Beyond Evolution

11/27 - The outbreak continues unabated. The few mutant teams there are in the world are now all deploying healers to various Western Africa countries.

12/1 - The outbreak has been largely contained thanks to the large external support of not just mutants but human doctors and healthcare workers administering vaccines. Several countries have been decimated, though.

12/2 - With the help of volunteers, all of the Christmas decorations for the year are put up.


11/19/22 - 11/25/22
11/12/22 - 11/18/22
11/5/22 - 11/11/22
11/1/22 - 11/4/22

10/15 - A package is left for CHARACTER B. It’s another Grandma’s Antique’s delivery, right to their door: Crying Boy painting ((ooc comment below if youd like to have your character receive it!))

10/16 - When everyone wakes up, they discover the mansion has turned into (an expanded version of) the house from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Its characters are roaming inside, and remember: they’re all just as deadly as Leatherface, and much more twisted. Network does work, but only for the journals, and no one can teleport out or use other powers that would allow them to leave. The family doesn’t seem to be able to die. Lasts 24 hours.

10/17 - Colin’s pumpkin body comes back for 3 days. All of the plumbing has snakes coming out of it. Sink faucets, shower pipes once the heads have been taken off have snakes pouring out, they are in all of the toilets, and so on. They don’t respond to animal compulsion. Lasts for 24 hours.

10/18 - The forest comes alive and starts slowly creeping up on the school from the side. Sinister, like the corn field, but in a different way. Dark and tangled and foreboding.

10/19 - A man shows up at the school looking for help, and anyone who offers is immediately transported to an old, run down farmhouse with no weapons or powers, where they have to fend off a number of cryptids (your choice which!). This lasts for a day.

10/20 - Rain starts coming down. Normal rain, but when it touches anyone it begins to melt them like they’re witches in the Wizard of Oz.

10/21 - Powers are gone! A bad time for it, as werewolves, vampires, and green-skinned witches are descending upon the school.

No headers from us this time, just put in the subject line roughly when it is, if you want to!

Midday, multiple portals are going to open up and a great deal more of the tentacle monsters come out than came out originally. Along with them are ten of THESE things, who seem to be the ones in charge. They are capable of paralyzing anyone that meets their eyes, summoning elements, and forcing the opposite side to fight each other instead of the bad guys. Most dangerously though, they also have the capacity to use their central eye to project a field that cancels the effects of all mutant abilities within a cone of 150 feet in length around them.

There will be a post going up soon for non-team members to talk on, but the entries there don’t count towards activity. On that note, keep in mind that only posts happening before midnight will count for activity this month (that's why this is going up so early!).

Enjoy!

“I do.”

Luke had felt like he’d become unattached from the real world all day. Yesterday too. All month, if he was honest. It wasn’t that he felt disconnected from what was going on, it was a more surreal feeling than that, a wonderful feeling, like he no longer had to hold both hands on the steering wheel to keep his life on track because some great unseen hand had gently taken him in its grip to usher him on towards his destiny. This was the moment his whole life had been leading to. The exact place in space and time he was supposed to be. He’d felt like he was drifting on clouds.

And now he was standing in a perfectly pressed suit on his precious front lawn at the school, holding the hands of the love of his life as they declared their commitment to each other in front of all the people they cared about most. Everyone was here, both their families seated along the front row, their mothers who’d been worryingly thick as thieves since being introduced, Luke’s brothers and their partners, both their dads, a sprinkle of aunts and cousins. Backing them up were the hordes of Xavier’s School inhabitants. Linus and Luke had invited everyone and most of them had shown up. It made his breath short to glance out at their audience and know that they weren’t gathered here for a memorial this time. This was a happy occasion. The best.

