soul_logs | [OPEN]

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

Characters: OPEN
Location: Outskirts of Nevada
Rating: PG
Time: All day, Feb 27
Description: Shibusen offers a field trip to acclimate the guests to the Madness wavelength.

It's a perfectly pleasant day for the most part, if one is to look at the sky and maybe the horizon. For the attendees of the fieldtrip, however, things are naturally a lot more grim, if also lot more colorful. There are understandably no civilians in the area -- or any other signs of life apart from the group.

As promised, the location is extensively arranged to cordon off various areas of the place where Madness spikes have been identified. They are all properly labeled, both with text and visuals, and discreet agents kept an eye on all corners of the large field. The mirror by which the guest will come in is set in a corner, with some food provided next to it.

People are free to come and go, though the other end leads to the clinic instead of the Death Room. The rules are simple: venture into a level you think you can handle, and if you can't, someone will help.

In the afternoon, a light rain will come to add some variety to the endless desert. Make sure to take shelter in the open tents provided to protect you from the elements!

[ooc: Just put in open tags in the comments, [Character Name | Open/Close | Area/sort of madness targeted/whatever marker you want].

Plotting and information post was here.]

Threaded | Flat

After Auron's lesson, Kanji knew what to expect when it came to standing out in the desert. Trading his usual sweatshirt for a sleeveless, jacket slung over a tattooed shoulder for now, he checked out the different sectioned-off areas indicating the level of Madness within, idly toying with the bullet charm around his neck.

All ready he felt the heavy presence of the wavelength pressing down on his shoulders, though he knew it'd only get worse once he stepped into any one of these sections.

It left him feeling a little... edgy, not wanting to stick too close to people for the moment, but he knew he had to beat this if he was going to beat everything else out there, even if at the edge of his hearing he could hear some whispers.

[ooc: Action? Prose? Your choice!]

Edited 2012-06-16 04:31 (UTC)

There was already an uncomfortably familiar feeling in the back of Bakura's mind as he stepped into the Madness-filled area. The feeling of being watched, of a presence hovering in the back of his mind, growing stronger with ever step he took.

He was going to ignore it. He knew it wasn't real. Couldn't be real. After all, the Voice was in Death City now. There was no way that he could be in his head.

'Unless it was all you all along...'

Bakura startled, eyes going wide at the Voice, his hands moving to cover his ears. "Shut up, you aren't real!" he whispered intensely. Couldn't be real. It was just the Madness. Just...

'So convenient that no one's seen us both in the same place at the same time, isn't it, Yadonushi? You showing up just as your little *friend* had said I'd run away...'

The teen's hands tensed, fingers pressing tightly against his head. "I didn't lose any time then, it couldn't have been!"

'Hou? How long were you standing in the hallway, hrrrm? An awful long time, wasn't it? Just long enough for me to step in...'

"Shut up!" Bakura snapped, shoulders curling in. "Get out of my head!"

Raidou was feeling reasonably confident when he first stepped out of the mirror. He had been on enough missions to know how to block out the quiet whispers in his ears and the movements at the edge of his sight. Granted, having no goal to focus on made it somewhat harder, but it was nothing he couldn't manage.

Which was why after a while, he decided to venture deeper into the Madness-ridden area.

He could ignore the blood staining the ground. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, and it was hardly the first time he had seen some. He could ignore the things digging their way out of the earth, knowing that Shibusen agents would step in if they were really there.

He couldn't ignore the eyes. They watched his every move, judging in silence. One moment of weakness, and they would notice it instantly, they would remember it...

Don't be a fool. They are not real. They are not here.

It didn't help. He feared making a wrong move. Just knowing there was sweat on his brow was enough to fill him with dread. Could they tell how fast his heart was beating? Did they notice how harshly his breath came? Did they know he had to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking?

Stop. He could do this. He kept his face carefully expressionless, resisted the urge to let his gaze dart around.

He had nothing to fear. Nothing whatsoever.

[ooc: Action and prose are both fine!]

He felt the darkness impinging some corner of his soul with cold, invasive tendrils looking for some crack to push through. But Masamune is nothing but resilient, he came out here to train so that he could be a better meister.

