EVENT ∞ LOG — July 125

[thediadem]

Event ∞ Log

In the Flesh

Jump ⇅ :: Visits — First Contact — Hitchhikers — Notes

∞ Prologue ∞

It's not real, it's not real.

Somewhere in the Blocks, late at night, a young woman repeats the words over and over, fumbling with her room key. She doesn't dare look over her shoulder again, begging her hand to obey. Her fingers are stiff and smooth, and it makes each movement more difficult. Eventually, the door gives way. She stumbles into the apartment, slamming it behind her and locking several bolts.

Leaning back on the door, she lets her key ring fall to the linoleum as she holds her hand up to her face. It isn't just her fingers now. Painted plastic has taken over her entire right hand, spreading up her forearm toward a ball-jointed elbow that creaks painfully. She grabs her neck with her flesh hand, sucking in a sharp breath as she tries to steady her heart.

It's not real, it's not real...

She takes another breath, then turns on the light. The bulb flickers. Hazy light flood the room with an incessant buzz.

She freezes.

A figure stands in the opposite doorway. It doesn't move, stuck in a pose with an outstretched hand—one made of flesh and bone. Her hand.

She screams.

Info & Mechanics — NPC Forum Post — Event Interaction ::: ⇅ Top

Strange Visits

Panorama

For the first week or two of July, life goes on as usual. You have a lot on your plate—jobs, loans, rent, that creep who won't stop staring at you when you're filling up your car—and the last thing you've got time for is other people's problems. Or maybe you find room to listen, anyway? Whatever the case, it's mostly a lot of stories and pointing fingers: a shopkeeper accuses his friend of stealing from him, somebody claims their boss must've skipped town to avoid paying the employees, and a woman is frantic about her missing husband. He never goes anywhere without telling her.

If you decide to look into it, none of the incidents seem connected. After all, people frequently go missing in the Diadem, friends betray each other, and businesses often go bankrupt, leaving their workers to pick up the pieces. Funny thing, though: here and there, you swear you glimpse a figure who isn't entirely flesh. Their features are just...a bit odd. Is it your imagination? When you move in for a closer look, something gets in your way and the figure disappears.

On the other hand, you think to yourself, it's not as though everybody on this planet looks standard. If a man can have horns, why can't his skin also be a bit plasticky?

Use the Event Interaction comment any time you need specifics or some direction for an element you're engaging within the event. This can be an NPC victim your character is questioning, an aspect of the diffusion zone your character is testing, or anything along those veins. While you're encouraged to make things up on your own, too, if you're ever unsure of the results or the answers you might get, approach us there!

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First Contact

The Fringes

Inevitably, you take the risk and head back into the Fringes. It has what you need, and the bizarreness in Panorama isn't making the city feel like much of a refuge, either. Besides, long trips aren't unusual for anyone in the Diadem. As you drive, you might even find yourself reluctant to return to the city. After all, there's so much across the multitude of diffusion zones that regardless of how dangerous it can be, perhaps some part of you is attracted to the thrill of the unknown.

If the promise of loot isn't enough, a note on the Forum might be. Here, you'll scroll across a brief message from who else but the ever-eager Felix Bjurstrom, joined by his daughter, Olive "Ollie" Bjurstrom. (Looks like he's got a new phone again!) If nothing else, the investigative or curious nature in you gets you going. What if this is a piece of the puzzle you need to go home?

If you want your character to scavenge items, check how that works. The Map identifies where each Quadrant is located.

Among the Shadows — Abandoned Mall

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 10-hour drive from Panorama, a standard American shopping mall rises through the cracked and broken highway. A portion of its vast parking lot melts into the road ahead and behind. There are cars in the parking lot, each one perfectly preserved: no rust, no dust, nothing.

The mall's lights are on. The moment you step inside, you'll notice that you're not alone. Inside, shadow corpses are everywhere, frozen in time. Their bodies show no signs of distress. If you try to touch them, a dark, ashy residue coats your fingers. You see a young couple linking arms, a mother bending over to pick up her child, and a man ordering his last meal at the KFC. It's as though they all just...stopped. While eerie, whatever force swept through here is long gone.

