[GAME EVENT] CAUSE AND EFFECT
May. 22nd, 2007 12:02 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sinanju.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
crossing_lostrpWho: Ash
Where:
When: Day 29, (approx. 4 to 6 a.m.)
Invited: ALL PLAY
Status: Complete
Edited to add: Don't sweat the details of how your characters switched bodies. I added the "touching or close by" requirement to give people an out if they didn't want to have their hharacters swap places. Now I'm revoking it. If you want to join in, forget that. It's simply random--if you and another player want to join the party, just do it. Doesn't matter how close you were or weren't.
Ash closed the double doors of the smaller kitchen/cafeteria and locked them. The last thing he needed was an interruption in the middle of this project. He turned to survey the room, arms akimbo while he thought about what he had to do. "Okay," he said to himself, "first things first. Clear the floor."
Pushing all but one of the tables against the walls and stacking the chairs on them took only a few minutes. Ash laid the instructions on the remaining table and pressed it flat. It was very badly written, but he'd looked it over several times and he was confident that he could manage it. "How hard could it be?" he muttered to himself.
He began assembling all the materials he needed on the table next to the instructions. A glass, a pitcher of water, a box of Dharma brand birthday candles. (The instructions called for six black candles, but these would have to do.) A box of salt, a big black marker, and various other esoteric items. And...coffee, which he'd brewed a few minutes earlier.
But first...Ash picked up the marker in one hand and the instructions in the other. Working slowly and methodically at first, Ash began drawing runes onto the edge of the tabletop. It took a lot of attention. His hand began to cramp after a while. By the time he was done, the figures were considerably less precise than when he'd begun.
"Eh, good enough," Ash decided.
He capped the marker and tossed it away. Then Ash walked over to the stove, poured coffee into a large bowl and carried it to the table. He placed the bowl in the center of the table. Next came the salt. Ash opened the pouring spout on the cannister and began walking around the table, pouring out the salt in a circle, making sure that he was inside it when he completed the circle. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he closed the circle.
"Hrmm, hmmm," Ash muttered, looking over the instructions. "Ah--right, the candles." Ash lit the candles one by one, carefully turning them as wax melted, dripping it onto the tabletop until there was enough to hold each candle upright. Then it was time for the heavy lifting.
Ash picked up a small photograph. He'd gotten it from Daisy, from the wallet of someone who had died in the crash of Oceanic Flight 815. He glanced at the instructions and recited the incantation. "Pro os, statua unus porro lost ut memoria," Ash said, tearing it into bits and dropping the pieces into the coffee.
"Pro auditurus esse, sanus carmen sung ut a parvulus porro.". Ash leaned forward and, feeling very foolish, sang a few bars of a lullaby.
"Pro tactus, sentio parvulus thesaurus,". Ash dropped a pinch of stuffing from a well-worn stuffed animal into the coffee. "Pro nidor, scaena matris diligo." Ash dusted the coffee with baby powder. "Pro sapor, flavor parvulus iucunditas," Ash said, dropping a small piece of chocolate into the coffee.
Ash picked up one of the candles. He held it up over the coffee and recited another incantation. "Hail ut phasmatis of incendia quod unda, terra quod aer! Unbind alica ut redimio nostrum monumentum!" Ash plunged the burning tip of the candle into the brew. The flame hissed and went out. Ash felt some of his strength fade at the same time that a feeling of pressure became noticeable all over his skin.
Ash picked up a second candle and repeated the incantation, quenching the flame in the coffee. The sensation of pressure, of gathering power became more distinct. He did it a third time, and a fourth. By the time he picked up the fifth and final candle, he felt light-headed. It was hard to breathe, the power gathered around him inside the circle of salt tangible and nearly irresistible. Ash recited the incantation and plunged the candle into the coffee.
The power, wound tighter and tighter with each repetition, exploded outward. Ash had a moment to wonder if perhaps he'd done something wrong after all as he was picked up bodily and flung backwards into the stacked chairs and tables behind him. It was very painful, as was crashing to the floor and having the table and chairs fall on top of him. (Maybe,) Ash thought, (he should just give up spellcasting. It never seemed to work out right--)
"It worked!" Ash crowed. "I remember!"