There were flowers everywhere, some grown by Luke himself, others encouraged into bloom by helpful plant manipulators. Feathers of pink blossom floated on the air. It was a beautiful day too, thanks to further intervention from atmokinetics, rendering the sky bright and warm and summery in defiance of the month. Kurt stood before them, having graciously agreed to officiate for them. Paige was at his side, with strict instructions to catch him if he fainted. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

But it all paled in comparison with the man before him. There had been so many times in Luke’s life when he’d never believed he could be happy. Never believed he deserved such a thing. He spent half his life waiting to die, then the next half wishing he had. And then he’d met Linus Sinker and in an instant, everything had changed. Linus made sense of it all, put all his broken parts back in their proper places, and now they could stand up in front of everyone they knew and say this is all we need, this is our everything.

Their vows had passed between them like a dream made real, and Luke felt a bubble of laughter spill from his throat into the air, too happy to hold it in. He needed to say those two words again.

“Forever, always, I do.” Luke squeezed Linus’s hands, giddy. They were about to be pronounced as husband and husband, and everything they’d been through, together and before, shrank away under the light of this one idyllic moment.

[ Rapid fire! Wait for Linus to tag first though, obv. :D There’s food and music both outside and inside for the rest of the day, and the summery weather will last into the night. <3 ]

Maybe it was nothing but luck, maybe the devils who ran October around these parts had randomly taken pity on her, or maybe it was a result of dogged bloody-mindedness, but somehow Irina had found her way from her own room to that occupied by Pizer and Buddy. Getting to the medlabs seemed a journey too far so she’d quickly abandoned that idea, reasoning that teleporters would be able to get her to anyone in need of aid. Teleportation seemed to be a bit hit or miss right now but she told herself it would be fine. She had to believe that, it was the only option open to her so she would have to make the best of it. For now, however, no medical alerts were chiming so she was able to bunker down with her friend and wait for the labyrinthine corridors and walls to realign themselves into a more recognisable pattern.

The fact that this a-maze-ing turn of events hadn’t righted itself at the 24 hour mark was less than encouraging, but she’d brought enough provisions with her to Pizer’s room to last them a few days so she was trying not to worry too much. And, generally, succeeding. One skill long-timers at Xavier’s learned was to never worry too much. Fall victim to that and she’d never get out of bed in the mornings.

“Do you hear that?” Irina wrinkled her nose in concentration as she twisted in her seat, a small armchair in the very corner of the room that had been positioned there entirely for her to sit in whenever she visited, leaving Pizer free to roam around his room as he wished without having to worry too much about making accidental contact with her. Again, there was no need for him to spend all his time worrying too much.

She continued to stare at the wall for a moment, attention captured fully. “There. Can you hear it?” For some reason, the scratching sound she could hear had a shiver crawling up her spine, but Irina wasn’t too scared. Pizer was here, and she always felt safe in his company. Many would assume she’d made a beeline for his room at the start of this latest wacky crisis because she wanted to take care of him, but that was only partially true. Pizer took care of her in return, more than people understood. She pushed herself up from the chair, leaning closer to the wall, her ear an inch from the smooth surface. Scritch scritch, scrape scrape. “What is that?”

[ PIZER ]

Despite what appearances may have lead people to think, Pizer loved puzzles. It was true that concentrated thoughts and linear progressions were difficult for him, but actual physical puzzles had turned out to be something that he quite liked. It had started off simply enough, as an exercise recommended by Mickey to Irina and Karo. Just 25 piece puzzles, easy things to put together. But he’d actually progressed quickly, moving up to 50 pieces, and then 100. He’d slowed down at that point, the number of pieces overwhelming him a bit. But then his caretakers, his friends, had started helping and with that weight off his shoulders he was back to increasing in numbers. 250. And, now, his first 500 piece.

He was sorting through the pieces methodically, taking out the edges and setting them to the side. Sometimes, having a task like this would make him fall silent with concentration. But sometimes it actually helped to open him up. “...When does it stop snowing, here?” He knew, of course, that it did eventually stop and get warm again, but he wasn’t sure where in winter they were, or how much was left. Last year’s, to the best of his recollection, had been longer than the year before.