The upside is that nobody will bother you while you look around—aside from other fluxdrifts, of course. The shops and their offerings are stuck in the 90's. Big electronics are cosmic touched, rendering them worthless, but smaller electronics like cassette tapes, CDs, and Walkmans are all viable. You can also grab clothes, snacks, and (cheap) jewelry.

And, as you pass by the store windows, you see many mannequins on display. That's normal, so you don't think twice. At least, until you swear one of them keeps moving around the store. Though its pose never changes, it almost appears to...follow you? That can't be right. You must be seeing things.

Zone Effects
Touching any of the frozen shadows will cause the victim to believe that their companion(s) have transformed into monstrous creatures. Attempts to approach you will only register as an attack rather than placating gestures, while words will sound like snarls or spoken threats. An induced panic will make it more difficult to think logically and see through the hallucination. The illusory creatures can take the form of anything that might frighten or threaten you the most.

You can break free of the illusion through a variety of methods, including your own willpower, being knocked out by your friends, or seeing/hearing something that makes you realize it isn't real. The hallucination isn't overly intense, but it can cause a bit of havoc among you and your companions...and increase the likelihood a mannequin might make contact unnoticed.

Wall of Refuge — Strange Temple

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 6-hour drive from Panorama—and on the way to the abandoned mall above—stands a geometric structure made of metal and stone. Sharp angles shoot up from the ground to form a distorted hexagon. The gateway is littered with sigils: some weathered by time, others freshly carved into the rocky surface. They glow when you drive forward, beckoning you closer. Come in, whispers an unknown compulsion in your mind. You are home.

You may succumb to the whispers for any number of reasons: sleep deprivation, desperation for a place to rest overnight, or a need to hide from raiders or dangerous creatures lurking in another nearby zone. Regardless, you give in and enter the triangular entrance. The stone gate lifts to grant you passage, revealing an effigy of a multi-limbed being. A deity? A symbol of power? Though you're unsure, you continue deeper. Your footsteps echo across the cavernous halls.

Behind you, the heavy gate slowly closes with a rumbling finality. Despite the chilly entranceway, the interior of the temple is warm and inviting. Candles line the walls. Fountains flow peacefully. You can enter one of the many rooms to find a soft bed, fresh cakes, succulent meat, and fine wine available for you. Behind a silk curtain is a steaming bath lined with soothing floral herbs and oils.

Meanwhile, throughout your explorations, you might sense a figure or a shadow in the passageway. A glimpse of shiny plastic appears oddly out of place in a temple of this kind.

Zone Effects

• If you are a believer and decide to trust the gifts bestowed upon you, then you may safely indulge. The wine will warm you up, the food will fill your belly, and you can sleep through the night. When you awaken, you can safely leave the temple refreshed. Your vehicle will be outside, untouched, as if some power within was protecting your belongings.
• If you are a heretic and doubt the offerings you've been graciously given, the gifts will begin to rot and all amenities will crumble to dust. The more your cynicism betrays you, the more the temple will take until nothing remains except the oddly textured walls bearing down on you. As you examine the surface, you realize the stone is built from a manifold of dozens—no, hundreds—of twisted bodies. Their arms are raised in reverence, piled upon each other like human bricks. Their gaping mouths are frozen in a silent scream. As for you and your companions...what fate will await the nonbeliever?

The Last Stop — Foggy Town

©

In Quadrant 4, about a 3-hour drive from Panorama, east of the currently unused train tracks, a thick mist rolls through the highway. Here, the sky darkens rapidly into night and the temperature drops. If you've traveled unprepared, presuming the heat in Panorama spreads into the Fringes, you'll find that's not so. A chill spreads into your bones and creeps up the back of your neck.

Then the ground rumbles. The tremors shake your vehicle. Maybe it even makes you lose control briefly or sends you swerving off-road, straight into the fields. And in the middle of the fog, you see it: a figure standing in the middle of the field. Behind it are a few houses, making up a tiny rural town. The houses are dilapidated, many crumbling. Supplies within are minimal, and many items are broken or spoiled.

