(Not) Everyone’s A Hero

[beholding_archivist]

WHO: Jon & YOU
WHERE: Billy's fantasy city
WHAT: Supervillain Time! - Includes a 'Beat Up Some Nasty Monsters' sort-of mingl-y option?
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: E Y E S - Also low amount of Zalgo text.

While not as imposing as some of the skyscrapers surrounding it, the building of the Magnus Institute is not one easy to ignore. It has the weight of age and knowledge to it, easily looking way older than the city itself and yet no one can truly say just how long the Institute has existed.

No one but Jonathan Sims, head of said Institute despite his little habit of referring to himself as The Archivist. And maybe he does fulfill that role. Maybe he doesn't. The Archives are about as off-limit as the research lab, the artifact storage and the man's very private library. Both sit way beneath the Institute and are places he won't even bring his mothcats into. He rather lets them roam the city while he busies himself down there, keeping their eyes on heroes, villains and pedestrians while their master contemplates his most recent acquisitions.

It's an odd collection: A tape recorder, a golden lighter with a spider web design and a framed artwork of an eye that he can't help but feel very much observed by. Despite wearing thick gloves, Jon feels reluctant to touch either of these items even though he desperately wants to.

Is that eye drawn out of hundreds if not thousands of smaller eyes?

Jon shudders slightly and pulls his hand back upon realizing he has been reaching for the drawing again, but he remains unable to shake off that growing sensation of wrongness. Of having forgotten something. Of buried knowledge pressing its way back forward, trying to make itself known again.

Hundreds tiny eyes focus on him and he can feel their gaze, feel them attempting to inflict their knowledge on him and he winces, remembering. "...no."

The Tower

The sky darkens. It's a gradual effect beginning above the Institute and spreading outward from there. But what blocks out the sun aren't clouds, it's pure darkness. And as the city is swallowed by it, the Institute's building shifts and warps, reshaping itself into a massive, dominating tower, swallowing structures and skyscrapers around it as magical reality gets challenged by eldritch magic.

These two powers colliding is hardly a competition. It's a struggle of each power attempting to swallow the other, magic crackling and clashing and illuminating the dark sky above.

Down below at the steps of what used to be the Institute, the Archivist staggers outside, grimacing against the throbbing pain in his head and struggling to close bright green glowing eyes. But he can't. He has to see.

He has to see everything.

The Eye [ Jon won't react to this option. But go wild beating things up or borrow them for other prompts. ]

The sky blinks open above the city and its massive pupil focuses on literally everyone.

Everyone already adept at sensing magic will notice a much darker flow within the magic present in the city. It pulses with a need. A mindless hunger. And it gets stronger the closer one gets to the dark, now looming tower. But that isn't the only thing increasing the closer one gets to the tower. Flying monsters the size of small cars and looking like giant eyeballs with further eyeballs sprouting from them roam the streets and places around the tower.

These Beholders will stare straight into a person's very being and draw out what they fear the most to drink in that terror. If threatened, they will fire beams of twisted reality from those smaller eyeballs connected to them.

Another type of monster lurking especially around the base of the tower is more human-shaped, and, in fact, they may have been humans at some point. They appear like slouched-over figures wearing dark robes and will lie unmoving on the ground unless they detect nearby movement. Which is when these Servitors will rise and reveal that underneath the hood of their robes is nothing but a single eyeball, a little larger than a human head would be. They don't pursue as actively as the Beholders, but they will grab and hold a person daring to come too close to the tower, seeking to extract what secrets and vulnerabilities the potential intruder might have.

And then there are the cameras. Large creatures that venture even farther than the Beholders and made entirely of eyeballs of different sizes. They? Will only watch. But they will do so relentlessly.

The Archivist

He isn't touching the ground. He simply has decided that he doesn't need to and so he doesn't touch the ground. Because reality is what he makes of it.

The chuckle escaping Jon's throat is discordant, his voice shifting with a variety of distortions. He hasn't decided what his voice should be just yet. But he will figure it out. But until he has made that decision, Jon will make a few others. Important decisions such as that certain buildings in his way simply shouldn't exist. That the terrified screams of those that have just lost their homes are really just shades of purple. That this rental car over there is better off flattened for no particular reason.

Unless terror is a reason, of course. For he finds himself at the receiving end of the most wonderful dread, both due to his own actions and the creatures he has inflicted upon what reality used to be.

