

Cyprena
There were plenty of other folks around. Not only was someone checking on the black multi-armed smiley thing, but there were several others coming over to help tip the carriage back upright just as Ren was bailing.

For a while, it did seem that the Turian had successfully avoided the situation. Things around her were relatively normal (for Whazzit). Eventually, Ren would need to turn some kind of corner, because how long could somebody continue walking in a straight line?

Wherever she was, whatever corner she turned, she had found her creepy friend.

It would be standing inches from her face, smile still wide and pointy. Two of its arms would be outstretched to block her path while the two held...sandwiches. A pile of sandwiches. Sure, there was some unknown sort of raw meat inside them, and maybe they were dripping blood-tinged juice out of their wrappings and onto the floor, but sandwiches they were.

The bottom half of this creature was wide-based and wispy. It was difficult to tell if there was distinct legs or if it was simply floating in place. Its red painted eyes were eerily fixed on her despite the fact that they could not shift. Should Ren decide to use her shotgun, she would find that it would blow an open hole clean through the black, but the remainder of the figure would not budge. Should she turn to leave, it would follow.

---

Alice
The soul-ghost was befuddled. It had looked as if it would certainly make contact with Alice and yet it had somehow missed its mark, barely avoiding a collision with the side-stage wall. It screeched in frustration, the sound echoing throughout the theatre. Luckily, it did not notice the little white mouse.

Unluckily, however, the soulless Lady Macbeth and candle boy had risen to their feet, their eyes rolled into their heads so that only white sclera showed. They ran after Alice the mouse. The lady's dress was still on fire as she chased, very willing to mow over the mouse with her burning outfit. The boy held a candle in his hand, wildly swiping it and his other hand to try and either burn her or grab her.

The soul-ghost was busy making all sorts of strangely spooky noises as it captured others in the theatre. Their bodies would also rise up, searching desperately for the tiny Alice. Meanwhile, the ghostly figure grew.

---

[OOC: Friendly reminder to send me your prefs if you have them. If you have none, you're good!]

[Deleted]

It wasn’t even that spiders were specifically that terrible. Certainly, the dreadful world from which Crow heralded produced monsters far greater and more terrifying than a simple fuzzy bug. Crow just happened not to be having a very good evening, what with the damp and the End Of The World and all, and his nerves weren’t what they used to be.

Also, there was nobody in his house to show off for. So. Screaming it was.

A lot of screaming.

Also, hopping up on to the furniture, blasting fireballs at the spiders on the floor, realizing too late that getting up on furniture got his head closer to the leaking ceiling that was producing the spiders, getting spiders in his hair, MORE screaming, significant flailing, and a bit of almost acrobatic leaping about as he tried to free himself from their multi-legged embrace while also endeavoring not to step on any of them because then they would be Between His Toes and that would be altogether too much.

Really not an ideal evening, over all.

The knock on the door left Crow almost collapsing in sheer relief. Clearly, it was Zirah, come to rescue him from this spidery nightmare and to reassure him that grey hair looked distinguished on him… okay, mostly the second one. Again, the spiders really weren’t that terrible, and the second he had his friend around to show off in front of, he’d be very cooly dismissive of them. But it wasn’t Zirah at the door. Not even close. Zirah never made Crow feel like he’d swallowed a pitcher of mercury, leaving his stomach heavy, cold, and full of poison.

Crow came from a world full of dread gods. The spiders pouring across the floor, the old woman with a bulbous and unnatural body, the strange way she spoke, the shifting as legs came scuttling out from under her robes… yeah, all this said “dread god” to him. Zirah was going to be UPSET, that was certain.

But not for nothing had Crow been a priest in an order of a dread god. If there was anything that all gods, in his experience, had in common, it was that they all loved respect… and charm. And Crow? He was MADE of charm. Plastering his best “I am reasonably afraid of you but still know my role” smile on his face, he opened the door wide, greeting the old spider-woman with a courtly bow.

“Of course, madame!” he stated warmly. “I’d be honored by your company. Do please make yourself comfortable.”

When this was done? He was going to burn this house. The house and all the dead spiders. Burned to ashes. To dust. And the grey hair that started all this, it was going to have it’s own personal pyre, right in the middle, where nobody would ever find any trace of it.

[Deleted]

Poor Zirah was going to have nightmares for a month straight about this unusual nightmarket. 

It might be bumped up to two months if he found out that Crow was dealing with a potential dread goddess.

This evening had started out so well. He still wasn't sure what was going on.

Hating everything, Zirah continued to push forward. He had no choice but to check the stalls he came across and dealing with what he saw. From eyeballs to other questionable organ meats, to dried ears and fur and assorted other things, to far too much blood, he just kept looking. Made sure he wasn't missing anything, or more importantly, anyone. If there was someone injured, or terrified and hiding, he would find them. And he didn't quite know why he was the only one here.

As bad as this was, the mage almost wondered if he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at the wrong place and time. He was sure there was a darkness to Planet. Everyplace had it.

