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Entry tags:
(OPEN, player plot) tear it up, burn it down
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ikols & you!
What: Loki has stolen an artefact that has bound itself to him. Over the past 3 weeks, looting and crime has been upping considerably and his new followers, the Court of Mischief, has been getting more vocal about worshipping him this way. Breaking and entering/stealing/general chaos have been rising and as they grow bolder the annoying cult leaders are screaming to anyone who will listen that Loki is the only god of freedom, the Prince of Lies speaks only truths, the Moon King is horned, etc, so that their fanaticism is rapidly turning from something cringe to a brand of dangerous. Perhaps you've encountered some of these gangs lately! They have been indulged by Loki, who found them quite funny at first, and haven't seemed particularly malicious ... until now. The museum is now under their control after the metahumans among them have helped barricade their headquarters within. To solve the problem, heroes and vigilantes may want to step in, but there are only two ways to cure the god-infected: a magic soup (deets in prompts) or smashing the artefact.
When: This has been slowly ramping up since the beginning of March (but RL happened so we're doing it now).
Where: All over Central City.
Content Warnings: tba.
( i. looting. )
[ Minor misdemeanours have been ramping up in activity lately, nothing the policeforce in Central have been too bothered by (albeit irritated that their many doughnut breaks have been interrupted more often than not) yet over the past three weeks the crime in in the city has slowly but surely been increasing. While it was fun at first to encourage the new Pagans who decided to follow him, applauding when they made it out of a store unscathed with scented candles or silly homegood baubles, since Loki's interest has waned theirs has only intensified with a lack of a leader.
Windows are being smashed and shops are looted in broad daylight, and tonight the full moon has them in a fever. The criminals are bedecked in a mass of gold and green, ringleaders wearing horns of various sizes as their disciples (ah, yes, you may notice they have progressed cult status) take what they want with greater arrogance and disregard for their own safety. All chaos and injury is sacred to them. The more they get to fight, the more they enjoy themselves, and for anyone who gets close enough to notice their eyes are glowing green. Loki tries to use illusions to hide himself as he attempts to calm them down, but as you are watching they have an oddly keen way of knowing where he is and throwing themselves at his feet, clawing at his clothes and kissing his hands and boots so that he looks halfway torn between disgusted and flattered.
They get away with a lot even when Loki is actively trying to stop them. A little help, fair onlooker? ]
•
( ii. fervour. )
[ Loki's garbage has been ransacked. His followers, currently smashing up his favourite coffee shop opposite the Diadem hotel and getting a ton of attention in the process as heroes rush into the chaos to try and stop it are cheering that they managed to get his toenail clippings, his old hairbrush, his discarded coffee cups (of which there are many and so being worn as hats) ... It's all a bit crazy.
As in, literally. ]
Stop! Stop, put that back!
[ Loki's followers have metas among them and they are strong, enough to restrain a god as he yells from the sidewalk into the shop currently being gutted. (Any furniture in there may have been touched by Loki! All of it is sacred firewood! A grand bonfire must be made with the blessed wood!) He isn't in his horns or armour, having run out of his apartment and to the street once he noticed the fuss. Heroes are zooming around, alarms are going off, cars are being smashed from sheer proximity ...
It's a brawl of fevered, green-eyed disciples. All hail Loki! All hail the Moon King! ]
I said stop, I don't want this!
•
( iii. the museum. )
[ Loki was seen hastily stealing a book from the library earlier; it has been taken as a sign.
ICON, ICON, ICON! ALL HAIL LOKI, ALL HAIL THE PRINCE OF LIES! GOD OF MISCHIEF! LET CHAOS REIGN!
Such are the roars and screams of the cult as, in their hundreds, they storm the museum like a swarm of glittering ants and take it over. They shove all the artefacts that aren't vaguely space-Viking in vibes to the walls and centralise a shrine to Loki, a wooden effigy with an unnerving likeness to the god himself that the disciples have carved from mistletoe trees, set up in the foyer of the building. The leaders are horned, as usual, and the masses are now armed: they have stabbed many people in their efforts to gain territory tonight. Swords and daggers are the weapons of choice. The metas among them have set up magical wards around the museum, but if you approach them and insist you wish to join the cult they will let you closer ... to try and infect you with a kiss. That's how the magical disease is spreading! Perhaps you made an attempt to understand their motivations or witnessed someone else doing as much.
On a nearby rooftop Loki is flipping through an ancient-looking tome on the apartment building's electric box, using it as a desk. He's dressed in his Asgardian regalia and, as well as his usual daggers, has his ancestral sword holstered at his hip: Laevateinn doesn't see action much, ordinarily. Loki isn't a front-line man by choice. He looks like he's at the end of his tether, muttering angrily about plastic-horned morons and could use some assistance. A bonfire is started atop the roof of the museum that catches his attention when the flames rush up and his eyes widen, watching the disciples dancing around it wildly to screams of fervent adoration. LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!
The endless prayers have his head swimming, unused to such focused, overwhelming worship. The pages of the book flutter in the wind as he wanders to the edge of the building to see the scene below: chaos, pure chaos, the police have barricades rising around the museum and infected metas are circling their new fortress. They spot him and the cry goes up where he stands with a boot on the edge of the building, coat flapping in the wind and horns lit by the fire raised in his honour.
LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!