But something got to him, some little voice whispering about how useless he was. How he was fit for nothing. How he should just give up. How his ambitions were really a cover up for his own insecurities.

Masamune places a hand over his eyepatch protectively. Huh. They were serious about this place.

(( prose or action! i am fine with both! ))

Sephiroth had slipped through the mirror as secretively as possible. He wasn't the first to go through for the day, but had disappeared out of Death City once the first batch had gone through and there appeared to be a lull. The ex-General was silent as he weaved his way through the crowd, and slipped by as unnoticed as he possibly could. It was just fortunate that most tended to leave him be.

He hated to admit to his weaknesses, but Sephiroth knew that the Madness Wavelength was a weakness he needed to start overcoming. Already he was posing too much of a risk to Cloud throughout their missions, and that was clearly unacceptable to the ex-General. His power was continuing to grow within this world, and with it the potential threat he continually offered Cloud with his mental instability.

There were far too many reasons as to why that was, but both he and Cloud had always been more than content to leave the undesirable topics alone. That was a large part of the reason, but also the fear of what may come should those topics ever be presented. There wasn't much time left though in that regard. Cloud had already expressed interest in broaching the topics of their past, but he didn't feel ready for such things yet.

Sephiroth inhaled a deep breath to push those thoughts away as he refocused his attention on the area around him. He was standing on the cusp of the first Wavelength area and already he could feel the subtle press on his mind. The lower levels wouldn't affect him too severely, but he knew that he needed them to better prepare his mind and soul to handling the more powerful areas.

[ooc: action or prose is fine :) ]

Edited 2012-06-16 01:30 (UTC)

Yako had honestly thought she could handle it. Or perhaps she had just wanted to believe that.

Either way, she was not taking to the situation well, or even slightly positively. There was a reason she tried to keep within arm's reach of a Meister any time she was outside of the protective borders of Shibusen, even if she only fully understood it at a primal level. That reason became more and more apparent with each passing moment. It was a pity that she wasn't quite lucid enough to take the lesson to heart.

It had started small, a soft voice, a horribly, terribly familiar soft voice, assuring her that it wasn't her fault. Well. Not really, at least, and if her own father didn't blame her all that much, then why should she?

The longer she was out, the more voices joined in, creating a horrible, patronizing chorus of insincere assurances. It wasn't her fault she was too late. It wasn't her fault she hadn't picked up certain key details. It wasn't her fault they were dead.

Well. Not really, at least.

It reached truly alarming depth, however, when her vision began to swim and distort, splashing into visions of horror that she usually only had to deal with in her nightmares. Soon after that, she began to shake, and by the time the soft voices turned accusing and eviscerated monsters started dancing across her eyes she dropped into a crouch, covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut in a futile effort to drown them out as she trembled.

Sheena wasn't sure what she had expected when she first walked into the mirror, so going by what Spirit had told her, she held her breath as though she was walking into water. Surprisingly, it was kind of cool and tingly--not at all unpleasant and something she could get used to thanks to the heat of Nevada. Stepping out into the desert, she promised herself to find either the closest pool or cold bath she could when she returned.

She took in the sight before her and took a deep, steadying breath. Maybe all of her years of hiding her emotions and pain from others would come in handy with this exercise. After all, experience was the best teacher. Taking another breath, Sheena began moving along, using those tricks she had been taught--and taught herself--to not let anything bother her or distract her.

At first, it worked as she made her way through the lower level area. All she could feel was a slight pressure in the back of her mind that she was able to ignore. As she progressed, however, it began to turn into the feeling that someone was watching her. Stopping, she turned slowly and looked around--

--only to see that, except for those who were supposed to, there was no one even glancing in her direction. Shaking her head, she resumed her walk, and slightly distracted by that experience, managed to stumble over a large rock. And right into one of the unmarked High-Level Madness areas.

"You should have died! It's your fault! You should be dead!" came the voices from the past, freezing her in place. Frantically, she shook her head and tried to retreat, only to stop cold as those invisible eyes from before suddenly appeared--full of hate and anger.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" she screamed.