Near him, Buddy’s tail wagged a bit. He liked the snow, especially when Pizer didn’t need him as much and he was able to roll around and run in it. Pizer picked up one of the pieces that had a part of the artist’s signature on it, and matched it to the other, putting them together. “I should take him out the next time it gets heavy.” Full sentences -- this sort of therapy really was working. His good days had definitely started to move on a slow uptick.

(Open to Irina!)

WHO: Harry Pizer and Aaron Salomon
WHEN/WHERE: Afternoon; The gladiatorial arena
WHAT: Two men enter, one man leaves.

( This was what he was made for. )

Sometimes the patterns on the ceiling changed for Pizer. Staring at them long enough, they could begin to swirl and move, shifting back and forth, catching his interest for hours. But now they were still. He’d been staring up at the ceiling from his bed, one hand resting on his stomach, feeling the slight rise and fall of his breathing. Rhythmic. Calming. His mind wasn’t racing for once. His pills hadn’t been touched. Buddy lay sleeping nearby, not needed at the moment. And the ceiling was still.

He was as surprised as anyone else would be.

He hadn’t handled the news well, at first. The world was ending, and that inspired a severe sort of panic that couldn’t be helped. Mutant-killing weapons. Whenever they were mentioned, he knew what that meant. His mutation. Taken, experimented with, synthesized. But, ultimately, impossible to fully replicate. He’d been sold before, and eventually he would be sold again, to power more of those things. It was only a matter of time. Buddy had calmed his rocking, had shoved his head to be in the way of Pizer’s fist hitting his chest over and over again, licked his face to get rid of his tears. Stayed with him, patient, for as long as he’d needed.

( He didn't know what was different about this time compared to others. )

(Irina!)

Today was a good day. Pizer had woken up at around eight, like always, and had started the routine that he’d gotten used to at Xavier’s. He liked routine. It was something for him to hold onto when the world started making no sense. Making his bed, changing his clothes, eating breakfast that was brought to his room so that the cafeteria wouldn’t overwhelm him or have him accidentally touching others. They’d tried to bring him down during larger times but it worked best with the smallest groups being there, before or after the main meals. So every other day he simply had food in his room, that Karo or Irina brought.

He was really into reading now, too. His powers allowed him to touch a page and know what was written on it, which made the reading part easier, but he still got confused and mixed things up more often than not, so reading out loud the words he already knew were there was what happened. Sometimes with Karo or Irina they’d switch off with him and reading out loud, pausing every now and then to summarize what had happened, make sure he was still on the same page that they were. Then his shows started around one, and though daytime soaps probably weren’t the best representation of normal behavior he seemed to like them and it was good progress that he was able to understand all of their plots. Karo usually joined him for that, with snacks. Then he had a standing appointment with the new physical therapist. They weren’t sure the pain would ever fully go away, although it had gone down a great deal since he’d first arrived, and his scars had him wanting to move slightly differently. So he went to Milton to correct that. Then, depending on the day, a nap until dinner time, then a shower and bed. All easy steps, but still things that required the help of Irina and Karo because he could get overwhelmed or lost in his own mind if things changed.

There was a slight change today, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t feeling like napping but didn’t want to study through books, so he hastily scrawled a location on a piece of paper to let Irina and Karo know where he was going before he took Buddy on his lead to the back.

He was seated at the edge of the pool now, his feet dangling in the water with no regard for the fact that his jeans were getting wet in the process. Buddy lay beside him, panting in the heat. Pizer had ice cream cone in one hand and was handling it by taking a lick and then offering it over for Buddy to have a lick too.

It was such a nice day out, and he felt like he didn’t get to appreciate that often enough.

(Open!)

Things were getting easier at Xavier’s. Not easy the way that a neurotypical person would find it. But he was satisfied with his small wins — and, more importantly, he felt like they were coming more often.