But just as he sets his mind on a new target, Jon spots something else. A person. One of those- Heroes?

"I̻̎ s̙̝͆̽e̼͔ͨ͆ͥẽ̟̩̰ͥ́.̫͋͐"

The Wildcard

[[ Anything else and stuff goes here. ]]

Comments

The Archivist

[demjiin]

There were plenty of people from Temba that had sprouted superpowers in the redesigned city. But even still, seeing someone hover a few inches above the sidewalk as they moved consistently was a little bit disturbing.

It was impossible not to notice the clash between Eldrich power and the magic that was battling for dominance above the Magnus Institute and indeed the Institute itself. So in the search for others that might not be completely claimed by the reality-warping magic, Kaz went there next. At the moment he was standing calmly on the sidewalk, both hands folded over his cane as he watched Jon float closer.

[beholding_archivist]

The Archivist considers the man quietly for several moments.

No. Not a hero. At least not in the traditional sense. But there is... A fear. An uneasiness.

"S̯̽k̘̅i̠͑ň͙.͔̌̎" The Archivist says simply, flickering in- and out of existence for a moment, though his glowing eyes never truly disappear. As this happens about a dozen mannequins appear around Kaz, all posed in exaggerated, even distorted ways. They have no faces, but every one of them is very clearly wearing a layer of actual skin over their plastic selves.

And without getting any closer, the Archivist will let Kaz know that this is all actual human skin.

[demjiin]

Well, this isn't going as he'd thought at all.

"I had assumed there would be more than one word."

The mannequins covered in actual human skin were definitely disturbing. Moreso while Kaz was doing anything he could to avoid touching them. This, of course, meant that he was surrounded and therefore trapped in place. The fact he just somehow knew that they were covered in skin at all was equally disturbing but for a different reason.

[beholding_archivist]

"Y͢o̴u͜ a͏s͠s͘ưm҉e̕d̶ w͘r͝ǫņg͡.̵" The Archivist informs Kaz and two of the mannequins shakily turn their heads towards him. Another two shudder slightly while shifting their pose slowly into a somewhat straighter one.

"Y͡ǫu̕ k̴n̷òw̶ w̵h͠ý y͟ơu͏ a̛r͟e҉ h̢e͝r̛e͏.̛"

The Tower

[wearingthestars]

What the hell is happening?? Billy looks up at the sky with a creased brow, stomach twisting in a way that can't be full attributed to his anxiety. His head hurts, and it's discomfort more than fear that urges him to get out of here.

For a moment he hesitates, catching sight of the man on the stairs. He looks like he's in pain, but then Billy catches his eye and it's like his breath had been stolen from him.

He needs to get out of here.

[beholding_archivist]

Billy's presence has Jon freeze in place and direct his attention fully on the boy.

Oh.

...oh.

Jon takes a few not entirely steady steps forward, wincing at the noise and the everything crashing into his head, but he yet manages to narrow his glowing eyes at Billy.

"It's... you!" He says those words just as a thick fog rolls in around Billy, quicker than it has any right to.

[wearingthestars]

His chest grows tight, feet feeling rooted the ground, and for a moment Billy can't move, caught in that gaze. The fog finally spurs him into action, stumbling aimlessly to try and escape it, Jon's words echoing in his mind.

He fumbles for his phone as he tries to flee. Tommy can get him out of here. Or Mom. God, what's happening?!

[beholding_archivist]

While Billy tries to get away, Jon remains where he is, with merely the glow of his eyes intensifying for a couple more moments, then staying fixed.

"I̵ k̕n̴o̴w͠ w͠h͏a͏t̶ y͞ǫu͞ ąr͢e͜ t̷r̸y̕i͝n͜g̷.̧" The Archivist says calmly, the twitching in his face evening out as the fog has reached a density the boy won't be able to simply walk out of. Billy's calls for help from his phone? Will only result in notices of having been blocked.

"N̵o͞ o͡ńe̷ w͟íl̸l҉ çǫm̷e̵ f͢o͢r̸ y͏o̶u͠.̢"

The Archivist

[happybeeps]

"I need everyone down here!" Poe repeats into his walkie, gesturing for fleeing civilians to clear the area. This is insane. "We need the streets blocked off from 4th to East Avenue, and -shit what was that-- "

The walkie hisses, and Agent Dameron pulls his gun on the floating figure, not sure how much good it's going to do as that car simply crumples to his right.