* * *
George's dreams were jumbled, confused--and confusing. She dreamed of her family; of Rube, Roxy, Mason and Daisy; of Dolores and Happy Time. She also dreamed of alien worlds, alien skies, battles and espionage and seduction. She woke slowly, dreams shading into wakefulness. She was lying on her back, one arm wrapped around someone who lay cuddled up with her head on George's shoulder.
Thinking about her dreams, George realized with a sudden shock that she remembered! She knew who all those people were. She knew who she was--and where she was, and how she'd gotten here, events of the last few weeks. All of it! Her eyes popped open, sleepiness banished by excitement. She struggled up to a sitting position--
--and screamed, waking the others. Beside her, Faith, Chloe and George jerked awake. Faith flung herself upright and then tumbled out of bed to sprawl on the floor. Chloe looked around, surprise--and alarm--written on her face. "What's going on? I feel...weak."
And George.... George watched herself--watched her body--sit up and meet her eyes with a crooked smile that just didn't look like it belonged on her face. "Well, this is new," she said, and her voice didn't sound right at all--nothing like George's voice sounded to herself.
George looked down at herself, at the masculine torso. She swallowed heavily and tentatively reached under the covers. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." She found what she'd expected--feared--to find. A penis. "Son of a bitch!"
Yes, boys and girls, it's official. The mass amnesia is over. Everyone has his or her memory back, completely intact. On the other hand...some of you will find yourselves in bodies that are not your own. If your character was touching--or merely in close proximity to--someone else, you will find yourself in someone else's body.
Unlike the mass amnesia, we're not making this universal. If you want to swap around your PCs, go for it.Establish that they were touching or very close at the right (wrong) time. If you want to swap your characters with someone else's, and they're willing to play along, make it so. If, on the other hand, you want to sit back and laugh at other characters' misfortunes, that's okay too.
Have fun with it. It will eventually be reversed....
Where:
When: Day 29, (approx. 4 to 6 a.m.)
Invited: ALL PLAY
Status: Complete
Edited to add: Don't sweat the details of how your characters switched bodies. I added the "touching or close by" requirement to give people an out if they didn't want to have their hharacters swap places. Now I'm revoking it. If you want to join in, forget that. It's simply random--if you and another player want to join the party, just do it. Doesn't matter how close you were or weren't.
Ash closed the double doors of the smaller kitchen/cafeteria and locked them. The last thing he needed was an interruption in the middle of this project. He turned to survey the room, arms akimbo while he thought about what he had to do. "Okay," he said to himself, "first things first. Clear the floor."
Pushing all but one of the tables against the walls and stacking the chairs on them took only a few minutes. Ash laid the instructions on the remaining table and pressed it flat. It was very badly written, but he'd looked it over several times and he was confident that he could manage it. "How hard could it be?" he muttered to himself.
He began assembling all the materials he needed on the table next to the instructions. A glass, a pitcher of water, a box of Dharma brand birthday candles. (The instructions called for six black candles, but these would have to do.) A box of salt, a big black marker, and various other esoteric items. And...coffee, which he'd brewed a few minutes earlier.
But first...Ash picked up the marker in one hand and the instructions in the other. Working slowly and methodically at first, Ash began drawing runes onto the edge of the tabletop. It took a lot of attention. His hand began to cramp after a while. By the time he was done, the figures were considerably less precise than when he'd begun.
"Eh, good enough," Ash decided.
He capped the marker and tossed it away. Then Ash walked over to the stove, poured coffee into a large bowl and carried it to the table. He placed the bowl in the center of the table. Next came the salt. Ash opened the pouring spout on the cannister and began walking around the table, pouring out the salt in a circle, making sure that he was inside it when he completed the circle. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he closed the circle.
"Hrmm, hmmm," Ash muttered, looking over the instructions. "Ah--right, the candles." Ash lit the candles one by one, carefully turning them as wax melted, dripping it onto the tabletop until there was enough to hold each candle upright. Then it was time for the heavy lifting.