His mind (on a good day) connected more than it otherwise did. He was able to know and understand time, be expecting people like Carolina and Irina rather than simply being surprised by their appearance. He knew when to take Buddy out for walks instead of Buddy needing to tell him. He even did the dishes in his sink — or, well, he washed the plastic knife, spoon, and fork that he’d been given. No use in washing a paper plate. Days when he could watch TV and actually follow it, something like E! News (real news was too stressful, so celebrity news it was). When he could actually say what he wanted instead of just accepting the easy food that was brought to him.

There had even been a few nights when he didn’t have nightmares about where he’d been.

He still wore his hoodie, as much to keep others safe as it was a familiar token that lended him confidence. His hands were mostly hidden in the sleeves, half of his fingers free thanks to fingerless gloves. Buddy was another familiar comfort. He had the dog’s leash and had just finished their second walk of the afternoon, when they were headed back inside. As was their tradition, Pizer would open the door and Buddy would go in to assess the situation. One bark meant he was alone. Two meant that at least one other person was there. Three… well, three meant something bad was happening and Buddy was headed right back to help get his human to safety.

Only one bark this time though, and so Pizer slowly entered the kitchen area, stepping into the pantry to grab several water bottles for his room, when he heard Buddy bark, twice. He pulled the hoodie over his head, shoving the bottles into his front pouch. Tugging on Buddy’s lead, he started to go in the opposite direction of the person that had come in, but then he wasn’t paying enough attention to the hallway, and he stumbled and fell against someone. The force of it pushed his sleeves up some, and it was only a matter of seconds before the screaming. He knew, from experience.

(Ellery!)

The Hive was a monstrous place in many respects; the word massive didn't do it justice, it was a sprawling thing, a metal spider laying on the ground, legs sticking out at all angles, towers reaching into the dark sky, red lights blinking in places. There were no windows, Sentinels didn't seen windows. There was a constant humming noise, a low rumbled that permeated the ground and spoke to the churning insides of the enormous base, the central hub of all Sentinel thought and consciousness; the Sentinel presence itself was heavy, if they possessed the ability to think of a place as home this would be it and there were hundreds of them going about their tasks. A new section was being built on the East side of the complex and without fatigue or boredom the Sentinels worked on it day and night and day again without pause. It was an awful place. The air smelled like death.

It was twilight, the perpetual state of the twilight that the world existed in underneath the choking cloud, and the teams and their allies moved from their rendezvous point where they had gathered having travelled from the camps by various means, flying teleportation, vehicles. They each had an IFF unit on them somewhere, they had been passed out and clipped to jackets, stuffed in pockets, slung around necks on cords, they were made out of scrap and had been hastily fashioned in the semi-dark but they all worked, they would all do the job of getting everyone past those sensors without the Sentinels realising that the enemy wasn't just at the gates, they were through the gates and they were tearing the walls to pieces. They knew how to do this, they had been fighting Sentinels for years, all generations would be here for them to take to pieces but they had fought all generations at one point or another. Perhaps it had always been leading to this, from the moment the assassination had taken place they had been heading here, to this, their timeline on track for disaster. Perhaps not. Perhaps they could change all that today.

The team with the bomb disappeared into the murky dying night. The retrieval team left too. It was just the front line left, the battering ram, the distraction. They had to keep the focus of the Sentinels on them, even with the cloaking tech, even with the IFF letting them all bypass the security without triggering an alert, they needed to be certain that the focus of the machines was on them, not turned inwards. Grim looks were exchanged, a few pats on the back or handshakes, hugs, whatever anyone needed in the last few seconds of quiet before this thing got underway.

There was a low whistle over their comm units. A signal. Then the attack began.

They launched themselves at the Sentinels, moving forwards in a surge, a wave, a tidal force of mutant power and solidarity, of fire and grief and light, burning through the wretched gloom of twilight.