"That's far enough," he warns.

[beholding_archivist]

The Archivist turns his head towards the man aiming his gun at him.

Which is a remarkably bad idea. The Archivist's voice is calm and deliberate as he informs the agent of his miscalculation. "Y̢͎̌o̵̤ͬu̧͚ͯ c̛͓̄a̗ͫ͡n̷̮ͩ'̤ͣ͝t̡̖͐ h͉́͟u̩ͨ͡r͎̉͞t̥̑̀ m̢̱ͥe̤͌͢ w̜̌͜i̫ͪ͘t̴͔̂h̢͙̎ t̄҉̬h̗ͭ͡ḁ͌͟t̯ͤ͢.̷̭̊"

He makes no move, no gesture, no sound when the weapon in Poe's hand breaks apart into many small bones that fall out of his grip and clatter to the ground before him.

[happybeeps]

"..."

Agent Dameron's eyes widen and he visibly recoils, stepping back as the bones clatter to the ground. His stomach drops like a lead weight, and he struggles to keep a level head, grip tight on the walkie, hardly hearing the hiss of the airway.

This was not good.

Nope.

He holds his palm out instead, brow set.

"...Backup's on the way. Let's just talk about this, hmm?"

He can't take him down, but maybe he can keep his attention focused on him until help arrives.

[beholding_archivist]

While he doesn't reply verbally, the Archivist doesn't take his eyes of Dameron.

The skin of the hand the man holds out in his direction begins to crack and break away, revealing tendons and muscle beneath it before these, too, fall away and leave his hand a pure skeletal one.

And Dameron will know that the Archivist has nothing to say to him. That attempting to stall is pointless, but also that the Archivist has no real intention to kill anyone for good. No one is of any use to him once they are permanently dead...

The Archivist

[kree_soldieress]

[While she might not properly belong in this world, that didn't change the fact that there were things that must be dealt with when they arose, and this was one of those situations. A massive eye in the sky, fear and suffering all around, and in the middle of it Jon? No, Lauri-Ell would not stand for this.

Clad in the strange mix of her Accuser armor and the flow of plants and flowers that was the costume of Flower Power, Lauri-Ell stood in the road looking up at Jon, her hammer held in hand. She tapped it against the ground, creating a force field around herself.]

I believe we need to talk. Would you please cease your attempts to cause destruction so we might speak?

[beholding_archivist]

N͠ơ.͢

[ The voice speaking this word may be distorted, yet speaks in an oddly soft tone nonetheless. He doesn't say another word, and yet Lauri-Ell will undoubtedly find herself knowing that he plans to turn the entire place into a rich feeding ground for himself as well as the being granting him its power.

He makes no attempt to disrupt her force field, but from the flickering buildings around them the screams that have been colors become very much audible again, taking the verbal part of this conversation out of his hands. ]

[kree_soldieress]

[Ah. that word was not good for hopes of negotiation. It seemed conflict must be joined. Lauri-Ell lifted her weapon then, thrusting it forward toward Jon, unleashing a burst of cerulean light.]

Then you must fall!

The Tower

[deal_me_in]

Eugh, what is even happening?! It doesn't take a genius to figure something's going on, and that that something is not good.

The Exo had been doing some sleuthing and had felt pretty proud of himself for it. Some of his friends are easier to locate after all, if you know what to look for. But as he nears the Institute he has to wonder about his timing. Which is of course impeccable. For better or for worse.

There's an unease creeping through him as he watches the dark spread across the skies and warp things, and when a giant freakin' eye blinks open he can't help for an audible yelp. "That's not right." But...he's sure he's seen something like it before...

By then when he looks towards his original destination it's changed considerably, making him stop dead in his tracks, but only briefly as he sees someone stepping outside. The glowing green eyes remind him of someone else altogether, but he brushes that thought off, breaking into a run.

"Jon!"

[beholding_archivist]

Jon is still struggling and trying to close his eyes without any success, head throbbing as the world around him seems to vibrate in and out of existence.

This can't be the work of a single artifact!

The thought crosses his mind as he sees a person running towards him, calling his name and he flinches back out of reflex - Another of Stark's bodyguards? But--

"Stop-" He tries to call out, but his voice breaks off. So he tries once more.

