nightlogs | DUST TO DUST ❅ EVENT

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DUST TO DUST ❅ EVENT

DUST TO DUST

It will take them time to discern the cause. After all, all the artifacts brought back from the fight with Project Prometheus were deemed safe or at least contained, only able to have their dangerous power unleashed if people were dumb enough to try it.

The altheiometer is not the real thing. It was created by the belief of a child, after reading a certain book series, and therefore is more of a symbolic object, with none of the real capabilities of the device in fiction. Instead, it had other magical abilities. It was not entirely understood by the Project itself, just kept there to be studied and eventually co-opted for sinister use if possible. But it had remained inert in their company.

At the Pole, it passes the magical scan, since it technically is "safe," then finally activates. It works on a child's logic, after all. A child would think daemons are cool but wouldn't think bad people deserved them. A child would think the device should only activate to let good guys have daemons.

In the study containing the safer artifacts, the altheiometer opens of its own accord. Gears turn. The hands start clicking as they move in circles around its clock-like face, rotating back and forth between different symbols. The hands finally stop, clicking as they meet in the same spot, on the symbol of an apple, with a bite taken out of it.

It's all very metaphorical isn't it. The soul can't exist without free will. In some worlds they think free will only exists because of an apple in a garden.

There is a burst of light and sound that reverberates through the Pole. As the floor shakes, everyone sees a brief glimpse of the wave as it passes through walls - and then passes through each of them. Getting hit by it is like getting hit by a storm wave in the ocean, briefly lifting everyone off their feet.

Alongside the sensation of being briefly levitated, there is also the painful sensation of suddenly being aware of something deep inside, briefly made to feel almost like a splinter in their very core.

Then, with all the subtlety of getting attacked with a giant hole punch, the splinter is removed, excised. It does hurt, but there is also a strange relief. Except...whatever it was, it's still here. Next to each of the Guardians. Still attached, just...an externality now.

The wave crashes to the shore. They're all knocked to the floor again.

If they were alone in a room, they aren't now. If they weren't alone in a room, said room's occupants have now doubled.

DAEMONS
Each PC now temporarily has a daemon. Daemons are the soul externalized, sentient and able to talk. Taking the form of animals, they often shapeshift and change forms during someone's childhood, but settle into a permanent shape during someone's teen years as the person's personality becomes more concrete and distinct.

Form: A daemon takes an animal form that represents the person's personality. They usually have a gender opposite to their respective person's, but there are sometimes exceptions, sometimes for entirely unknown reasons, or if the person is some flavor of queer. Daemons will know that they're their owner's soul and be able to tell them that.

Daemon Selection: Here is a page with interpretations of a few animals and what types of personalities they can represent, but please don't take it as law. It's just possible inspiration. The daemons can be any animal. For characters not from Earth, their daemons can be animals that are entirely made up or ones in their canons.

Link: Daemons are connected metaphysically to their person through an invisible link, allowing that person to still be attached to their soul. Moving too far from your daemon can cause physical and spiritual agony. Suddenly being ripped apart by a great distance can kill someone. Killing a daemon - which is only as hardy as the animal they are - also kills their owner.

Personalities: Daemon personalities are often similar to their owner's, but sometimes daemons are more willing to be honest about feelings or subconscious impulses. For instance, daemons often instinctually show affection to the daemons of people their owner is fond of. Daemons will remember everything their owner remembers, and was basically there the whole time they were alive, just integrated. Despite being externalized, they aren't something separate from each person, they were always a part of them.

Physical Contact: People can touch their own daemons without effects and cuddling their daemon can be a positive experience of self-love. Someone hurting their own daemon can feel like they've caused the damage to themselves, and hurts on a spiritual or almost self-hating level. Meanwhile, picking up someone else's daemon without permission can cause incredible discomfort and pain. Alternately, touching someone's daemon with permission can cause comfort, a surge of happiness, or even pleasure, depending on the context of the contact and the relationship the two people have.

OOC DETAILS
❅ Event Length: The plot will last an OOC and IC 2 weeks before they can figure out what's causing the change and reverse it, making the daemons internal again. During this time, allies of the Guardians will temporarily take over their duties and fortunately no major crises will happen. Players can set their own opens during this time as well as play out anything that happens over the whole 2 weeks in this post.

❅ New Characters: If your character is introing at this time, assume they arrived just in time for the magical wave to hit them, or walked into a cloud of its residual energy.