Ash picked up a small photograph. He'd gotten it from Daisy, from the wallet of someone who had died in the crash of Oceanic Flight 815. He glanced at the instructions and recited the incantation. "Pro os, statua unus porro lost ut memoria," Ash said, tearing it into bits and dropping the pieces into the coffee.
"Pro auditurus esse, sanus carmen sung ut a parvulus porro.". Ash leaned forward and, feeling very foolish, sang a few bars of a lullaby.
"Pro tactus, sentio parvulus thesaurus,". Ash dropped a pinch of stuffing from a well-worn stuffed animal into the coffee. "Pro nidor, scaena matris diligo." Ash dusted the coffee with baby powder. "Pro sapor, flavor parvulus iucunditas," Ash said, dropping a small piece of chocolate into the coffee.
Ash picked up one of the candles. He held it up over the coffee and recited another incantation. "Hail ut phasmatis of incendia quod unda, terra quod aer! Unbind alica ut redimio nostrum monumentum!" Ash plunged the burning tip of the candle into the brew. The flame hissed and went out. Ash felt some of his strength fade at the same time that a feeling of pressure became noticeable all over his skin.
Ash picked up a second candle and repeated the incantation, quenching the flame in the coffee. The sensation of pressure, of gathering power became more distinct. He did it a third time, and a fourth. By the time he picked up the fifth and final candle, he felt light-headed. It was hard to breathe, the power gathered around him inside the circle of salt tangible and nearly irresistible. Ash recited the incantation and plunged the candle into the coffee.
The power, wound tighter and tighter with each repetition, exploded outward. Ash had a moment to wonder if perhaps he'd done something wrong after all as he was picked up bodily and flung backwards into the stacked chairs and tables behind him. It was very painful, as was crashing to the floor and having the table and chairs fall on top of him. (Maybe,) Ash thought, (he should just give up spellcasting. It never seemed to work out right--)
"It worked!" Ash crowed. "I remember!"
* * *
George's dreams were jumbled, confused--and confusing. She dreamed of her family; of Rube, Roxy, Mason and Daisy; of Dolores and Happy Time. She also dreamed of alien worlds, alien skies, battles and espionage and seduction. She woke slowly, dreams shading into wakefulness. She was lying on her back, one arm wrapped around someone who lay cuddled up with her head on George's shoulder.
Thinking about her dreams, George realized with a sudden shock that she remembered! She knew who all those people were. She knew who she was--and where she was, and how she'd gotten here, events of the last few weeks. All of it! Her eyes popped open, sleepiness banished by excitement. She struggled up to a sitting position--
--and screamed, waking the others. Beside her, Faith, Chloe and George jerked awake. Faith flung herself upright and then tumbled out of bed to sprawl on the floor. Chloe looked around, surprise--and alarm--written on her face. "What's going on? I feel...weak."
And George.... George watched herself--watched her body--sit up and meet her eyes with a crooked smile that just didn't look like it belonged on her face. "Well, this is new," she said, and her voice didn't sound right at all--nothing like George's voice sounded to herself.
George looked down at herself, at the masculine torso. She swallowed heavily and tentatively reached under the covers. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." She found what she'd expected--feared--to find. A penis. "Son of a bitch!"
Yes, boys and girls, it's official. The mass amnesia is over. Everyone has his or her memory back, completely intact. On the other hand...some of you will find yourselves in bodies that are not your own. If your character was touching--or merely in close proximity to--someone else, you will find yourself in someone else's body.
Unlike the mass amnesia, we're not making this universal. If you want to swap around your PCs, go for it.
Have fun with it. It will eventually be reversed....
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[Scott] Must... restrain... cane... of... death...
Date: 2007-05-23 02:15 pm (UTC)Scott planted the cane a short distance ahead of his left foot, shifted his weight to that side, then half-lifted/half-dragged his/House's weak right leg forward. After centering himself he took a step with his left leg, then began the process again. It was ridiculously tiring.
[House] Look ma, no cane!
