⇨ INVASION!

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone! But especially HARBINGERS!
When: S2:D16-22
Where: All over Wismuth!
What: As the Harbingers reveal themselves, those among the carnival that Creation has chosen will start to discover new powers within themselves. It's because they're magical girls, yo.
Warnings: Harbingers being assholes.

HARBINGERS OF VOID↴ On Day 16, the Harbingers begin revealing their new selves... in the form of wreaking havoc on the city! CY-Ren isn't looking for mass panic or serious structural damage - instead she wants constant annoyances and distractions, of the sort that will keep those that might be on her tail distracted from her true plans. However, when Creation is faced with the threat of twelve new Harbingers, it will have to fight in kind... ► HARBINGERS: Your job is to use your powers to create messes for other people to clean up! CY-Ren gives no specific instructions outside of a general framework... flex your powers! See what you can do. Don't destroy the city or anything, but give Creation a run for its money. She needs these civilians alive for her later plans. ► STAR GUARDIANS: Twelve members of the carnival have been chosen by Creation to fight in its name, even if they don't realize it yet. When confronted by the Harbinger's chaos, their Sparks will make themselves known in whatever form is appropriate to the character - and they will be asked if they are willing to use the power of their soul to fight the darkness. How this scene plays out can be flexible, but essentially they will find themselves faced with the question: are they willing to fight for the preservation of life? If they say yes, their Spark will emerge, and they will be able to trigger a magical girl transformation, as you do. ► CHARITY CONCERT: While everyone else is busy with the sudden rise of the Harbingers, CY-Ren's PR team is releasing a statement -- they will say that new information has revealed that there had been bomb threats made against the canceled concert, which are now being blamed for the damages. CY-Ren will make a personal statement, saying that in order to apologize for the failure of her previous performances, a new free to attend event is being planned for the near future - people who had tickets to the previous event and had to go home early get top priority!

Comments

[spaghettimonster]

As the bones crack and shatter around him, Papyrus spins to break more of them just because he can, he can break them and free himself and--!

The bone splinters as it crashes against them, Papyrus punctuating the cracks with furious muttered refusals, and once he's surrounded by red dust and fading lights he turns to look for his brother. His jailer. And the anger he's unable to feel at CY-Ren or the Void, thanks to her geased loyalty, churns up and projects onto this next best target.

Trapped, helpless, in pain, and here's the cause of it, a thought says. There's no way out of it.

Once you destroy everything, there won't be any more pain.

He shivers as more bones form a ring around him, finally letting go of the assumption he needs to hold these heavier physical bones. In this place, without gravity, there's no need to. They're not bullets, but they're bone magic and his. They'll follow his commands as any other would.

The bone barrage hurls through the space between them, the bones traveling in pairs such that they'll collide along the way, to shatter into a field of shrapnel. They're filled with anger and pain, still, but also the nightmares of a cracked and broken skeleton, of being alone and forgotten.

[osteothropy]

He had one ace in the hole here, the gift from the Ringmaster that's been securely around his neck this whole debacle. It's purpose was straight forward - it could deflect a single, lethal attack each day. He'd only had to use it once before, to protect against a void creature that had attacked him while he spied on the Penthouse, but it seemed like a good fit. Sans's strategy wasn't to soak damage, it was to avoid it.

One hit could make all the difference with him. Here, though - this isn't one hit. It's done with a killing intent that Sans had never anticipated, and it's all over the place. While the scarab necklace dutifully springs to life, warding off the very beginning of the assault, he already knows it won't be enough. He can sense his own death on the horizon, just as clearly as he had for any lost soul back in Portland.

Maybe he could have teleported away, in the time the scarab bought for him. But, the thing is... it could protect him from the shrapnel, but it didn't protect him from the toxic dust created by it. His world starts sinking into something paralyzingly dark before the pendant's protection has even given out. When it does... it almost seems like it will be a relief.

The soul knows. It's the monster species' greatest weakness. There's no way he can be meant to survive such vicious killing intent from his own brother.

He feels the emotional pain more than he feels the physical part. He doesn't even really know what happens to his body, after the strikes, though on the outside it's more clear - bones peppered into dust by sharp edges, leaking bright blue ectoplasm along side. The lack of floor or walls means that he's just left floating when it's finished, the worst wounds already starting to break apart and disintegrate, as all monsters do.

His remaining hand clutches at his face, one pinprick eye still focused on Papyrus as everything falls apart. He's practically numb with despair. The light of his wings and halo flicker and go out, releasing into a faint gold aura around the two of them.

"M-Maybe you're right," is all he can manage, before willfully letting go.

[spaghettimonster]

It doesn't go quiet immediately; a few of the bone fragments keep colliding, fragmenting further as they spread through the dark space.

But it does, eventually, and then there's no sound except Papyrus' movements, those of a skeleton still shaking. Trembling, the one splintered bone still loose in his hand.

"About... what?" he asks, voice rough - from all the screaming, maybe.

Something's wrong with his thinking. He stares at the familiar clothing and personal effects floating in that dust cloud like he expects an answer. As though this was a trick, as though Sans teleported somewhere at the last second, and the mass of dust was residue from the void bones. Or, maybe, like the time with the wolf - and he was secretly unconscious in the pile of his own dust.

Papyrus reaches a hand into the cloud to confirm: dust like a monster's, mixed with that awful blue slime he bleeds these days. No hidden brother, no note left behind. No signs or sounds of Wismuth reappearing around him.

...It seems Sans was telling the truth. There's still no way out.

"No, no no, no no no," he desperately denies, twisting and turning to look in every direction. No exit, no exit, no brother and no exit and there's nothing. It's dim and featureless, nothing but him and the slowly expanding cloud of dust. He bursts away, blue magic propelling him into the space, but something about it seems to twist and turn back on itself as the woods around the carnival do.

Papyrus exhausts himself, moving around and trying to make something change. Forming bones of any type - void-touched, white or blue, perfect volleys or frantically misshapen constructs - and flinging them into the distance. Even summoning a blaster, shooting light into the dim ambiguous distance.

Nothing works.

The space fills with bones, at least, it doesn't stay featureless and forcing himself in on himself... and he could cover his face to hide from the dust...

But after some time - an hour? Two? More? - he remembers there's no need to hide from this. This is what's supposed to happen. What needs to happen. It wasn't the way he'd wanted, the timing... but what were those hopes but dreams, and what were dreams but the lies of existence? He's been here before. He already learned this. Playing games along the way was fine, but losing his focus... just made everything hurt again, even worse.

He lets his bone constructs dissolve, and stares at the cloud of dust as it grows thinner and thinner, until he's almost staring at the Void again.



Several hours later, the pocket dimension collapses in a nondescript street in Wismuth, expelling a cloud of dust. A small heap of things covered in dusty blue goo - clothing, a scarab pendant, various personal belongings - fall together into a fire lane. A skeleton, hidden under a human-shaped glamour, lands nearby and breathes for the first time in half a day... then walks away.

Beyond the artificial lights dotting the city, it's getting dark.