InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You're a wizard, Harry! "

dunwich mod (dunwichmod) wrote in dunwichgame,
@ 2023-02-15 13:30:00

Entry tags:

!ic/ooc event, buffyverse: spike, hannibal: abigail hobbs, stephen king: eddie kaspbrak, ∙ plot: 001 welcome to dunwich, ◌ inactive: addie larue, ◌ inactive: azuma kazuma, ◌ inactive: bail organa (au), ◌ inactive: belphegor, ◌ inactive: bucky barnes, ◌ inactive: carol danvers, ◌ inactive: chrissy cunningham, ◌ inactive: clint barton, ◌ inactive: delirium, ◌ inactive: diana bishop, ◌ inactive: eddie munson (au), ◌ inactive: jake pentecost, ◌ inactive: natasha romanoff, ◌ inactive: okoye, ◌ inactive: robin buckley, ◌ inactive: rupert giles, ◌ inactive: sam wilson (au), ◌ inactive: shaun gilmore, ◌ inactive: zoe hange

welcome to dunwich?

CHAOS, FOG and a PARADE

A STARTING IC/OOC EVENT

ARRIVAL OF THE NEW PEOPLE / THE PARADE The fog has cleared and you find yourself standing in the downtown streets of an unfamiliar town. And you’re not alone. There are dozens of people lining the sidewalks on either side of Main Street, cheering. At first you think they’re excited that the fog has finally lifted, but then you realize that a parade is heading towards you.

But it’s not just any normal parade. This is an all out affair that appears to involve most of the town and its residents. If you’re familiar with Earth history there might even be a kind of nostalgic vibe to the event. The closer you look at the parade, however, the more peculiar it appears. The marching band majorettes, for example, are waving flags with an image of a mutated lobster on it. And the drum corp is dressed like lobsters, banging away at the snare with hands sticking out of their large claws.

There’s a float that rolls by afterwards featuring a teenage girl in a bright pink dress sitting atop a decorative throne. She waves to everyone on the side of the street. “Wow! The pig farm sure crowned a beauty for the pageant this year!” one of the locals says. Sure enough, around the throne are four large swine, devouring slop at the girl’s feet.

A bright blue Cadillac slowly drives after the float. The logo for Dolan’s Auto Shop is written on the side and a man with a wide smile honks toots on the horn which lets out an eerie jingle. After that a group of mimes dance around the crowd. One in front holds up a sign for The Tommyknocker Theatre Troupe.

And so on.

Everyone you try to talk to is friendly. The street vendors offer you free hotdogs and ice cream.

All of it is completely normal.

But then why does it make you feel so uneasy?

NOTES You know the drill! Get in the comments! (Insert Brennan Lee Mulligan gif here.)

If you don't know the drill, that's okay! IC/OOC events can be a little overwhelming when just starting out. I wrote an essay about it here if you want to know what's up.

SPECIAL THANKS Round of applause to our very own Marty McChaa for writing up this lovely event for us and finding the images.

The coding can be found at Tess's patreon if you want to have it on hand for your very own. ♥ We're Tess stans here.

CODE BY

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Spike/Gilmore

shaungilmore
2023-02-21 08:28 am UTC (link)

The sudden goodbye caused a cant in his head. And they'd been getting along so swimmingly, and there had even been eyes. Yes, well, clearly hungry eyes but it was nice to know that not everyone had the same reaction as the local populace. Besides, Spike said he also slipped into this dimension. Oughtn't they stick together?

"I would offer to polymorph you temporarily into something that doesn't require sunscreen," Gilmore said rather coquettishly, checking his nails and adjusting one of the rings on his fingers, "but I think we both know better than to do that on a first date."

The offer was out in the open. The vampire could accept or decline, but either way Gilmore needed to do more reconnaissance. Perhaps a bird's eye view of the town would give him perspective? Gilmore's head careened upward and he thought about it, finishing off the floating hotdog in the interim.

"I wonder if everyone is under some sort of enchantment," he mumbled to himself, "it could explain their behavior? The Feywild certainly has odd effects on creatures not native to the plane who spend any length of time there. Though, I'd need space to work the ritual..."

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Spike/Gilmore

bloodislove
2023-02-21 01:44 pm UTC (link)

The offer made Spike hesitate. He glanced over at the assumption that the polymorphing would be inappropriate between them so soon, then let out a snort.

"You want to change this?" he boasted as he gestured towards his face, though he was clearly weighing the option more than his dismissive noise would imply. He wasn't the type to trust in magic, Drusilla had always been the one trying to invoke 'powers' and insisting on using weird trinkets. Spike had seen magic backfire far too often, and with no inherent skill he typically avoided it. Admittedly, however, this was no typical situation.

"Wouldn't mind a better hat. I'd hate to ruin our first time together by bursting into flame if one of these bloody claws gets knocked about," he finally settled on, glancing at the bright red that rimmed his vision in mild annoyance. It seemed a fair compromise, and minimally it would show him a bit more of the other's powers. Besides, even with the style sense displayed before him, it seemed to Spike that it would be difficult to come up with something more humiliating to be caught in public in. He didn't comment on the mention of a 'ritual' just yet. That was probably a bad idea, and above his pay grade to handle, but in general he didn't much care as long as it wouldn't be affecting him. Minimally it was a better idea to play nice until he got his own bearings, and the thought of them doing better sticking in a group had occurred to him as well.

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Spike/Gilmore

shaungilmore
2023-02-22 08:50 pm UTC (link)

"Yes, a bear or a hawk or a horse or any number of creatures that do not share your particular vulnerability to the day star. But if you're merely interested in a change in costume, I suppose I can make a gesture of goodwill."