Date: 2007-05-23 02:43 pm (UTC)Once through the door, and closing it behind him, Greg couldn't resist a final jab, and he leaned up against it, and his voice rose to carry. "Oh... and hope you have a high tolerance for pain. The leg'll be acting up soon, if it hasn't already. The keys to the medicine cabinet are in the bedstand." See how much the pain is in 'his head', and how much is real; Particularly after Scott gets a good look at the damage-ravaged musculature.
[Scott] Tantrum
Date: 2007-05-23 05:31 pm (UTC)His right leg was pretty much the only part of his current body that was pain-free. Nevertheless, Scott slowly made his way down the hall toward his and Ami's room, sweating and gritting his teeth. "Ami! AMI!"
[House] Greener grass... and louder grass!
Date: 2007-05-23 10:38 pm (UTC)*ANGER*
*FEAR*
*sexual turnon*
Emotions, ideas, needs, wants and desires came flooding into his head as a wave crashing down on the shore during storm. No, more like during a nor'easter, as these were loud, insistant, harsh and urgent.
"No!" The bark of anger was quick and sharp as House's...er.. Scott's hands came up quickly to press against his eyes. The flooding in of wave after wave of emotions was difficult enough... he didn't even try to figure out if they were him, or who they might have belonged to. Make it stop!
If Greg didn't do something soon, this would drive him nuts-- having to shout in his own head in order to hear himself think. If thinking was at all possible.
He raised his head again, his hands lowered. Where to go... who to go to... Couldn't go to Scott... he'd laugh. Ami... Scott's 'significant other'... or, The Doctor. Ami'd be a good first try, assuming Scott didn't get there first with his body. If that was the case, he'd deny everything and move on to The Doctor...
[Blaise] Things Just Get Stranger and Stranger
Date: 2007-05-23 11:56 pm (UTC)Blaise rolled out of his rack, stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. He'd been expecting to roll off of the top of a pair of stacked bunks. Instead, he'd been lying in a double bed. One which, to judge by the state of the bedding, he'd been sharing with...someone else. Who was already up and around, apparently.
Looking down at his hands, Blaise knew that something else was wrong. His skin was very dark brown, his hands were smaller than they should be. Long black hair hung around his face, tickling his ears and neck.
And he had breasts, clearly visible to him where the rather skimpy nightgown he was wearing gapped open at the neck. Blaise stared at them for a moment, trying to grasp what was happening--and noting idly that they were very nice breasts.
Then he shook his head and shifted position, sitting seiza with his hands on his thighs. That, at least, was familiar from years of martial arts classes. It felt wrong--his hips were wider than he was used to and the weight of breasts where he shouldn't have any was distracting--but adopting the posture helped.
Blaise concentrated on his breathing, pushing aside his alarm and confusion--pushing aside all the emotions he was sensing. A few minutes of concentration and a little mental fumbling eventually blocked out the babble of voices. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd done that, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
The storm of emotions was another matter. His best efforts did no more than turn it down to a manageable level. (Does Ami have to deal with this all the time?) Blaise wondered. (It has to be Ami's body; there are no other attractive young black women on the island,) he thought--and only then noticed that he had his memory back.
(Yesterday I had my body but no memories. Today I have my memories but not my body,) Blaise thought. (Christ! What else could happen to us?)
Then the door opened. Blaise looked up, thinking, (I'm not ready for this yet....)
[Scott] Hi, honey. I'm home!
Date: 2007-05-24 02:43 pm (UTC)"Ami," Scott panted with the bastard doctor's voice. She was sitting crosslegged on the floor and, unsurprisingly, looked pretty freaked out. (And pretty hot.) "It's me, Scott. The fucking island... it did this, and that bastard House is off *jogging* in my body!"
Ami stared.
"Ami? Say something!"
[Blaise] Bad News, Dear
Date: 2007-05-24 08:01 pm (UTC)Then House spoke, identifying himself as Scott. (Of course,) Blaise thought. (It's not just Ami and me. That would be too simple. Too sane. It's everybody.)
Blaise could feel the anger, frustration and worry radiating off him. That was really strange. Ami really had a...sense that he lacked. More than one, perhaps. The emotions were as real and tangible to him as the heat of tropical sunlight on skin. You never had to guess that the sun was hot--you could feel it directly.