When shouts start going up from the street, There he is, there's their leader! he realises what his presence there looks like. Uh oh. Onlookers from both sides are rapidly getting the wrong idea, taking the sight of him as approval. ]
ikols & you!What: Loki has stolen an artefact that has bound itself to him. Over the past 3 weeks, looting and crime has been upping considerably and his new followers, the Court of Mischief, has been getting more vocal about worshipping him this way. Breaking and entering/stealing/general chaos have been rising and as they grow bolder the annoying cult leaders are screaming to anyone who will listen that Loki is the only god of freedom, the Prince of Lies speaks only truths, the Moon King is horned, etc, so that their fanaticism is rapidly turning from something cringe to a brand of dangerous. Perhaps you've encountered some of these gangs lately! They have been indulged by Loki, who found them quite funny at first, and haven't seemed particularly malicious ... until now. The museum is now under their control after the metahumans among them have helped barricade their headquarters within. To solve the problem, heroes and vigilantes may want to step in, but there are only two ways to cure the god-infected: a magic soup (deets in prompts) or smashing the artefact.
When: This has been slowly ramping up since the beginning of March (but RL happened so we're doing it now).
Where: All over Central City.
Content Warnings: tba.
( i. looting. )
[ Minor misdemeanours have been ramping up in activity lately, nothing the policeforce in Central have been too bothered by (albeit irritated that their many doughnut breaks have been interrupted more often than not) yet over the past three weeks the crime in in the city has slowly but surely been increasing. While it was fun at first to encourage the new Pagans who decided to follow him, applauding when they made it out of a store unscathed with scented candles or silly homegood baubles, since Loki's interest has waned theirs has only intensified with a lack of a leader.
Windows are being smashed and shops are looted in broad daylight, and tonight the full moon has them in a fever. The criminals are bedecked in a mass of gold and green, ringleaders wearing horns of various sizes as their disciples (ah, yes, you may notice they have progressed cult status) take what they want with greater arrogance and disregard for their own safety. All chaos and injury is sacred to them. The more they get to fight, the more they enjoy themselves, and for anyone who gets close enough to notice their eyes are glowing green. Loki tries to use illusions to hide himself as he attempts to calm them down, but as you are watching they have an oddly keen way of knowing where he is and throwing themselves at his feet, clawing at his clothes and kissing his hands and boots so that he looks halfway torn between disgusted and flattered.
They get away with a lot even when Loki is actively trying to stop them. A little help, fair onlooker? ]
( ii. fervour. )
[ Loki's garbage has been ransacked. His followers, currently smashing up his favourite coffee shop opposite the Diadem hotel and getting a ton of attention in the process as heroes rush into the chaos to try and stop it are cheering that they managed to get his toenail clippings, his old hairbrush, his discarded coffee cups (of which there are many and so being worn as hats) ... It's all a bit crazy.
As in, literally. ]
Stop! Stop, put that back!
[ Loki's followers have metas among them and they are strong, enough to restrain a god as he yells from the sidewalk into the shop currently being gutted. (Any furniture in there may have been touched by Loki! All of it is sacred firewood! A grand bonfire must be made with the blessed wood!) He isn't in his horns or armour, having run out of his apartment and to the street once he noticed the fuss. Heroes are zooming around, alarms are going off, cars are being smashed from sheer proximity ...
It's a brawl of fevered, green-eyed disciples. All hail Loki! All hail the Moon King! ]
I said stop, I don't want this!
( iii. the museum. )
[ Loki was seen hastily stealing a book from the library earlier; it has been taken as a sign.
ICON, ICON, ICON! ALL HAIL LOKI, ALL HAIL THE PRINCE OF LIES! GOD OF MISCHIEF! LET CHAOS REIGN!
Such are the roars and screams of the cult as, in their hundreds, they storm the museum like a swarm of glittering ants and take it over. They shove all the artefacts that aren't vaguely space-Viking in vibes to the walls and centralise a shrine to Loki, a wooden effigy with an unnerving likeness to the god himself that the disciples have carved from mistletoe trees, set up in the foyer of the building. The leaders are horned, as usual, and the masses are now armed: they have stabbed many people in their efforts to gain territory tonight. Swords and daggers are the weapons of choice. The metas among them have set up magical wards around the museum, but if you approach them and insist you wish to join the cult they will let you closer ... to try and infect you with a kiss. That's how the magical disease is spreading! Perhaps you made an attempt to understand their motivations or witnessed someone else doing as much.
On a nearby rooftop Loki is flipping through an ancient-looking tome on the apartment building's electric box, using it as a desk. He's dressed in his Asgardian regalia and, as well as his usual daggers, has his ancestral sword holstered at his hip: Laevateinn doesn't see action much, ordinarily. Loki isn't a front-line man by choice. He looks like he's at the end of his tether, muttering angrily about plastic-horned morons and could use some assistance. A bonfire is started atop the roof of the museum that catches his attention when the flames rush up and his eyes widen, watching the disciples dancing around it wildly to screams of fervent adoration. LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!
The endless prayers have his head swimming, unused to such focused, overwhelming worship. The pages of the book flutter in the wind as he wanders to the edge of the building to see the scene below: chaos, pure chaos, the police have barricades rising around the museum and infected metas are circling their new fortress. They spot him and the cry goes up where he stands with a boot on the edge of the building, coat flapping in the wind and horns lit by the fire raised in his honour.
LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!
When shouts start going up from the street, There he is, there's their leader! he realises what his presence there looks like. Uh oh. Onlookers from both sides are rapidly getting the wrong idea, taking the sight of him as approval. ]
no subject
Almost took my arm off, Red King, but you ... have my thanks.
no subject
Seemed like your fans were ready to take off more than your arm. What happened? Too much mischief even for you?