This was the closest Kakashi ever wanted to come to actual madness. While Death City's madness wasn't entirely the same as the madness of depression his father had once faced, a small part of Kakashi wondered morbidly if he could face it and still live to tell about it. But he needed to do this. It would be a strength--like building resistance to poisons or enhancing stamina--that their side needed. Especially their partnership. He and Gai made such a good team, but a little Madness could easily pull them apart. The Black Blood had hinted at that.

He carefully stepped into the area marked for Madness. The feeling was like a darkness, a cold-burning rage seeping into him. In the exact opposite of resonance--which left him feeling comforted, warm, and bonded to someone--he felt paranoia and a twinge of anger, almost suspicious, and uncomfortable in his own skin. Kakashi was edgy in a way that reminded him of his childhood, when it seemed like he was alone in the world and could trust only himself.

Closing his eyes, he tried to focus. It was just like genjutsu training--he had to work past what his mind and body wanted to believe. But...what if he wasn't strong enough to overcome this? What if, like his father, he would succumb to inner demons? If this was the push he needed to break?

Unlike anyone else he'd encountered since they ventured out on this field trip, Naruto was bouncing with energy. This madness stuff has to be easy. He's a ninja, he's Uzumaki Naruto. He's been to the waterfall of truth, he's conquered his 'dark side', he's soooo close to taming Kurama. A little madness.

Ha. Easy.

It's why each step has a spring in it, and the huge grin on his face might as well be painted on because right now it's not going anywhere. Clinging to his rucksack with both hands on the straps he stops in the middle of, well - what seems to be everything. He just needs someone to go with him right? That's what they said. Not that he's really given thought to the fact that whoever he goes with might not be so 'adept' at managing the influence of the Madness. Well, there's nothing left but to.

"HEEEEY. You guys, anyone wanna go face this stuff with me!? I'm Uzumaki Naruto, dattebayo! It'll be easy!"

At first he hadn't been sure whether sneaking onto this trip would be worth the effort.

Now he knew: it was.

Sitting with his legs crossed right in the center of a 'high madness' zone, he all but basket in its harmful influence. The hot, stifling desert air that was thick with the corruption of bad miasma reminded him of a certain hidden room back at his home and the time before he had died, as well as the murderous atmosphere of the magic that they were using in the Dark Games. When he closed his eyes the occasional noises the other 'trainees' made could even pass as the wails of the evil spirits that he had grown up with.

It wasn't quite the same, but it was close.

Sitting relaxed and with his eyes still closed, a small unconscious smile spread over his face. Maybe for the first time in centuries he felt at ease and happy.

((ooc: Action and prose are both welcome!))

Edited 2012-06-16 17:36 (UTC)

[Even though the tent is open it is dim inside. Since it stands a little off and to the side (the furthest away from the mirror) nobody is paying attention to it or the lone person who has retreated inside it, apparently in order to take a break and recover from whatever the local madness had done with his head.

A break that Bakura wasn’t going to get, he muses as he slips inside the tent and behind the prone figure who is sitting on a lone camping chair, face hidden in his hands.

Bowing over him, the Spirit of the Sennen Ring smirks.]

Are you trying to run away again, my host? We both know that whatever you try is going to be futile anyway.

[The troll stands, arms hanging loosely at his sides, staring straight ahead at what is basically nothing.

His expression is blank, the usual mildly disturbed smile missing.

Occasionally, he'll rock back on his heels, but aside from that he seems otherwise transfixed.]

Edited 2012-06-16 19:50 (UTC)

He only came because Haru told him once that feeling madness eating you was like being high. And through his days, Ryoki had tried his best to feel something that could substitute drugs and the insanity and the care-free feeling as if nothing mattered they brought, but nothing had managed it.

So he’d go into madness only to drown in it. He didn’t want to handle it, he didn’t want to learn to face it. He wanted the hell it brought; he wanted the rush it gave. So he made no effort to fight it as madness took over him.

And Ryoki started to laugh madly.