Managing to walk through the rest of the line of stalls without getting too worked up, Zirah found himself once again facing lamps, though this time they were both broken. He paused, not having a problem seeing, as the comforting light of the moons managed to light the area well enough. Carefully, he tucked the still cradled doll into his pocket, and briefly turned his gaze upwards. And maybe, just maybe, he found himself offering a silent prayer skyward, for help, and guidance, and the well-being of anyone that might have been here.

Only then did he notice the raven. Whether it had been there before his prayer, or showed up after, he certainly couldn't say. It didn't matter, though, for Zirah definitely saw it as a good sign and couldn't help but smile at it.He was definitely going to have to tell Crow about this part, at least.

"Hello again!" Because yes, Zirah, lets zone out in prayer and then announce to the world your exact location. There could be a serial killer around and now he'd definitely know where you were.

And, oh, look. Something that could be a serial killer.

Hooded figures could be trouble, or wizened help, from Zirah's experience. There was an entire bloody mess behind him, literally, and now there was a randomly appearing, vaguely humanish shaped, stranger in front of him. The raven did glance at the stranger, and Zirah just had to be willing to believe in his raven good=luck charm right now.

Besides, surely if he was in real danger and about to be attacked, Crow would show up. He had a knack for that kind of thing. Knowing when Zirah was in need of rescuing.

Though with what he just walked through, he probably was in need of rescuing.

"Hello." He finally offered, after an impolite amount of silent and staring. "I, uh. Would not suggest continuing forward. Quite a mess behind me." Zirah paused, and then suddenly realized how this might look. Oh, there was probably some blood stains on his cuffs of his shirt and trousers. "Not that I caused it!" He hastened to point out, voice rising a bit, "I just stumbled on it, and I was looking for other people, and I have no idea what happened here."

Great. Now who sounded like a serial killer?

Things lapsed into awkward silence again. Zirah wanted to slink away, but he wasn't going back the way he came and he hadn't yet worked up the nerve to walk around the stranger. 

He really did regret leaving home that evening. 

[Zebey]

If this was the same phenomenon, from six months ago, that had plagued her party for two straight days- she was screwed. They barely beat them the first time, and that included three other well trained Pathfinders. Just her by herself… she really didn’t stand a chance. As more of them kept popping up, yet infuriatingly disappearing whenever she tried getting close, the slayer was convinced she was losing her sanity. She was seeing these things everywhere, in windows, a fountain (), alleys, rooftops, just behind her, everywhere.

She turned a corner and realized she was completely turned around. In her confusion and focus on these figures, she lost her grasp on where she was in the village. She still didn’t know it well enough yet- hence why she was here so late at night- and now she was paying for it. The drow was tense and irritated and at this point, she just wanted to go home. She crossed an open plaza, entering into the more decrepit and unused part of the town (the local Anvil were still in the process of rebuilding), and felt something sharp across her arm. Startled, she leapt to the side, swinging her bow around. It wasn’t caused by the figures though. She had to stare to see it, but there it was, a string. She looked at where it touched her- a little scratch, it hadn’t broken skin- but still. Why had she not seen that?

Now she was just exasperated. She debated throwing her bow to the ground in disgust. Whether it was with the entity(ies?) toying with her, the bow itself, or herself, she wasn’t quite sure. Pointed ears twitched when the cackle echoed to her from the alleyways surrounding her. She scowled, straightening and sweeping the rows of darkened streets with glinting silver eyes. “Are you going to keep hiding, or approach me?” she snapped. Fine. If she couldn’t come to you- she’ll wait for you to come to her.

ooc.
-cackles- I love ALL of this.

[Zenith]

And everything just kept getting better.

Worse. He meant worse. Because glitches spreading through forests were the absolute worst kind of news.

Zee slunk further into the forest, and the... aggressively-infectious flora-based cascade error??? followed him. In fact, it soon outpaced him, lurid colors sweeping past him in a monstrous wash of pixels. It was almost impressive, actually, provided you could ignore the fact that none of this was supposed to be happening. Trees weren’t supposed to change colors on the fly. Small adorable hybrid animals weren’t supposed to turn into fountains of chunky salsa. More to the point, weird creepy grinding noises absolutely weren’t supposed to come in on every wavelength and get more aggressive as time went on.

Then Zee sidestepped a tree, spotted an almost Cybertronian-scale shadow where one absolutely shouldn’t have been, and physically felt his spark sink into his pedes.

Yep. Today really was just getting better and better.

The Cybertronian Exploration Corps had some things to say about first contact with alien species. Things like ‘do it very carefully’, and ‘only after extensive study’, and ‘when in doubt, err on the side of caution’. The problem was, all of those rules suspiciously resembled a plan. And plans? Never survived contact with the enemy.

Enemies like the many-legged thing that reached towards him now, clearly intent on turning his innards into outards.

“Oh frag no!”

Zee all but threw himself into his alt-mode. Metal clattered, exoplating shifted, and for a brief moment the roar of an alien engine drowned out the not-octopus’ creepy-aft mechanical grinding sounds. The moment said alien jet cleared the treetops he looped over and back down, aggro-tech painting crosshairs across the techno-organic monstrosity’s midsection. Lasers spun up with a high-pitched whine, then-

PEW.

more pewpew less qq zee