Do you approach? Do you drive past? Merely staring for a second too long will be enough for the hitchhiker to choose you as its ride, but its appearance may not be all that keeps you in place. In the distance is another bigger shadow. A much bigger shadow. It looms in the distance without true mass or form. Within the void of its body, a searchlight sweeps over the misty town. It does not move. It simply looks while the ground shakes. Each time its light catches a glimpse of something that doesn't belong—an animal, a vehicle that drove too deep into the tall grass, a raider that went too far into town—a sonorous howl reverberates through the zone.

Then the shadow will teleport to its target and crush the intruder without mercy before retreating back to its watchful post. And the intruder is indeed crushed: any living organism caught by the Light Guardian will be flattened with a horrifying crunch of broken bones and squished organs.

Zone Effects
While the Light Guardian can't be defeated or confronted, you can outrun or hide from its sweeping beam. If you stop far enough on the side of the road, it won't notice you...but you can still watch as it mangles an unfortunate raider or traveler. Possibly, you see the spray of blood or hear the screams before you run. Perhaps you realize how easily you could've met your own gory fate.

If you've left your car and gone too deep into the town before you realize the danger, you can do one of two things: you can risk hiding in an abandoned house in the town and hope that the sunrise comes. In zones like this, the day/night cycle is unpredictable, and many places are permanently cast in darkness. Or, you can try to run back to your vehicle and pray you don't get caught.

Alternatively, you've plowed directly into the field when raiders in pursuit force you into the zone. Should fortune favor you, they'll be obliterated by the Light Guardian while you flee. The beam tracks quickly, but can only shine in one direction at a time so the key is to bob and weave.

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Hitchhikers

Anywhere

Not everyone who enters the diffusion zone will pick up a mannequin, but the possibility is there. Once you make first contact, you will gain a hitchhiker. Unlike most aspects of the diffusion zones, this one has gathered into a storm, meaning the effects will breach even normally stable and anchored strongholds like Panorama.

Some fluxdrifts will brush off your problems while a few might believe you. Others will offer solutions in their own way, including a doctor who'll pay to obtain strange plastic limbs. Not everyone will pitch in to help. The city's big, populated, and somebody on the street turning doll-like doesn't affect them (...until it does). They've got a job to get to and mouths to feed.

Unwanted Passenger

When do you first notice your passenger? At any point, really. Perhaps it goes like this:

You glance in the rearview mirror and glimpse a figure in the backseat. When you spin around, there's nobody there. Then it happens again. This time, you realize it's not a person, but a dummy. A mannequin. It's sitting upright. And is it...wearing a seatbelt? Or maybe it's thrown itself across the back bench as though somebody tossed it there, uncaring.

This time, when you look back, it's still there. You pull over and dump it on the side of the road. That's taken care of, you think. You drive some more. For a few hours or even a day or two—depending on how long you've traveled—you don't think much of it. Then suddenly, it's back. And it keeps coming back no matter how much you try to get rid of it.

Or it goes like this:

You return from a standard trip into a diffusion zone. It went pretty well, you think. You found some clothes at a creepy mall and now you're ready to get some sleep. When you open your trunk to retrieve your belongings, you notice a mannequin stuffed inside, limbs bent at odd angles. You're a little weirded out, but you decide to dump it on the street and move on.

You shower. In the bathroom mirror, the mannequin suddenly appears behind you. Over the next few days, this continues. The mannequin appears in a booth across the diner as you're eating your eggs. It's behind a shelf in the corner store. It's in your closet. Each time you check, it vanishes...but then, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it's right there in plain view. It'll even let you throw it away, burn it, anything you can think of. But it always comes back.

However it plays out, you realize that people around you do notice it...sometimes. That doesn't mean anyone will believe you that things are just that weird. Most people have better things to do. They don't know you, after all, and even if they did, well, this place does have a habit of driving people a little crazy. Witnesses casually push the mannequin aside and tell you that's a funny prank. Your regular waitress pats your shoulder and suggests you get some sleep. You're not looking well. The shopkeeper demands you take that thing before you go. He's not responsible for your junk.