The gargoyle stood by the low-level areas of madness first, since she wasn’t idiot enough to go and try to highest levels. First, she watched, and then she felt. And bit by bit she was pulled into it, deeper and deeper, and stepped into a mid level area, following towards the high levels.

Her blood boiled, she felt an inexplicable rush and then desire. Desire to ease her instincts, desire to shut that voice- no, those voices. Many voices. Some familiar, others weren’t, but they all blamed her for things she never meant for them to happen, blamed her for things the HUMANS did, not her.

Her eyes glowed red, her muscles tensed and Demona growled low.

It was not her fault. None of this was her fault. It was the humans, always the humans!

First, travel by mirror? AWESOME. Loki made a mental note to inquire about how exactly one set up travel mirrors when he returned to Shibusen. His excitement quickly faded as the ominous, heavy feeling the area radiated began to press in on him.

So if he walked in there...he would experience what they called Madness. Now that it came down to it, Loki wasn't sure he wanted to have this experience after all. He dithered by the edge of the roped-off area for a long minute, trying to decide if this really was a good idea.

But there were guards, wouldn't they? This exercise was safe. That was the whole point of this field trip -- to feel Madness in a safe environment.

With a deep breath, Loki stepped forward, walking through the low-level areas. It wasn't so bad, he thought. He could handle this! Confidence growing, the young god strode deeper into the Madness. He'd always been good at things requiring a strong mind.

Thor would be lost to Madness by now. The thought came unbidden, and Loki wondered if he'd heard it aloud. Thor doesn't know himself, not like I do. He could never muster up the focus required to keep Madness at bay.

Thor is a fool.

This time, Loki knew he'd heard it. Were these the voices the others had mentioned? He heard Odin speak: Thor has turned his training into public entertainment. We cannot allow him to be defeated, not in front of all of Asgard. Not if he is to rule one day.

Then his mother: And Loki cannot inherit?

Odin spoke again: You know as well as I that--

The rest of the Allfather's words were swallowed by cheers -- the cheers of the crowds who gathered to watch Thor battle the Einherjar in the arena. Anger began to swell in Loki's heart, and his hands balled into fists by his side.

Everyone with sense knows I'm the better one, Loki thought bitterly. Father knows it. Mother would never say so, but she knows it too. Yet because it is Thor's birthright, everyone acts as though he would make a splendid king, while I am the obvious choice! The unfairness of it all made Loki's shoulders shake, and he shut his eyes as tears threatened.

"What must I do to prove myself?" Loki found himself saying aloud, crying the question to the desert. "Why must a king's worthiness be determined in battle alone?" The crowds roared in his ears, as he heard his brother speak over them in a jeering tone: Of course you could never be king. I'm the elder, remember? And besides, a king must be strong, and fearless in battle! No Asgardian would ever follow a king like you." Laughter, mocking laughter, rang in his ears.

When his eyes opened again, they held nothing but rage.

"I'm better than my brother. I'm better than him in every way. And if I must triumph in battle to prove that, then so be it." His mouth curled into an exaggerated, twisted grin as his eyes darted around. He would carve his qualifications for the throne of Asgard on any fool unlucky enough to cross his path. "Who's first?"

Edited 2012-06-17 09:01 (UTC)

He could do this. He knew he could. More than that, he had to.

The different areas were well-marked. Mello had never had the greatest faith in Shibusen, but they'd got that much right. He hesitated at the cordoned-off section of madness wavelength he'd chosen (a stronger variation of it, because of course he was diving right in).

He caught himself hesitating, which made him all the more determined to face this, and in defiance (though of whom, or what, he couldn't have said), he hurried to take the last step into the marked-off area.

He was braced for fire. There was precedent for that.

What he felt instead was cold. Sudden and shocking cold, and something else was wrong. It took Mello a moment to realize it was absence. He'd lost all sense of his partner.

All sense of everyone, of the world around him, as if he were encased in ice, unable to move or reach out with his mind. L dead, Matt dead (hisfaulthisfault), Near lost, shoved away. No one else anywhere, no world he fit into.