The sorcerer considered the task for a moment, envisioning clearly the end product. He reached out with his left hand and levied it at the hat Spike was wearing. The fingers moved in a series of odd gestures, bending into indecipherable mudras. Likewise, he intoned a brief incantation in some bizarre language; it was less learned language and instead words that echoed with power, words that came to him from nowhere and from within. Magic ignited inside his veins by issue of his birthright. His eyes glowed purple and upon his forehead etched a shining rune. Gilmore shaped that power, pulling its amorphous energy by might of will into a spell of directed intention. It resisted him, such magic did not want to work on an inanimate object. But Gilmore was no wizard who learned and obeyed the arcane laws of magic. He was a sorcerer. He made the rules. And when they no longer suited him, he broke them.

Gilmore's right rotated around his left wrist as he commanded the metamagic. The very fabric of the arcane glistened into view, runes of purple and gold akin to the one that appeared on his forehead. That fabric did not suit his purpose, so the sorcerer bent it into shape. He broke the spell and transmuted it, reconfiguring it at what might be considered a molecular, metamagical level. When he finally released it, the magic uncoiled and struck Spike's hat. It shuddered and bent and molded, reshaping it into a turban of purple fabric that wrapped around his head and face and neck. A visor pushed the fabric into an overhang in front of his open eyes, casting them in shadow. It was a garment common in Gilmore's home country, much of which was arid desert that required protection from the sun.

"You'll still need to keep your hands in your pockets," Gilmore said as took a breath and examined his work, "but it's good encouragement to keep one's hands to one's self, difficult as that may be in my company."

Very clearly a joke, Gilmore let out a snort and swept a hand through his long black hair.

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Spike/Gilmore

bloodislove
2023-02-23 12:56 am UTC (link)

"Yeah. Thanks, but no thanks. Seen transfiguration before, I'd rather burn up as myself then twitch about with too many legs or no thumbs," Spike gave a single shake of his head, though he picked his words carefully, not missing how other other was apparently able to do such a spell at the drop of a hat.

As the other's eyes lit up and the rune appeared, Spike started to have second thoughts about his own offer. It was, however, too late as he felt the garment shift and change around him. At the first glance of fabric he went completely and utterly still, unwilling to risk interruptng... whatever was happening.

As the fabric tucked itself in around him he noted the color with a small roll of his eyes, though he supposed he shouldn't have assumed differently with the other's powers already being shown off and thematic. And, as the transformation was completed, he did feel an instant lessening of the stinging sensation of indirect sunlight, even around his neck that hadn't been so well sheilded. The proper brim was good, too, and he blinked a few times to clear his vision, huffing a short laugh at the comment about his hands.

"Sure. Because you're so clearly hands-off," he returned. The new headgear was certainly no less discreet, and the guy might've at least made it black (if that was even possible), but Spike was a survivalist. He didn't want to see what somebody with this amount of on-hand power would do when he was feeling less generous and more annoyed. At least, not yet.

Sticking his hands in his pockets purposefully, Spike's eyes crinked slightly as he grinned.

"So. S'pose introductions are in order, since you've already tickled me with your own touch," he chuckled, relaxing slightly. At least somebody as weird as he was being around meant Spike probably wasn't dead, which was a decent enough thing to cross off the 'what the hell just happened' list. His gaze shifted slightly as he settled, shining with more curiosity than caution. "I'm Spike. Originally from Earth. Or, an Earth, I suppose.. Pleased to meet you."

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Spike/Gilmore

shaungilmore
2023-02-26 05:25 am UTC (link)

"Certainly more hands-off than most wizards," Gilmore said amusedly as the gathered the stray strands of magic left over and reabsorbed them back into his veins. The fire within him began to cool. "Being meddlesome is a hazard of their occupation. I, at least, consulted you beforehand. My name is Gilmore, creator, proprietor, and chief artificer of Gilmore's Glorious Goods-- sundry boutique of enchantments to bring magic into your everyday life."

The sorcerer swept out his hands and bowed at the introduction and a series of small sparkler fireworks set off around his robed body and a lilting tune that seemed similar to Alan Menken's Agrabah Marketplace began to play around him. Before it get too rowdy, the music subsided.

"Let us wander and talk. I'm curious how you came to be here, and how it might mirror the tale of my own arrival from the land of Exandria..."

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Re: Spike/Gilmore

bloodislove
2023-02-26 08:48 pm UTC (link)

The whole display was obnoxious, egotistical, and entirely out of place.

Spike's unbeating heart swelled in appreciation, even if the covering over his face masked all but the crinkle in his eyes and only his shoulders slumped slightly in wicked kind of way.

"Sure," He responded to the invitation. There was a manner of speech the other held that was oh-so-mortal, and struck with Spike's own origins more familiarly than he'd grown accustomed to in the turning centuries. He quickly self-ridiculed his own phrasing, then gave a slight duck-bow, sweeping out his still pocketed hand in a manner that made his leather coat act a bit more cape-like. It was all about the drama after all, wasn't it?

Turning to face the street purposefully, he glanced over and smirked.

"S'pose you're a bit more out of place here than me, anyway. I dare you to tell a local you're an 'artificer' and find somebody who actually knows what that is," he boasted slightly. It was a natural reflex towards somebody who could probably rip his clothing off and cast him into a sunbeam, after all. Or just conjure flames and incinerate him on the spot. But Spike respected that more than he feared it. Death was death; to be avoided if possible but not the worst punishment he could receive so long as his dignity was in tact.

His hand fell with the coat, touching his pants pocket and the hard rectangle inside.

"Don't s'pose you have a phone on you. Little square thing that looks like glass. Lights up when you touch it? Not magic. You should grab mine if you don't, it's how I keep in touch with the other weird people who probably have something to do with this."

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