But there's a small chance you run into someone who seems to be going through what you are. Unfortunately, they seem to actually have it worse and aren't making much sense. Still, you can try questioning them and see what answers you get. At least, before you lose them for good. For some of you, the victim you run into is in especially bad shape...and you have to wonder how long before you end up the same.

Trading Places

For some of you, the mannequins might not do more than be a nuisance. While that's not ideal, either, it doesn't completely upend your life. Others are less fortunate. If you're one of the latter, you'll begin to notice symptoms.

The first time it happens, you're startled to hear the mannequin speak. To begin with, its voice might be guttural and unnatural, incapable of stringing more than a few words together. Then it seems to learn. It talks in full sentences. Its voice smooths out. It starts to sound more and more like you...right down to your speech patterns and accent. As symptoms progress with varying intensity—over days or weeks—you realize with dawning horror that you're losing parts of yourself. When you wash your hands, you notice a part of your skin is smooth and shiny. The next time the mannequin appears, its previously plasticky appearance is more flesh and blood.

Eventually, the mannequin becomes independent. It shops with your money. It steals while wearing a face that looks nearly identical to yours, especially from a distance. It calls your friend and says the things you would never say out loud to them. They're thoughts you've had, sure, but you know better than to hurt your friend's feelings...except apparently, you have. And now you can't even use your own voice to explain yourself. Your leg has been getting stiff. Your joints don't bend properly.

Meanwhile, the mannequin is now striding around smoothly. Its appearance is still uncanny and odd if anyone pays attention, but at a glance, it easily passes as a part of the crowd. As its final act, it's even absorbed small bits of your abilities if you have any. Not all of them, but enough to cause trouble. Throughout everything, you cannot harm your hitchhiker. Some unknown force stops you any time you think about it. You simply can't.

Related Incidents

The impact isn't contained only to those directly affected. The hitchhikers' influence spreads through the city. For some incidents, it's difficult to trace back to the source. For others, that's a little easier. Regardless, these occurrences could help you determine how to solve your own situation. Alternatively, if you've escaped unscathed, you can still find yourself dragged into a situation involving someone else.

Return to Sender

July 11 — The Forum: An anonymous poster contributes this bit of information that might catch the eye of those affected. You can try the same method, but it's a risk going back into the diffusion zones. No one can guarantee the specific zone you found the mannequin in is still standing. Further, you have to remember where you made contact to begin with.

If you decide to try it, be sure to take a friend. The less independent the hitchhiker, the more likely it will stick to your side even as you return it home. If the assimilation has progressed too far, though, you might have to utilize methods such as duct taping inside your trunk or strapping it down with ropes. It may struggle and say vile things to you or your companion.

Victimless Burn Victims

July 14 @ 03:00 — The Pavilion (East End): A handful of troublemakers grabbed some freaky mannequins wandering the street and, in a drunken stroke of genius, set them all on fire for no reason other than that they wanted to. Not only has this resulted in damage to the corner store nearby, but Enforcers have linked the incident to four hospitalizations at roughly the same time. Doctors from Saint Margery's Hospital (located in the Blocks) report that all four individuals suffered massive shock and claim to have endured unimaginable agony as if they had been "set on fire."

Curiously, none of them bear any physical wounds and, by all accounts, are completely fine (trauma aside). Notably, all four individuals were also suffering from various stages of "joint stiffness" and "hallucinations"...which have since completely vanished. You might wonder, is this the solution? Or perhaps the better question would be, is it worth it?

The Sculptor

July 15 — The Pavilion (Medical Clinic): Around July 14 onward, word begins to spread that a Dr. Maggie Wright (who insists on being called the Sculptor, though nobody seems to heed this request) will not only do an amputation for free, she will pay you for your limb if you are boasting an "unusual trophic change to the skin, resulting in a smooth and shiny texture." All she asks is she gets to keep the sample. Her promise is that she will study it to find a more permanent cure and, if she does, she will return the limb to you for reattachment.

