multiversallogs | Entries tagged with } balthazar

Who: Deacon Frost and others! Open log.
What: The aftermath of Mafaton's siege, and ensuing broke-dimension chaos.
Where: Mafaton.
When: Throughout the first week, necessarily at night unless you're tagging in in the undercity.
Notes: Various places to tag in! Either clearing out remaining Candlelighters, or helping defend or simply socialising in Gutters, hunting during the night time for both food and big-uglies to kill. Feel free to PM/plurk me if you have any questions or need some ideas, I'm good for thread-starting!
Warnings: Violence, NPC death, monster horrors.

It's a cliche, about vampires being territorial. This thought strikes Deacon as funny, because sometimes he fancies himself a little more sophisticated than the average vampire. Enlightened, if you will. But it's Baedal's fault for marking the neighbourhood of Mafaton so clearly on the map, for giving them something to possess in the first place.

Whatever. It's his town, now.

( but you can get by )

baedalites

Who: Everyone.
What: Part two begins.
When: Evening, a few hours before the end of the 24-hour siege period.
Notes: Feel free to thread in comments here or make your own posts! NPC your own monsters, team up in locations anywhere you like, and feel free to plot things at the plotting post, which has the relevant details. Remember that this is city-wide, so you are free to do what you like with locations.

Just after dark, the air of Baedal seems to change. While it was tense before, with the stand-off in Mafaton, a new kind of electrical energy begins to spread through the city, leaking from the sky itself. The horizon is clear tonight, even starry where the city lights don't obscure the view, but soon enough it begins to blur with color, and at an alarmingly rapid pace. Bright streaks of pink and green begin to spiral across the sky, in an approximation of the auroras, though it is much nearer and brighter than any common demonstration of an aurora should be. The geomagnetic storm swirls and dances, initially beautiful, but its intensity is ominous.

It's also growing. Most geomagnetic storms stay to one corner, but this spreads across the entire sky, green-purple-pink-red illuminated and inching further into the dark, leaving the city of Baedal tinted with a dim, eerie glow. This continues for about a half an hour, until that tension reaches its breaking point.

The magical boundaries holding Mafaton crack and then completely shatter. It is audible, and the backlash sends flying many of the Candlelighters trying frantically to preserve the borders of their siege. A few of them are killed by the backlash of their spell's combustion, but more are simply shaken; having one's magic work so thoroughly broken is not a pleasant experience. The sound covers another tearing, this time a metaphysical one that rips the heavens open in places the common eye can't see. Those whose vision allows them to observe different layers of reality will notice, but others will only see the incoming flood of creatures from other universes.

One siege has ended, but another has just begun, and this time, it's not just Mafaton at risk.

wingwalker

Who: Xas & You
What: Feels about religion, followed by feels about plants, and also new acquaintances/friends/enemies.
Where: In or around Chimer. Specifically the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in the morning to early afternoon, then the Chimer City Trail Park - but he could have wandered elsewhere by nightfall, although he'll have a plant with him.
When: All day Shundi.
Notes: I have never done this summary-y type thing before. I'm sorry if it's the worst. Also, a rough approximation of clothes, minus the goofy hat and creepy mannequin face.
Warnings: None, I think. If anything comes up in the comments, I'll edit accordingly.

( be gentle )

molotovmartinis

Who: Penelope, Balthazar, and two unfortunate NPCs
What: Balthazar made a deal with Penelope, and is now fulfilling his terms (sort of)
Where: an abandoned building in Serpolet
When: afternoon
Notes: this log is closed but there are planned consequences! However, if your character might become aware of the disappearance of 3 NPCs in the Spatters, and get proactive about it, it is totally possible for MOAR CONSEQUENCES to happen.
Warnings: mental and physical torture (no explicit detail of the process, but some description of NPC injuries); cannibalism; the obligatory Balthazar creepfest

( Three to five business days. )

molotovmartinis

Who: OPEN
What: cheap Tarot card readings
Where: Aspic, on the edge of the bazaar
When: all day!
Notes: Balthazar's permissions, especially important if your character has any supernatural aspects
Warnings: Balthazar is a creep! But he is also pretending to be someone else so he may be less creepy. Who knows.

Divination is an industry in Baedal: seers and those with farsight are fairly commonplace, and if you're looking for reliable, there are better places to go than Aspic's bazaar.