[ FRONTAL ASSAULT: OPEN TO TUNNELS & SILO VISITORS PLUS X-MEN ALPHA / X-MEN BETA / X-MEN GAMMA ]

Irina coughed but it didn't seem to make a difference. There'd been a tickle at the back of her primary throat ever since she woke up this morning and she couldn't shift it. She hoped she wasn't coming down with a cold, keeping up with the whirlwind of a new life in college was difficult enough thanks to the aliens robbing her of her opportunity to prepare for it, the last thing she needed was to be forced to take time out with the sniffles. She cleared her throat again. ( The tickle remained. )

[ PIZER ]

From the ground, the destruction of the Skrull mothership looked like a supernova. It was higher than the warships, too far up in the atmosphere to be seen clearly, but when it blew the light overhead was blinding; the wave of sound that hit a few moments later rattled the ground under humanity's feet. Pieces of it rained down, burning up in the atmosphere like shooting stars, a few of them making it to the ground for one last strike at the people below. For a few moments, the fighting stopped just to watch as it flared and burned down to nothing.

And then, the Skrull fighters began to pull back.

The retreat was as quick and coordinated as the attack had been. Fighters let themselves be driven back now, defending themselves as they made their way back to the drop ships but making no effort to take any further ground; the drop ships that could still fly lifted off almost in unison to return to the warships they had poured out of only hours before. Those who couldn't evacuate were left behind. The air still rang with gunfire as the echoes of that massive explosion faded, but the tide had turned now, the humans and Kree were firing on retreating ships that seemed to have given up their assault. Fire from the warships had stopped completely, and they hung in the air like only their most basic systems were still functioning. Minutes later, as the last of the hangar doors on the warships slammed shut, a message broadcast over every available frequency, in the language of every major fighting force.

They wanted to broker a peace treaty.

Their terms were almost insultingly simple, after so much bloodshed. They wanted Dorrek VIII, the heir to the Skrull throne, someone none of the world leaders had ever even heard of. They wanted their surviving fighters left on the ground to be returned to them. Give them that, and they would agree to peace and withdraw their ships from Earth's atmosphere. Custody of Dorrek VIII would be further negotiated with the Kree -- he belonged to them too, and was more important to both than the humans could fathom -- but the human world leaders didn't care about any of that. They only cared about the uneasy peace this treaty could bring.

The treaty was signed with gritted teeth and battered pride, humans and aliens agreeing to peace in the face of mutually assured destruction. Already, all sides were working out contingency plans in case this all went south, but as the negotiation concluded it seemed like the peace might actually be holding. If "peace" was really the word when so many cities were in smoking ruin and the ground was stained with human and alien blood. It wasn't the great, glorious invasion that the Skrull had imagined, or the decisive victory the human resistance might have had in a Hollywood movie. It was bloodier and longer in coming than the Knights of the Infinite and their Kree allies had hoped for. But the killing had stopped, all sides could tend to their wounded and collect their dead, and maybe that was all that really mattered.

Negotiations between the Skrull and the Kree over Dorrek VIII were more complicated. He was more important than their ancient war; the Skrulls were willing to level the planet and likely sacrifice most of their own forces to get to him, but the Kree had gotten there first, and that meant they had the power. They could demand a cease-fire, a peace treaty between their races as well, and the Skrull couldn't risk what might happen to their heir if they refused. Any further bloodshed, and he would never set foot on their planet. Swallowing their pride for a second time, they once again agreed to peace, and the young heir would belong equally to the Kree and the Skrulls.

Dorrek VIII himself didn't have much of a choice. But then, that had already been worked out behind the scenes, in secret meetings between the Knights of the Infinite while the humans and the Skrulls were busy brokering peace. They hadn't tried to persuade Teddy Altman to give up everything he knew, everyone he loved, and spend the rest of his life being shuttled back and forth between two hostile alien races -- maybe he would have agreed, maybe not, but there was no guarantee and a guarantee was what they needed right now. More than that, they needed someone they could trust to continue working for peace on both planets. Someone of their own. For reasons more pragmatic than kind, a Skrull sympathizer had already agreed to take Teddy's form and return with them to play his part. It would have to look real to everyone on the outside. Nobody, not even Teddy's husband, could know the truth until both the Kree and the Skrull had left Earth. Teddy had been hidden away, and it was his Skrull doppelganger who boarded the ship in full view of Xavier's and let the door shut behind him.