Some end up trusting her. You wonder, maybe she could help? Dr. Wright will happily accept you as her patient if you agree. Her methods are indeed proper and sterile: she'll put you under and provide you with plenty of pain meds. She appears to have all of the equipment required to preserve the limb, too.

If you're suspicious, you can also pay her a visit, but you won't have much luck getting her in trouble or sniffing out any evidence of nefarious deeds. Her office hasn't got anything strange, she is indeed a real surgeon, and there are testimonials from patients who've had success under her care in the past. Plus, nobody's going to her who isn't doing so voluntarily (they've signed waivers)—even if you could argue how much desperation plays into their decision. Still...the thing about her "title" is a bit weird, right?

Dr. Maggie Wright is 5'2, Caucasian with a light Northeastern accent and silver hair often worn in a bun. She's in her 50s and looks fairly good for her age. Her voice is soothing. She has intense, wide blue eyes, which some might find unnerving, but that's not necessarily her fault.

∞ Notes ∞

• Mannequin contact is not required. Not everybody who goes into the diffusion will make first contact, and many won't. Characters can explore the mall, the temple, and the foggy field without ever picking up a hitchhiker.
• The diffusion zones described are only examples. Others will exist where mannequins can be found, including grocery stores, gas stations, abandoned parks, and more. You can make up your own, but check with us if you have any questions about limitations!
• The speed and intensity of all mechanics are entirely up to you. Generally, the earlier a character makes first contact, the more severe their consequences.
• Investigating the zones or helping others are perfectly fine ways to participate! Since the hitchhikers are meant to be more insidious, it won't be strange if your character isn't in the middle of the action right away or notices things a bit late.

Questions? Ask here

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Comments

☼ / ⏾ — closed to sciel.

[pse]

[ Jimothy "Tornado" Warren, age 43, is a man's man. He wears plaid button up shirts that highlight both his carpet of chest hair and the upper swell of his arms, brought to you by always skipping leg day. He has a beard anyone who's ever memorised whole passages of The Communist Manifesto would envy. When he speaks, his accent is right out of a Guy Ritchie film. (Not that one, though.) Even his adoptive mother calls him Tornado.

He's also been a storm chaser for the last fifteen years, give or take. His car is fully paid off and he's tricked it out with all sorts of nifty gadgets, like a homebrewed sensor that can dictate an influx of diffusion zone energy building up. Also, air conditioning.

As he drives Kimiko and Sciel to the temple, he gives a quick explanation of what he wants them to do. Take pictures, take notes. Measure the interior of the temple as well as the interior. Don't, he warns carefully, take anything back. When they leave, nothing should be in their pockets that wasn't there when they arrived.

Kimiko, bumping around in the backseat as the car bounces over what must be the fiftieth pot hole, listens attentively and nods.

She's relieved to be able to stretch her legs once they arrive. Tornado is kind enough to hand her the measuring tape, a heavy thing held in a shiny silver casing. Both her and Sciel are given protein bars. ]

[foretells]

[ Oof, what a ride. Perhaps they should've come in her car instead. It might not have been able to avoid all of the potholes, but at least in the driver's seat, she'd have felt more in control of the situation. As it stands, it's enough, and she's more than happy to exit the vehicle and take a closer look at the temple.

Right. Don't take anything, leave everything as it was, don't disturb anything unless it's absolutely necessary. She gets all of that. The protein bar, though? A little unsure.

She gives Kimiko a smile. ]

Okay, what's first? What do you want to check out?

[pse]

[ Holding up the measuring tape with one hand, she uses the other to indicate the exterior of the temple. Once they get the measurements Tornado wants, they can look around.

Although their first conversation on the forum had hardly been indicative, the approximately two hour drive out of the city and through the diffusion zone has given Sciel plenty of time to pick up on the fact that Kimiko doesn't — can't, really — speak.

She points to one corner of the temple's exterior, then to herself; then to Sciel, and the adjacent corner. The measuring tape, still safe and unspooled from its casing, is given a shake. Let's see if that makes any sense. If not, she did bring her phone for typing out messages; it's just so awkward, especially when you're dealing with someone classy and historical and Parisian. ]

[foretells]

[ For better or for worse, Sciel can speak enough for the two of them when it matters. For now, though, she gives a nod. She grabs her own measuring tape and gives a little smile. ]

Right, work first. I get a bit excited sometimes.