You, you did it, you're not fit to resonate with anyone, because you always fight it, you shouldn't be alive, don't deserve it.

"No," he said, not realizing he spoke aloud, but knowing the words he tried to believe were lies, all of them. "It's not, it's not my fault."

As hesitant as he'd been about the decision, Kotetsu still managed to come to a solid conclusion of going on that trip to the desert, and just as he'd suspected Barnaby had not only known about the whole thing before he asked but agreed rather easily to it. They decided easily enough to not push themselves, and just handle what they could for a short time before returning to the city.

Once they arrived he paid close attention to the marked off areas, making note of where they started and ended, what spots to hit up first. Low seemed to be the best starting point, and he and Barnaby could work their way up from there. He didn't particularly mind them splitting up as he remembered that building up a tolerance not just meant working with others but enduring it on your own, so the two decided that if they needed to separate then they could, but only for so long.

Occasionally his gaze would shift off to the side, as if watching for something, keeping his eye out for the rest of the people that had chosen to come alone on this trip in case they needed help. But of course, his eyes would always try to land on his partner, making sure he didn't attempt to wander anywhere he wasn't prepared for... and then he would have to stop, shut his eyes and rub at his forehead for a moment, as if that would take care of this odd nagging feeling that would sometimes hit him. Faint doubts and insecurities. Things he used to feel when he was a kid, fleeting negative thoughts, voices telling him he couldn't protect anything--

It was nothing. He trusted what he could do, and things would be fine, so he kept walking.

((ooc; okay with prose or action!))

Edited 2012-06-17 06:32 (UTC)

It was turning out to be a stressful day for him and his agents, but it wasn't going as badly as it could, at least. There had been a few accidents but no major injuries that's been reported to him. That was probably the most that he should expect, given the nature of this trip.

He was standing there by the mirror, although he often moved over to walk across the field, looking at the progress of the agents for himself. Some of the attendees were Shibusen's more regular agents, who thought that taking advantage of the opportunity was a good idea (it was).

So many superpowers waiting to go off like a timebomb. At least the place wasn't populated.

Travel through the mirror had been... strange, to say the least. The cold surface had closed over him like the surface of a lake, and he was reminded, vividly, of the dreams where it was easy, natural, normal to breathe underwater.

It was disconcerting, but he shook off the unease as best he could as he made his way into the madness-riddled areas. There was no-one he could rely on to keep him sane but himself, and he assumed that knowing, this time, what was twisting his thoughts would help him fight it.

Darcia tried hard to keep his grip on reality as he stepped into the nearest area, but then it started to snow. Fat flakes drifted down from the cloudless Nevada sky, and the world around him grew dark as a cave.

A wolf snarled behind him in wordless rage, and he spun around to where the entrance had been only to come face-to-face with his wife.

Hamona looked at him with eyes full of sadness, white dress seeping blood. "Why, my love?"

A tiny part of him knew that this was all wrong, that it was Jagura he had killed, not her twin, but guilt choked the words from him and he could say nothing to this spectre, only reach out. Anything of her silken hair, her satin skin...

But she began to crumble to ash at his touch, and he grabbed at her as she melted to nothing, left with a handful of luna flowers and tearing grief. It hurt, it hurt, she was gone and it was his fault and it HURT-

Something laughed, a low and evil chuckle. He turned again and saw a monstrous wolf, all legs and pointed muzzle and teeth and plum-coloured fur. The creature's left eye was a bloody socket, dripping red, and the right was a blasted cataract, pale blue and sightless.

He had never been afraid of wolves in his life, but this thing made his guts clench in terror. He had an instant to think, That creature is me, the curse of my House- before it was on him, fangs ripping his throat and jaw in the worst parody of a kiss.

Darcia screamed in imagined pain, and fell backwards, grappling with the demons in his head.

This entire exercise was all very pointless to him, but he had come along to support his partner. Of course, Sephiroth had long since wandered away, leaving him to move around in the various areas of madness to pass the time and watch how other people dealt with the wavelength that seemed to cause so much trouble.