❅ Opt-out: Anyone that doesn't want to play in the plot or have a daemon can handwave Vasilisa's magical defenses caught on to the power surge and her glowing charms protected at least some people in the Pole from the transformation. You can ignore this and thread as if there's just a little extra chaos around the Pole.

❅ Jack Frost: There will also be a network post with Jack explaining what Vasilisa has magically discerned has happened. It will take time to find the source, as the altheiometer is very good at cloaking its readings and registered as "safe." (Technically, it is safe, it's just...inconvenient.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You generalize the entirety of every human who happens to be a customer in your shop.

[Check and mate.]

[ Lipstick??? In his Valentino white tlkjdflsjdfl- ]

I most certainly do not, thank you! [ None! At all! ] Any generalizing of customers that I may or may not do is entirely different!

Mm, explain to me how it's different.

[They both know it isn't.]

[ Cue one notable, deafening span of silence. Pissy little shift of the shoulders included free of charge. ]

Never you mind. It just is.

[ It isn't. He's just a possessive weirdo who wants to technically have a bookshop more than he wants people to not touch his books and knick-knacks. ]

Oh, well, if that's the case then it simply must be true.

[Little shit mode: activated.]

How could anyone ever argue with your divine wisdom?

Darling, if the universe were constructed in such a way that nothing in the whole of creation could argue with my wisdom, I have every confidence that you would still manage.

[ But like. In an affectionate way. ]

Gosh.

[Partially sarcastic teasing, partially genuine.]

That ought to be your wedding vows.

[ Aziraphale makes the sort of sound that means that in his heart and mind, he's going 'gosh' mockingly back at Crowley for being a little shit.

Like the implication of them having a future wedding does not immediately perk him right up. He loves a hypothetical ~very special day~. ]

If I opt for public ones, I'll include that just for you. [ Get your hand held, idiot. ] Nuisance.

[The sun is shining, they're on a beautiful beach, Aziraphale is making fun of him. It's a perfect day.]

Doesn't have to be pubic, I still love to hear it. [The mortifying ordeal of someone else hearing them declare their love is pretty fucking mortifying.

Hand holding is less mortifying.

But he will lift Aziraphale's hand so he can kiss his knuckles.] Flatterer.

[ Ough... he's being romanced. How is anybody supposed to be normal about this. Flatterer, indeed. ]

Very pot and kettle of you. Not that that's surprising. [ They invented pot and kettle. Statler and Waldorf. Iconic duos. ] If you're not careful, I might start thinking you're a romantic at heart.

[ Too late he already knows. ]

[Crowley makes the sort of drawn out, non-committal sound that he frequently makes when being accused of something that he doesn't want to admit to despite the fact that everyone in the vicinity (which is to say, he and Aziraphale) knows it's the truth.]

How dare you. You know how much I hate Coleridge.

[Not that kind of romantic, you dipshit.]

Oh, hush. There's nothing wrong with Coleridge.

[ Subjectively. Objectively, there's something wrong with everyone. If Crowley wants to deflect with being a pedant, so be it. ]

He did wonders for Hamlet.

All the more reason to dislike him, I'd say.

[This is a perfectly logical train of thought.

Why does Aziraphale put up with him.]

Not to mention the man could barely finish a proper poem.

Nonsense. [ You hear him! Nonsense!

He pulls up near the shoreline and starts setting up his fluffy beach towel station on this premium real estate. ]

Every creative individual has their own process. Their own strengths and weaknesses. I think he did very well for himself.

Of course you'd think that.

[Said with the vibe that the reasoning behind this thought process should be obvious, but also in the way where it's clear he is not going to be explaining himself.

Crowley miracles himself a black beach towel, drops down onto it with little ceremony, and then, just to be ridiculous, also summons up a ridiculously oversized wide-brimmed hat. It's comical, how large it is.

He is not going to discuss it.]

All a part of my studied expertise. [ Is it though. He'd like to think so, yes.

He has no idea why Crowley said that with that tone like it's some very obvious conclusion, of course. So he'll need to percolate on that for four to six business days before he finally gets into enough of a snit about it to ask. That's just enrichment in Aziraphale's enclosure, though.

In any case, the hat choice (which earns at least two doubletakes) is more than enough to merit his active attention. Bitch... what. ]

You're going to strain your corporation's neck with that.

[ If Crowley's becoming a vampire, he has legal and moral obligations to tell Aziraphale immediately so that Aziraphale can capitalize on it. ]

Is that what you call sleeping your way through the literary circuit?