As he could feel Scott's emotions directly. Blaise felt Scott's concern growing, mixed with a transitory pulse of lust. "Ami? Say something!" Scott demanded.
Blaise looked up at Scott. "Bad news, pal," Blaise said. "I'm not Ami. I'm Blaise."
[Scott] Bad News, Dear
Date: 2007-05-25 03:44 am (UTC)Scott's stomach lurched. "No." Not-Ami simply frowned at him. She'd never worn that particular frown before, which drove the point home.
Panic and outrage swept through Scott's borrowed body. His already weak knees buckled. Scott lurched sideways. His shoulder hit the wall, which he slid down unceremoniously. The sheer hopelessness of the situation seemed to push down on him. He was trapped in an aging, ill body that he couldn't heal. Senses he hadn't realized he'd relied on so much were gone. Even worse, he couldn't sense Ami. She could be dead or dying and he'd be none the wiser.
Suddenly Blaise/Ami was beside Scott, and he realized he was crying. Just tearing, but still embarrasing. Scott wiped his face dry with his non-cane hand and pulled himself together the best he could. "Ami. She's in you. Your body. Take me to her. Please!"
[Blaise] I know how you feel...
Date: 2007-05-25 05:01 am (UTC)Scott's panic and outrage was painfully intense at this range. Or maybe it was some special bond between Ami and Scott that made it so strong. They'd been thick as thieves since the day they met. If he hadn't learned better, Blaise would have thought they'd been lovers for years before the crash. Either way it made concentrating more difficult than it ought to be.
Blaise pulled one of Scott/House's arms around his shoulder and pushed up to his feet--or tried to. Scott was a lot heavier than he looked. (Or,) Blaise thought belatedly, (Ami doesn't have the raw muscle I have. Had. Whatever.)
"Let's try that again," Blaise said. Setting himself more solidly, he gave it another try and with Scott's help, got him up on his feet again. "C'mon, Scott," Blaise said, "let's go find A--"
Memories poured into Blaise's consciousness in a rushing torrent, painful, overwhelming. He caught only fragmentary glimpses of a very long life--a young girl becoming a woman, pursuing a career, dying--in a fire? But the memories didn't stop there. They went on and on, too fast for more than vague impressions. It was like trying to drink from a firehose.
Eventually the torrent slowed to a trickle and ended. Blaise had one clear impression of a dimly lit room. Daisy sat up, shocked to find herself in a room with Claire and her infant son--and even more shocked to find herself in Damon's body and aware of Blaise looking over her shoulder, figuratively speaking.
She didn't like it at all, any of it. The connection between them snapped abruptly. Blaise sagged against the wall, feeling Scott scrabbling to hold him up now.
"Blaise! Blaise, talk to me! What's wrong?" His panic was evident in his voice. It pressed in on Ami's psychic senses too, sharp and uncomfortably intense.
Blaise got his feet under him once more and pushed himself up to a standing position again. "N-nothing," he said, "Nothing's wrong. I just got a big dose of--of Daisy. She's...swapped places with Damon, I guess."
He summoned up a wry grin for Scott. "It's that kind of day, I guess." He let it fade. "Now let's go see Ami," he added, and started them shuffling out of the room.
Redirect
Date: 2007-05-25 12:30 pm (UTC)[House] Taking that jog
Date: 2007-05-24 03:36 pm (UTC)For the moment, however... if he could get the pounding out of his head, the virtual yelling at the tops of their 'lungs' as to emotional states (he realized early on that nothing was set in words. It was all -feeling-), he'd be fine. And, barring finding The Doctor, which was getting lower on his 'to-do' list as each second marched by, the idea of going out running was getting better and better. Get a good sweat going, get away from the bunker (who knew how far Scott could pick up on things?), and take the time to gather himself together, to take inventory.
House took those first steps, then as he got used to the pace, began to lope down the corridor, passing a couple panicked people on the way (Stop it! Get out of my head!), and gratefully pushed on the exit door to get out into the fresh morning air.
EXIT HOUSE IN SCOTT'S BODY