All across the globe, Skrull and Kree ships began to withdraw. Corsair had business of his own on Earth, and the Starjammer remained on the grounds of Xavier's; likewise, Xavin would remain a while longer before departing. Not everything could be solved in a day. But the war, at least, was over.

[OPEN TO BILLY/TEDDY FIRST, THEN EVERYONE!]

Earth's atmosphere was crowded with ships. The Skrull warships, looming like waiting predators over major cities in every country, casting shadows the size of the cities themselves. Beneath them, the haze of drop ships bearing their cargo of Skrull warriors to the ground. The first of them had already landed, but as the soldiers they carried made their way into the fight there were still more pouring forth, filling the skies in an ugly jumble of metal and exhaust. And now, the second wave of human fighter jets, going in guns blazing as what remained of the first wave still smoked on the ground. They had made the mistake of being cautious before; they wouldn't make it again. But they were badly outnumbered, and one by one the Skrull warships were targeting them and taking them down.

Overhead, the sky darkened just a fraction more -- it looked like dusk in some of the more populated areas, they sk was a patchwork of gray, it was hard to even tell where the newest arrivals had appeared. To most of the people down below, all the ships looked the same.

But to the Skrull fighters, to Xavin, to Hannah Altman if she could still see the skies, they were something very different.

They were Kree.

The Kree ships opened fire almost the moment they uncloaked, and in all the chaos, it might have taken the people below a moment to realize that they were firing on the Skrulls. The long, bloody history between the Skrull and the Kree wouldn't mean anything to those on Earth, but they were about to reap the benefits. More than that -- in among the Kree ships were a few smaller fighters whose weapons were hybrids, just like the teams piloting them. The Knights of the Infinite had bided their time, waiting for the moment when they might stand a chance at ending the Kree-Skrull war for good, and this was it. Because somewhere on the planet below was Dorrek VIII, Kree-Skrull hybrid and heir to the Skrull throne, the one who could wield Excelsior and unite the two enemy empires.

Some of the Kree ships swooped in for a quick landing, Kree and hybrid warriors pouring out to join the fight on the ground, while others stayed in the sky to lend their support to the human fighter jets. With their almost-human appearance, the Kree could just about blend in in all this chaos -- their blue-skinned brethren stayed in the sky for now, and maybe that would help convince the humans that these new arrivals were on their side. Only minutes after their ships had first appeared, radios worldwide were chattering with new orders. New ships are friendlies. Do not engage. If people actually listened, this might just be enough to turn the tide.

Weaving in and out of the chaos, its flight path distinctly more daredevil than the military precision of the Skrull and the Kree, was one more ship. The name painted on the side of it was Starjammer. The crew inside were races nobody on Earth had ever seen or heard of -- except for one, and he was the reason they too were lending their firepower to Earth's defense. He called himself Corsair. When the dust settled, if the people of Earth and their new allies managed to push the Skrulls back and save themselves, there were people at Xavier's who might know him, from pictures at least, by another name. Christopher Summers.

If, that is, they managed to push the Skrulls back.

[OPEN TO ALL THOSE STILL AT THE SCHOOL,
INCLUDING ANYONE LATER HEADING FOR THE TUNNELS!]

Pizer was a special case for a lot of things, although typically for the same reason. He didn't usually go to the group power training exercises, for one thing -- not only was his mutation specifically deadly to the other people in the room with him (including children and students), but even with the best of intentions it couldn't be promised that he wouldn't grab or touch one of the other mutants, purposefully or not. His training, at least for the time being, was specifically one-on-one, and focused on things like trying to get him to be able to remember things for sustained periods of time, hold focus, clear his mind, and so on. Basic exercises for most other people, but difficult for him; and, at the same time, things that he would have to be able to master if there was to be any hope for a power evolution that might grant him the ability to touch other mutants without harming them. It wasn't a hope that held much weight, given his age and the fact that his powers had seemed fairly well-developed before he'd been abducted, but it was a goal, at least.