But if you're looking for cheap, or just for entertainment, then this teeny booth is promising. Many of the props Balthazar is using are real; for example, the tent, table, the chair, the deck of Tarot cards, and the sign with the prices ("past/present/future - ₭2") are all real and exactly as they seem. But the person lounging behind the table is covered with illusions. On the outermost surface, which is a thin glamour, it's a young lady with long red hair and dark eyes. She's wearing a heavy, shapeless black dress made of wool with tights, an overcoat, and a bright yellow scarf.

Beneath that layer is a middle-aged woman with fading red hair and tired eyes, in the same clothing. It's a much stronger illusion, more realistic than the pretty top layer, and has its own scent of bitter tea and harsh soap.

Beneath that layer is Balthazar as he often appears, a businessman in a three piece pinstriped suit, perhaps in his mid to late thirties. And beneath that, of course, is his true self, the rotten face of a demon. Anybody able to see that far in may pick up hints of sulfur. He's sure there are people who can see him as he is; some of them hurry past, some of them don't care. Some of them can only see the aging woman. It doesn't much matter to him. He huddles in the scant protection the tent covers, though of course he's never cold, watching those that pass him by, and tapping his fingers next to the worn deck as he waits.

meanwhileback

Who: Penelope Lane
What: A horrible accident, and its aftermath
Where: Chimer, about four blocks from Penelope and Ruby's apartment
Notes: If you'd like your character to come upon the scene and/or notice what happened, feel free to tag in! Obviously Penelope's too out of commission to do much interacting, though.
Warnings: Violence and fairly serious injury.

Chimer at night is dead space. Especially at this time of year, when it's cold and damp and windy and pitch-dark, there's only very rarely anyone outside walking a dog at most, and even then, they're hustling along, bundled head to toe, praying to any of the city's gods that will hear them to let their business be over with as soon as possible.

Which is why, as Penelope rushed home from a long night of putting in overtime at her studio, as she so often has been in the past month or two, she never saw it coming.

---

Afterwards, the official report would state, and the media would report, that it was a carriage accident, a hit-and-run, most likely a runaway-horse situation that knocked her to the ground, rendering her unconscious, and caused some moderate injury. Anyone who knows the truth would know things were a little more fishy than that. A hit-and-run, for example, could conceivably cause the broken arm, ankle and various deep bruises and other small wounds, but likely in totally different areas, and they definitely wouldn't stop to deliberately pose the victim's body before fleeing the scene.

They certainly wouldn't leave a note claiming that the victim deserved what they got because they were a filthy witch who has been using black magic to taint their fair city, and that there would be more of the same coming to anyone else who practiced their corrupt manipulations.

But of course, none of that would make the newspapers. All they would say is that a local Chimer woman, a recent arrival who had rocketed to prosperity in a shockingly brief period of time after starting a thriving business, was involved in an accident early Sukkardi morning.

The papers would further report that as of press time, the woman has been confirmed to be in Fair condition.

charismatic

Who: Will and YOU
What:Apartment hunting and meeting/re-meeting(?) folks, hopefully.
Where: He's running all over the city and also works out a Tinker's Lot, so feel free to pick wherever.
When: Givdi/Thursday, all day.
Notes: Heyyyy, giving this a try. :|b I never have anything interesting to put in this field.
Warnings: None!

Scheduling at Tinker's Lot can be a bit tricky - there's always someone testing something, but it's hard to tell how long any particular trial is going to last. Out of the several things Will's been hired to try in the last few days, only one or two have been anything approaching successful - but it means he usually has some downtime between jobs, at least. It also means that, since he only had a couple scheduled runs this morning, he's free to spend the rest of the day looking around for a place to live once it's time to leave the Inn at the end of the week. He's not exactly sure what his budget's going to be, then, but he's got enough of an idea to ride the train around town and look at what's available.

He's still a little bit sore, but his body is readjusting as quickly as can be expected to an entirely new set of exertions and conditions, so taking a long walk (even if half of it is spent crammed into a train compartment) is probably good for him.

gwynn

Who: EVERYONE IN THE WORLD
What: When it's time to party we will always party hard.
Where: Megan's apartment, Howl Barrow
When: Sukkardi/Saturday night
Notes: Threadjacking is encouraged. Also, again, if you want to tag in but your character wouldn't just show up, feel free to assume Megan befriended them somewhere and dragged them over/invited them personally.
Warnings: Preemptive warnings for drug use, naughty language and sexual situations.