[Slut-shaming (affectionate) is something that can be so personal now that they're actually allowed to talk about their sex lives without it getting incredibly awkward. Not that he's jealous or anything. He's just chilling in his oversized hat.]

With what?

[The hat does not exist. He's committing to this bit and not even God could stop him.]

Well, I'm hardly going to apologize for that. [ He's relaxing into the affectionate slut-shaming vibes more and more as time goes on. Like with anything Crowley pokes fun at, the intent is never hurtful. Makes it easier not to feel... squirrely about these things. ] But I'd like it on the record that my interests developed long before I slept through all the circuits attached to them.

[ Like, come on. He's got standards. He loved stage magic long before he slept with some magicians. He found footing in the queer community well before he took up at the Hundred Guineas Club. He-- alright, he didn't like French all that much before he took those night classes. Or at all, really. It was more that he was interested in learning it the human way as a concept and then maybe sleeping with his instructor was much more interesting in the practice.

Still, though.

He waves a hand towards the stupidest hat in the world with a flat expression. Partly for emphasis: with what indeed, oh isn't Crowley so funny and not insufferable at all, etc. But also partly for the purpose of putting very tacky artificial sunflowers around the brim. ]

Oh, I'd assumed.

[The teasing hasn't gone anywhere, but there's a familiar sort of fondness to his tone, too. Aziraphale has loved literature and stories for a very long time, and while Crowley doesn't know the exact time he figured out that sex was fun, he doubts it was that long ago.]

I can tell you just did a miracle, angel. What have you done, turned it pink?

[This is obviously a joke because the brim is more than wide enough that he can look up and see it's still black.]

[ As long as the timeline is very clear. Aziraphale is no poseur. He's a nerd before he's anything else, as far as Earthly interests go.

And Crowley loves him for it... insane.

Aziraphale tries to look Extremely Innocent. Who him??? Miracle? He's never done a miracle in his life actually. What could be more proof of concept than his very innocent not-pleased-with-himself shift of the shoulders? ]

Turned what pink? We packed light. There's hardly anything to turn any color at all.

[ He should have turned it pink. That can stay in the back pocket for another time. Right now he'll just commit to Crowley's bit. ]

[Being annoyed at Aziraphale for using a miracle on his hat vs. being charmed by Aziraphale committing to the bit vs. being in love with Aziraphale doing his ridiculous shift of the shoulders.]

My glasses, obviously, since you were so keen on the flamingos.

[If Aziraphale is now willing to commit to the bit, Crowley is going to run with it.]

Ohh.

[ He does his best impression of one of those facetious "you poor dear" pouts that Crowley loves to aim at him when he's fussing about small things. ]

Darling, you have my solemn word that I'll never interfere with your glasses. [ ... well. ] In a public space. [ ........... WELL. ] Without permission.

[ Which this technically sort of would be. What if someone landed a parachute here after he messed with Crowley's Look™️. Caught vulnerable and unawares??? Unwilling? Perish the thought.

The bedroom is a different matter.

He can't believe he's getting away with this incredible prank. ]

[Crowley is going to have to unpack how being on the receiving end of that look makes him feel at some point, but that point isn't now.]

Those were an awful lot of addendums.

[Further commitment to the bit involves changing his glasses which really only serves to make him look like Widow Who Just Killed Her Husband Barbie.]

Nothing wrong with a little pink, I suppose.

[ It's not fair how nice Crowley looks no matter what he's wearing or how ridiculous it is. Not that Aziraphale is biased or anything.

He does love the lighter lenses as a means to see Crowley's eyes, though. ]

What are two addendums in the grand scheme of things when you know them both well beforehand? Negligible, I think. [ So negligible. So communicated.

He takes his unofficial softdom position very seriously. ] You do flatter a bit of pink, though.

[ Pink should be grateful as a color to be chosen. ]

How come you're the arbiter on whether addendums are negligible or not? I thought this was a democracy.

[The... relationship?

Don't worry about it, he's just talking nonsense for the sake of talking nonsense. A familiar tune.]

Or does a bit of pink flatter me? [He takes the glasses off so he can inspect them, as if that might reveal the answer to the question.] Never figured it did, really, clashes with the hair.

for being a lil bitch

it's his calling

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oh that definitely should've been 'public' huh

the way i straight up did not notice

that's what i appreciates about you

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