He'd come to be as familiar with his power sessions as he was with the other things that he did at the school. They weren't as frequent as things like seeing Karo, or Dr. Darcy examining his injuries, or working with Kai physically. But they were frequent enough that he knew to expect them now; they'd become a part of his weekly routine, if not his daily, and were things that he trusted.

And trusted even more when Irina was added to the picture.

She'd told him that she was going to help him, and he didn't need much more of an explanation than that. He liked Irina, and would have done just about anything that she asked without question as it was. It made sense to him that she would start taking over in the Danger Room, because anything that a familiar face like hers was attached to put his mind at ease. He didn't even mind that the timing of his sessions changed. That they were more frequent, and not specifically attached to any one moment. It was after dinner now, Irina coming by after Karo had left, taking he and Buddy down to the subbasements and into the Danger Room. The sim wasn't anything difficult -- no attacks or frightening imagery or loud sounds. Just a group of people wandering around, some faces familiar and some not, but all designed to react to Pizer's touch the way that a real mutant would. The purpose of this (and the times before) was to only touch the people that Irina said to. And to not hesitate if she said to touch someone that he knew.

It had made him pause a little at first, so used to keeping all of his skin away from everyone. But her words and her voice were reassuring, and it helped that the people in the Danger Room didn't scream or writhe in pain to throw him off mentally. They did try to get away from him sometimes, but he was learning how to grab hold and not let go until she said to.

Another sim crumpled to the floor, continuing to disintegrate until there was nothing there, and he looked at the spot for a moment before turning his head to look at Irina. He'd recognized that one. Someone at the school -- the name escaped him as to which one it was, though. It was strange to be putting his hands on them purposefully, so he wanted to check again that he'd done the right thing. That he was supposed to.

(Open to Irina!)

The oppressive feeling of the new spirits around the school had been getting heavier and heavier of late. Heavy enough and angry enough that they'd started manifesting physically, leaving that ectoplasm stuff for DG and Kit to suss out. She'd told a few of them to go away, but it hadn't been a forceful command and they'd wanted to stick around. They had business here, with someone in particular; she could only imagine that there were suspects in the double-digits that might have a spectre wanting them to fall off a cliff, considering people's backgrounds and former occupations here. So if they were giving someone a few bad dreams and otherwise leaving things alone, what business was it of hers? They seemed to be giving the death-speakers a careful berth after the ectoplasm incident anyway.

She was bored after dinner, not wanting to do homework or muck around on her phone or any of the normal distractions that she usually found acceptable. And the conversation with Mikey had gotten under her skin a little, despite her starting it, for reasons that she didn't fully understand or want to try to. So when a ghost came (metaphorically) knocking at her window, she opted to see what it wanted. It just seemed like the best choice, at the time.

She didn't even question when the ghost in question wanted her to come outside, to the woods, so that it could tell her its secret there. She just tugged on a hoodie and made her way out there, trudging over the grass and idly thinking that summer could not come too soon in this place. The woods at night didn't bother her, and it wasn't as though ghosts had a habit of picking not-spooky areas to make themselves known anyway.

When she came back from the forest's edge a little while later, she looked different. Her powers had kicked in, leaving her flesh that mottled shade of green-grey, her eyes glowing red, her hair matted and dark. The space around the school started to feel heavier and darker than normal as spirits from miles around were pulled to her. Small tremors went through the ground as the earth shifted and moved, dead hands clawing through to the surface.

It didn't take long before the first person was bitten, their eyes turning the same shade of red as the others, their body and movements reflecting the dead as well. It wouldn't take much longer to get to all the rest.

(Open! Please see OOC post before tagging!)