Megan's housepartment (it looks like a house to her, but the realtor assured her it is an apartment, okay, whatever) is a quaint little thing in the middle of a friendly, middle class Howl Barrow street that is deceptively tame by day and comes alive by night. Her neighbours are super chill, which is her favourite part of living here -- she asked around about a party, if the noise would be a problem, and nobody had any problem with it. Howl Barrow rules.

The inside's a bit furnitureless right now -- she's got a few mismatched chairs and a pull-out sofa, that's about it -- but she's already started decorating a little, hanging art on the walls and putting up nice curtains. (Nobody is allowed to puke on her new curtains.) She's well-stocked with a wide selection of alcohol, ranging from mid-price beer to hard liquor, and snacks, nothing fancy.

She's got her bong out too, yeah.

By 7, there's already a couple people milling about and drinking -- coworkers from the Vault, mostly. Music's playing from an old suitcase turntable set up on the kitchen counter, it's something Baedal-native, hard rock, and in an alien language.

For the shy and/or drunken Snow Whites, there's a friendly, fluffy ragdoll cat lounging around, casually draping herself wherever is most convenient for attention and adulation. Caution: do not give cat beer.

molotovmartinis.livejournal.com

Who: Balthazar and anybody
What: creeping, most likely
Where: here and there, hither and thither
When: whenever is convenient
Notes: Balthazar's permissions! If you don't have yours done, please do them before tagging me, so that I don't godmode anyone.
Warnings: Senator Ickyface is Chairman of Creepery, and generally unpleasant. Grossness could happen! ... it's kind of always a possibility with him.

His room at the Valhalla Inn stays, for the most part, empty and unused. Sometimes he puts things there just in case anyone is checking, and he drops by every few days to pester Fish at night. He's come no closer to figuring out what exactly Fish is, but he's wary of using magic in Baedal; nothing feels right, or rather, the way he's used to, and besides, it's more fun this way.

Day and night he wanders Baedal. He's been in most of the city by now, sometimes shielded from the general view by his illusory powers, sometimes layered in illusion, and sometimes, as he is now, out in the open. Adaptation of his image is absolutely necessary, which he is accustomed to due to his many years on earth; Baedal lacks the sheer volume of material greed that an industrialized society supports and maintains, but gold is still a motivator. He has not entirely abandoned the suit, but today it is less obnoxious. The tie, however, is still horrendous.

Today he moves among people, gently sowing casual chaos. Occasionally he utilizes his powers to pick a pocket, but only to transfer the money to someone else's. He looks at people hard, trying to learn the subtleties and nuances of their nature to determine what exactly they are. At home, he used four basic categories: celestial, infernal, human, and non-human. These are entirely inadequate even just out on the street. And, too, he knows that probably some of them can see him the same way he's seeing them — but he's hardly that weird in comparison to many xenians, so the reaction is muted. It's interesting and novel to him, and he's looking out for those slight and small tells.

molotovmartinis.livejournal.com

Who: Hamilton Fish esq. and Balthazar
What: RELEASE THE HOUND. JUST THE ONE HOUND.
Where: the Valhalla Inn arrival room
When: well, night...
Notes: oh hi friend
Warnings: ~~Bugs Bunny style face smooching~~ look I can't that's so hideous

Still not entirely certain this isn't some kind of bizarre scenario designed to make him further incriminate himself for Hell's entertainment, leading to even more hilarious torture, Balthazar stands quite still, very near to the door. With all the protective... whatever is going on in or on it or intrinsic to the material, he can't really feel outside the room with his creepy pseudo-psychic senses. He doesn't know if there's anybody waiting, or who might answer the door, or if the person that does open it will have any significance. He thinks, though doubt creeps in from time to time, that he just knows Hell's little quirks after so many years — it's a part of him, how can he not? — but the possibility lingers and nags. If he were younger, he might straighten his tie. As it is, he knows full well that his entire appearance can no more be disheveled than a Ken doll (Constantine tossing him around aside). The tightening occurs entirely in his mind, pulling his appearance and aura together so bad vibes aren't continuously leaking through the way he usually allows them to.

He knocks. It's polite, because there's not much smarm you can inject into that kind of thing.

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Entries tagged with } balthazar

you might take one more night

the sky is falling.

(no subject)

this is totally what Penelope asked for (no it isn't)

I want my money back.

this is the time of night where the moonlight shines down and we can reveal who we truly are

[OPEN!]

blow a kiss for all the hearts they gon drop

open log: mOuOm

creeping up the backstairs, mother's nightmare

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