[ Understatement of the year from someone who decided she'd like to suddenly do arena matches after living a nice, fancy!Parisian lifestyle. She takes her tape and walks to the adjacent corner, giving everything another one (or twice) over with her eyes, her lips turned upwards. It's magnificent, not unlike some of the places she's seen on the Continent, full of dark shadows and a kind of wonder. There's no fear in this girl — or if there is, she isn't showing it. ]

[pse]

[ They work well despite Kimiko's inability to communicate verbally. She is able to get a measurement of the outfacing exterior wall, carefully scribbling the numbers down on a little notebook Tornado gave her for the mission. The rest of the exterior goes just as well, although the back wall is oddly longer than the front entrance by several hundred feet — according to the tape. Subsequently re-measures don't make it make sense. They move on to inside.

Tornado, squatting like a gremlin over some etchings on the far wall, waves to them.

He doesn't seem to have noticed the offerings just beyond the entrance. Impulsively, Kimiko opens the nearest door. The smell of freshly baked cakes wafts over to them. ]

[foretells]

[ The measurements are easy enough. She has them scratched down pretty easily. But she takes her time, not just to take measurements but to get a good look at anything like symbols or signs of repetition. Something that stands out about this place. The tall structures on the Continent have always varied and one area is no more the same than anywhere else, but it's good to know of landmarks or similarities between them.

But a temple and a mall are two different things, so she's mostly wasting her time. Still, Sciel follows them in, keeping an eye on the pathways and the doors. She turns her head when she hears a door open, smelling... Baked goods, warm and inviting.

Her brow furrows. ]

What's that?

[ Tornado doesn't really look up, but does voice: "Hm?" Sciel wanders to Kimiko's side, peering into the room. Inside is what looks to be a bedroom, with candles, fresh-smelling cakes, wine. Her eyebrows shoot up, now suddenly on the defensive. Her fingers twitch, like she's reaching for something that doesn't exist. ]

...I think someone's here. Or they've left something.

[pse]

[ With a glance over her shoulder, Kimiko tries to read Sciel’s expression, to get some sort of foothold whether or not her comrade is suspicious of this room. Her own is a curious little frown as she peers back into the room.

It’s warm. That’s the first way she can think to describe it. There’s a warmth, a personableness of unquestionable invitation; something that catches the eye and draws the feet to move. Pale gauze curtains twitch softly over an unlikely breeze, masking invisible windows. The bed looks soft, the cakes sweet-smelling and covered in delectable frosting. She longs to sit down, rest somewhere more comfortable than the backseat of Tornado’s hectic and leaping vehicle, dig her fingers into the frosting—

Tornado continues to crawl around the opposite wall like Gollum, pressing his fingers into the etchings on the wall with uncomfortable reverence.

Kimiko takes a step into the room, her feet tensely arched — coiled to move, in case of a trap — but when nothing happens, she relaxes.

She scribbles a small message on her notepad and holds it out for Sciel to read. ]

Who could have put this here?

[ That is the question, isn’t it? It doesn’t seem like anyone lives here. Shouldn’t this bedding be damp and fungal with exposure? Shouldn’t the cake be covered in ants or something? ]

[foretells]

[ Sciel waits for Tornado's input but she might as well be talking to a wall; what he's looking at is far, far more important, and so she wanders closer to Kimiko's side. Her right hand is held out carefully, waiting to summon a card if she might truly need it...

But there's no one there. The room is empty, warm as though someone had just been there — even if there is no other exit than the door they've wandered through. She turns her head to look at Kimiko's message, a frown on her face. ]

Don't know, really. But this can't really exist without someone, right?

[ Still, it feels too far-fetched to be a real person, she thinks. They would've seen them, most likely, and the state of the room is...too clean, too warm, like it can't exist in this space or be real. Sciel chews at her bottom lip. ]

It could be an illusion. Or it could be real but... [ Hand gestures! ] ...magic.

