Who: Darkleer, along with Disciple, the Grand Highblood, and anyone else who tries to pay him a visit
When: Throughout the week
Where: Darkleer's room
Status: Open to a few
Style: Whatever
Warning: Some descriptions of gore spoken by a douchebag nightmare

Ever since Monday night, Darkleer hadn't left his room. He hadn't let others come, either. It probably didn't help that he had barricaded the door, left Summoner outside to be cared for by Dural and the robots. He... He couldn't trust himself with his unconscious matesprit. He couldn't trust himself with the boys, either, or anyone else he knew.

How could he?

Not when, at night, a vision of himself covered in blood and toying with gory trophies whispered to himself about how easy it would be to kill them all, how good it would feel. Not when, in the morning, Darkleer couldn't stop obsessing over it, driving his thoughts around in circles. Sometimes, speaking with others helped. It almost felt as if the other stopped talking to him, stopped toying with his own much longer hair, but Darkleer was half sure that was just in his head.

Sometimes he feels guilty, thinking of the boys, but...

He couldn't be trusted.

So in his room he stayed, trying to ignore thoughts that had mocked him for a very, very long time.

Who: Tiir and vatheon
Where: The forest.
When: 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—]

Who: Johnny and OPEN
When: Evening
Where: Edge of the plaza
Warning: Mention of rape and gore in the comments likely.
Status: Open

[Johnny sat, back to the wall of an alley, knees drawn to his chest, and the phantom weight of someone who shouldn't be there resting against him.

When the demon first showed up, Johnny had panicked, thinking the time had finally come when Barry showed up in the bubble and ruined everything Johnny had here. He'd run, but no matter where he'd gone, Barry had always been there. The demon had talked and talked to Johnny...but he'd yet to rip into the vampire and that told him more than anything that this wasn't real.

Even talking to Fai, realizing it was a walking nightmare, he had refused to reach out. If he admitted that Barry was there, that he was still deathly terrified of the demon, then that would mean admitting he was still under the incubus' control. He would always be under Berry's -Belial's- control. No matter what he tried to tell himself.

That was how he found himself curled into a ball, face buried in his arms, as the demon made himself comfortable and told Johnny everything he didn't want to hear; he was a monster, unfit for the friends he had, he only put them in danger by being around them, they would all die anyway, why get close? All he needed was Barry...]

Addie~ You belong to me, Addie. We were made for each other~ You know that....no one else should come between us~

[Johnny shook his head weakly, the fight long since sucked out of him. He just wanted it to all go away.]

Go away....please.

Who: Rand and anyone
When: Sunday! Afternoon
Where: Plaza
Style: Brackets
Status: Open

[ At the plaza, there is a very happy black foot ferret trying to wear a large hat.

by 'trying to wear', its clear that the ferret has decided that this is his hat, and is currently dragging it about and spazzing every few steps in gleeful ferretness.

Its also missing a paw, but that doesn't seem to be causing it any problems. ]

Who: Sarah Zellaby and Open!
Where: Around the city
When: October 20th
What: Sarah is a giant wasp. And also a telepath.
Style: Use what you're comfortable with.
Note: Please fill out her permission post if you haven't yet since it's pretty important here.

[This is the first curse Sarah's experienced, and it's not a comfortable one. Even beyond the fact that she's had her body suddenly changed to look like an Apraxis wasp of all things, there's the fact that unlike some people she's managed to set up her device to show, she can't still talk. At least she's a telepath, which does lend her some options when it comes to these things.

For those who are susceptible to her active telepathy, they'll think they see her walking towards them, looking like she usually does when she looks human, and opening her mouth to ask a question.]

Can you tell me a little about the curses in this place?

[Those with defenses -- natural or a random result of the weakening the coral does to her powers -- will just see a wasp the size of a shoe buzzing around.]

Who: Sufferer and everyone crashing at Dualscar's hive this week
When: throughout the curse week
Where: Dualscar's hive, which he's now sharing with two freeloading holy bros
Style: whatever
Status: pretty open

( To talk of many things )

Who: Aizen Sosuke (fakegod) // Grell Sutcliff (reaper2die4).
Where: around the City.
When: backdated to Friday evening.
Style: [ACTION]
Status: [CLOSED]
Warning: none (yet).

[Tonight finds Aizen standing near the Coral, protecting himself from the rain under a pristine and white umbrella, waiting. Once again, he left his usual hakama for a very elegant suit, certain to please his date.

The chosen one ? Grell Sutcliff, one of the most interesting and intriguing persons of Vatheon, a dark and red creature who recently caught his attention.

And she is late.]

Who: Zelos and whoever!
Where: Ordo 2 & 3
When: Today, all day
Style: Brackets
Status: Open to those who have a reason to be at casa de Zel.

[It's not unusual for Zelos to be seen puttering around Ordo at all hours. What is unusual is that this week, he's been displaying some... odd behaviors, even for him.

While the Chosen doesn't usually sleep, many times this week he can be caught sprawled out across the couch, the armchair, even in one strange case the bottom step of the staircase with his tail twitching slightly. As the week went on, he'd purposely plant himself in the way of certain people, going so far as to sit on a pile of Zelda's papers in a silent demand for attention.

He's also been cooking quite a lot of fish lately...

Granted this wouldn't be so strange if he had fully transformed into a cat. Of course, the bubble had only seen fit to give him the ears and a tail and therefore it's pretty ridiculous.

Today, being a day he has off from the host club, finds Zelos curled up against one of the big front windows in the morning and generally pestering people for most of the rest of the day, save for the thirty minute nap he takes in the basket of dryer-fresh-and-warm laundry (this seems to be a running gag in this household).

Perhaps he's taken the time to come pester you, fellow resident?]

Who: Dhaos and you!
Where: the park
When: Wednesday afternoon to evening
Style: starting with [ ], can switch to prose
Status: open


[If anyone were to wander the park today, they might glimpse a rather unusual sight.

Many worlds tell tale of the creature known as the unicorn. They tell of its majesty and purity; a being that is the symbol of innocence. It seems that the cures has deigned to transform a certain individual into one...from the waist down. Yessir, Dhaos' torso seems to be growing out of the neck of a white horse. The only tip-offs to his status as a unicorn are the rather lion-like tail, cloven hooves, and the fairly small (but quite pointy, as the shirt he had ruined in a failed attempt to put some sort of clothing on would attest) horn sprouting from his forehead.

He appears to be playing with some assorted wildlife at the moment. Bother him?]

Who: Radical Edward
When: Throughout the week.
Where: Around the bubble.
Style: Starting prose, I will follow you.
Status: Open

A strange sight will greet the denizens of the bubble. Well, just as strange as anything else going on during this week. The sight is that of two Pembroke Welsh Corgis roaming around the bubble. The first of which might have been seen around the bubble before, A basic brown corgi who carries himself like most dogs would. The second is a more reddish corgi who seems to be incapable of sitting still. It bounces, twirls, and makes a nuisance of itself towards the first corgi; This includes climbing on, biting, and knocking over the other exasperated corgi.

Edward has been turned into a corgi, she cannot speak, and she is having the time of her life! Ein is not as amused.