Cloud didn't sense any madness no matter where he wandered, his passive meister ability blocking out everything. However, he was armed with his usual swords strapped across his back even as he moved around, unable to tell the difference between the various levels of madness. No, the only way he could tell was based on the expressions of other people who happened to be around.

The various mad cackling, the strange glints of insanity, and the manic grins all told him how various people reacted to the madness. He supposed that any Weapon would be able to be buffeted by his ability if he grabbed them, but he was intent of keeping an eye on his Weapon, who was probably one of the more powerful ones here. Still, he was willing to prevent too much violence in his own way.

Sapphire's lessons had the problem at home of lacking something for Clare to fight control of. Focusing against an outside force without an outside force could only go so far for teaching. Much like you can only teach so much of driving a car without sitting behind the wheel.

Clare stood in front of one of the low levels of madness a moment, steadying herself. It... this was controlled, and she was looking at the same levels of madness she had during the rescue. She'd be alright, there were plenty of people to help her if things got weird. She managed to keep her focus against the Kishin pit.

So she stepped over. She could do this, madness would have no sway over her! She didn't notice at first, how nice the day was. How good she felt, why was she even worrying before? She was better than any madness. She had absolutely nothing to fear. Today would go great.

Inukashi gritted his teeth, giving his best to resist the impulse of just dashing away from this place. His dogs were growling nervously next to him.

"This isn't solid, so it won't hurt us unless we do it ourselves!" Inukashi shouted to them, the puppy in the mix whimpering.
For most people, it probably looked like an odd, and maybe even cruel place to bring a puppy.
But Inukashi knew, the moment that he had taken the 3 dogs in, that they also needed to be trained for this. What good would be for him to be trained against the madness waves if his pack was weak against it and stopped obeying his orders in the worst moment.

His hand brushed in the big, white dog next to him "You are doing good..." he whispered, making an effort to at least maintain the control over both himself and the pack "A little more and we will do a break."

Alucard, even knowing what would happen to him, only hesitated for a short time as he walked into the madness.

The same voice started to talk to him. It sounded so convincing. The same voice that said it would be better if he didn't exist. What good could he do?

"That's...that's not true," he whispered. If he was ever going to fight the madness, he could not believe what it said. But that was so hard when you believed that, at times, you shouldn't exist.

[ Tenten stands outside the area marked Low Madness, holding Santana's hand. The relationship has been easy going since it first inspired in the last moments of Valentine's Night. She figures they might as well start slow since they have no idea what their madness tolerance will be. ]

Do you wanna transform or should we both try this as people? [ It was nice to get a free trip to the middle of nowhere! It may not be romantic, but it definitely can give someone a real time to bond. ]

This place was kind of bad. No, it was not actually bad, but it gave an uncomfortable feeling for Yamazaki. It was the same as a cursed apartment or an old shrine of a malicious God or Kondo-san's private room. Except that Kondo-san was kind to him, but this place was totally unkind and dead. But dead things came back to life on a daily basis here.

Itou-san came back, too. He was not a zombie but losing his arm made him change to the wrong - no, the worst direction. Idiot. He called him idiot.

Yamazaki turned back and yes, Itou stood there and he smirked and he just didn't stop calling him an idiot. And barbaric. And...Oh, Gods, he had so many humiliating names for him. But there were worse things, too.

Hijikata-san was there, too. He just spat and called him annoying and useless before he turned and walked away, disappearing in the weird, red darkness. And Okita...Okita-san, Okita-sama, Master, whatever he wanted to be called, because he brought his toys with him and Yamazaki fell to his kneels readily to beg for his life, but he didn't get a chance to beg. He felt a hand on his shoulder and as he turned back he saw the sad face of Kondo-san. His eyes were full of tears.

"I'm so disappointed, Yamazaki-kun. I hoped you could change for the better but you are still as hopeless as you always were. You've brought disgrace on the whole Shinsengumi and we can't forgive you." he cried openly.

And Yamazaki cried too as he laid at the feet of a grinning Okita, and he waited for the slow and cruel death.

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[ Kanji Tatsumi | Open | Any Madness Area ]

Open! Any format's good to follow up!