[ But both of those require some kind of entity to be orchestrating it. ]

[pse]

[ But magic isn't real, Kimiko thinks.

She doesn't say it, of course. Even if she could, she wouldn't. The world is strange and unbound by her rules, her uneducated understanding. But there's a world of difference between rudely rejected Sciel's premise and coming at this room with hands open. She walks in further, studying the offerings with quiet suspicion: the cakes look good, sure, but the ability to trap someone in a delightful illusion is the least of what she can imagine when it comes to the supes back home.

A quick glance over her shoulder. Tornado is even smaller from so far away, still hunched over his engravings.

This isn't what they came here to do, she remembers. They still need to measure the interior walls. Turning around, she gestures over Sciel's shoulder, toward the threshold of the room. Let's get out of here. ]

[foretells]

[ Sciel remains at the door, watching Kimiko. Her gaze roams around the room, cautious, waiting for something to happen — for a spell to activate, for a Nevron to appear, for a song to start — whatever might indicate if something is there with them. But for the moment, nothing happens. And that's for the best, she thinks, even if there's a sense of unease.

Maybe she's wrong. Maybe this is supposed to be something good...? But her instincts say it's best to leave it alone for the time being.

She only begins to relax when Kimiko comes to join her once more, and she nods. ]

Yeah, let's get back to work. We'll just need to be more careful.

[ Tornado has no idea of what they're doing, lost in his work. Sciel heads to the opposite wall of the room, pulling out her measuring tape. ]

[diademnpc]

The Resident
A monstrosity that does not appear to hail from any familiar world, he stands nearly ten feet tall and is highly aggressive with four arms and a split jaw filled with needle-sharp uneven teeth. His flesh appears smooth but has a sharp grain not unlike a shark's. His presence is heralded by a heavy, acidic musk. Is he native to the planet or is from a place too terrible to name? For many who encounter him, that may be the last question on their minds as they stand frozen in terror. Though fearsome, he is blind and relies on smell and sound to track his prey.


The tantalizing smell will continue to draw Kimiko and Sciel into the room, turning their attention away from what lurks just outside. Maybe "Tornado" should have followed their lead and the scent of fresh pastries and he might have been spared. A light growl, almost a purr rumbles in the temple. Tornado seems to see something and holds up his hands like he's placating a small child. However, it isn't long until a wild scream echoes off the walls of the temple. The illusion in front of the girls flickers in and out as Tornado shouts for help. When they go back to him, they will see long claw marks in the stone, leading around the corner. His sketchbook lays abandoned on the floor.

They can follow the scratch marks and if they do, they will find Tornado in the clutches of the Resident. It seems to be holding him in place with its strange tentacled right hand with its maw splayed open wide above his head. Drool drips from its mangled teeth onto his shoulder, burning his clothing. He yelps in surprise, but when he sees Kimiko and Sciel, there is a spark of hope.

You can:

• Try to save Tornado. As he is clearly the Resident's next meal, the creature will try to keep hold of him in its right "hand" while it battles the girls. It will make wide swings with its claws and may spit out acidic bile to keep them at bay. Despite their best efforts, it will eventually make its way up to the ceiling with Tornado in tow. There, it will quickly try to consume him in order to stop them from taking away its dinner. As he dangles above the floor screaming, the Resident will snap him in half at the abdomen, sending down a rain of blood (possibly hitting the girls like they're starring in Carrie), before eating Tornado from the inside out.
  
  
• Watch what happens. The Resident doesn't seem to notice them, so preoccupied with its potential meal. They can see it open its mouth even wider and start to swallow Tornado whole like a snake, head first. Unfortunately, this doesn't kill him so they will get to hear his muffled cries as the Resident gulps him down. Eventually, either by suffocation or by the acidic secretions that come out from the creature's digestive tract, Tornado will finally expire. If they make noise, the Resident will turn its attention to them. It will be very bloated like a snake post-meal, so they will be able to make a speedy exit if they want.
  
  

If you have any questions, please let us know.