Head Nurse ~Medica~, Kurloz, Bro, Shirley, Laharl, Grimmjow, Yotsuba, Renge, and Kanaya
When: So late at night that it's morning, 7/15 (7/16 technically)
Where: A secret lair that stands where the church used to be
["Medica" (as the Head Nurse is now calling herself) waits in the church-turned-lair for all the selected villains to make their undoubtedly flashy entrances. She seems as cool and collected as ever, though if one takes a very close look at her there is something just a little different.
Perhaps she's a wee bit excited.
The lair itself seems to be a bit of a catch-all, containing all the things a good villain might need. Creepy monitors overlooking the city, doomsday devices, eerie labs, a place to keep hostages, places to store loot and anything else the enterprising evil-doers can think up. There seems to be a section tailored to each villain. Clearly, Medica intends to work together.]
((Consider this as a bit of an IC mingle for the villains to meet and greet! After all, there's no badge identifying good and evil. Time to make alliances! Heroes are welcome to try and sneak in if they dare, but they definitely aren't invited...))
- Tags:!curse 46: super heroes, !npc - head nurse, bro strider, gamzee makara, grimmjow jaegerjaquez, kanaya maryam, kurloz makara, laharl, renge houshakuji, rose lalonde, shirley fennes, yotsuba koiwai
Who: Walter and anyone
When: 5th, morning
[The change is gradual and starts with faint discomfort when it actually affects him. The onset of something more severe begins much later.
Walter glimpses the network between then: I believe this week some of you might begin feeling a little chilly if you don't have physical contact with someone. He throws the communicator aside after that, and ignores the clatter of the thing against a table as he folds his arms.
He endures through Thursday, but by Friday, his senses have dulled and he doesn't quite see it or his paling complexion.
Something compels him to visit the island that morning. His gait on the way is more languid than that of his usual march, and he moves with a deaf ear to his surroundings, his inattentiveness being cause for the rare bump (or close call) into another denizen of Vatheon. But he cares little for the error and moves on without so much as a glance when it happens. He's strong yet – there's nary a stumble throughout the whole ordeal.
When he reaches shore, Walter sits where the tides reach. Perhaps it is against his better judgment, but his mind is a haze and why should he not sit there in the seawater? It belongs to the sea. He belongs to the sea.
His head rolls to the side in a fit of exhaustion, his ear brushing against the fabric of his attire. He's tired. Odd, considering he has neither fought nor trained recently, and he should be accustomed to a few hours of sleep; but he's tired nonetheless, the feeling reminding him of another time . . . a time he can't recall . . .]
Who: Laharl and anyone!
Where: City residential districts
Style: I'll match~
Amidst the relocation of residents to the bubble is a sight which... probably isn't that strange, by Vatheon standards: that of a demon hauling a coffin through the streets. He doesn't seem to be having any difficulty carrying it, because he isn't, but he is awfully annoyed about having to.
Unlike most everyone else, whose places are just a little waterlogged, his entire building was deemed unfit for use. Maybe it was the water damage, or maybe it was the growing rat problem. Either way, he has to find someplace else.
"Maybe I should've just stayed on the damn island..."
Who: Radical Edward and her dog Ein, plus anyone who wants to join.
Style: Starting Action, will follow prose if you prefer.
[A curious sight will greet the visitors of the bubble. A scrawny young girl sitting at a small table in the plaza. The table has two seats, which she is currently occupying one of. On the table is a peculiar fish-themed chess set.
[The board is set up, but with no moves currently made on it. The black pieces are facing towards the girl. The chair across from her, in front of the white pieces, is currently empty. She is staring at the board, waiting.
[Next to her, on the ground, is a brown welsh corgi. He seems to be occupying himself by exploring the immediate area around the plaza, but for the most part, sticks within sight distance of the girl at the table.
Who: Walter and Tiir, and you
When: 26th, morning
[It's a fine morning in Vatheon, as per the usual, and Walter is out and about, crossing the plaza to the coral. He stops before the local deity, then raises his left hand to reach for one of its tips.
Meanwhile, Tiir also happens to be making his usual trip to the coral—though perhaps atypical in this case, as he doesn't often run into Walter while doing so. For a moment, he pauses, recognizing the boy immediately.]
Ah, it’s you. You look well.
[Glancing up, Walter only gives that silent indication of having heard Tiir before returning his attention to Lamufao. Despite being mostly ignored, Tiir simply smiles, as he's used to Walter's dismissive attitude by now. Seeing as how Walter's presence hasn't bothered him before, he continues moving towards the coral, reaching out to touch it.
The top of Walter's left hand glows past his sleeves; likewise, Tiir's own marking glows from underneath his sleeve. Glancing at it, Tiir moves to pull his hand away from the coral when the tips of his fingers seem to brush against something—but it's such a minute detail, what does that matter? As he tries to move, however, he finds himself being pulled in the opposite direction as his hand twists at an odd angle. Similarly, the weight of Tiir moving the other way draws Walter back, his hand outstretched behind him.
And before anyone knows it, there's a splash and the fountain is occupied with a torso full of Tiir in the water, choking for breath, while Walter, still dry, pushes himself up and off of Tiir's chest—though getting out completely proves fruitless when their fingertips are stuck together.]
( ooc: Tagging order is you → Tiir → Walter! )
Tiir and vatheonWhere:
Night of Oct. 29.Style: [please—]Status:
Open![... In the end, he couldn't get away even in this world, could he?
Even though Tiir knows none of this is real—that man isn't real—he doesn't feel safe staying at the base. Or rather, he doesn't feel that anyone there is safe—not when he remembers what happened before, and he remembers all too well. And so, as he has a tendency to do, he escapes into the forest, leaping across the tops of the trees in hopes that he can somehow outrun this. Of course, it ultimately proves futile once he lands on the ground, as the familiar taunting resumes.
He wants so badly to ignore it, but he can't. Still, he doesn't bother looking at his hallucination, and merely responds by muttering—]
I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you
...![... Hence why anyone who has the misfortune of encountering him should be on guard, since he certainly is. Upon sensing the new presence, he assumes the worst and thus reacts according to instinct.
That is, with inhuman speed, he lunges in an attempt to grab their throat—]