"S̷̲̭̦̤͑͑͒T̰̆̈̈́̑͘͢͟O͊͒͒͜͏̶͇P̝͇͋́!̵̛̦͇̅̅̏͟"

[deal_me_in]

It's not that he was planning to stop, but there are certain tones that just demand some kind of direct response. Honestly, Cayde's not sure whether he stops because of the command itself or because of the weirdness to it. The look a moment ago hadn't gone unnoticed, not that he knows why the man had flinched exactly.

"Jon, it's me! Cayde!" he rallies on, trying a slower approach because of course weird metal men running towards you would make anyone concerned. Well no, but he supposes around here it's a high possibility.

The Archivist vs The Sleep Talker

[mrsklover]

This city is never short on cruel surprises. Still, Richie can't help but be disappointed in his luck when he sees the world adjusting around him and the strange, floating man at the center of it. He'd been on his way to a date five seconds before reality just decided to fuck off and do whatever it felt like. Still, from years of practice, he kept his mouth shut and didn't even let out a peep as the man's eyes turned toward him.

His blood went cold in his veins at the words. 'I see'? Fuck that. Fuck all of that.

Richie took a few steps backward, not looking away as he started to retreat. He might be a 'hero', but just barely. This was out of his paygrade.

[beholding_archivist]

The Archivist watches the hero quietly for some time, then directs his gaze up at the eye above and back down again. When he speaks again, it's almost softly.

"I̡ ͢a̷g̢r̕ée͏.̶"

But he doesn't specify with what exactly. He merely keeps his eyes on Richie, anticipating him to turn around and flee - As would probably be wise.

[mrsklover]

Richie takes another step back, skin breaking out in goosebumps as he hears that eerie voice. He swallows hard and is about to run when he turns and sees the flattened car. The flattened car that could have been Eddie's. Could have been anyone's, really. But the idea that it could have been Eddie's reminds him that he has a power and it's his duty to use it to defend others.

What good is a lifetime in silence if not for moments like this? So he balls his hands into fists and steels himself up before walking forward with more confidence in his face than he actually feels.

"Hey! Floating Nightmare Creep! Yeah, you! How about we have a chat, huh? A nice, long chat..."

The Eye - OTA CW: mention of child death

[no_applause]

This definitely isn't good. Padme notices the giant eye opening in the sky right away. How could she not? She suits up immediately, donning her armor and helmet and flying to the area around the tower where things seem to be happening.

She spots the larger creatures first. Ever watching... and incredibly creepy. A few carefully aimed lightning strikes take out the ones in her way so she can fly closer. When she comes upon the larger eyes, she makes a face. "Out of my way, foul things!" One goes down, but the other looks deep into her soul. Before she can attack, it beams horrible images to her. Two tiny figures covered in sheets. The sense off loss, a mother's grief. It strikes at her heart with more impact than a physical blow. She cries out, losing control and plummeting from the sky.

If she hits the ground, she'll soon be surrounded by Servitors, seeking to prey on her fear.

Wildcard cw mucus

[beepbeepmotherfucker]

Eddie had made a mistake. Okay, several mistakes, but this was a big bad one. He thought he was doing the right thing, but it went sideways in a big way and he needs help. Help he's not sure he'll get, but he has to try.

He parks his latest rental car (soon to be destroyed car #6) outside the tower and heads inside. The hood of his black sweatshirt is pulled up over his head, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans as he steps in and looks around. Sniffing, he walks over to the reception desk. "I gotta see the head of this place." When the man at the desk seems reluctant to point the way, Eddie snorts and spits on his computer monitor. It sizzles and smokes as a hole burns straight through it. "Did I stutter?"

When he eventually makes it to wherever Jonathan is, he knocks before entering. Stepping inside, he looks around for the man he hopes can help him. "Um... hello?"

[beholding_archivist]

Things had, to put it politely, calmed down by the time Eddie appears in Jon's office, who has been nursing a headache and a few bruises after most of the effects of his little... Misadventure have reverted themselves.

He hasn't been bothering to do much actual work and looks up from where he has most likely been resting in a quite comfortable chair with several of his winged cats littered on and around him. Jon frowns at the man entering his office. "Right. I- Expected your arrival."

And that isn't even a lie. Somehow he just knew this man would show up...

"You want my help."

[beepbeepmotherfucker]

Well... that's unexpected. Eddie had psyched himself up to talk a big talk and insist on this guy helping him. But... how? Ugh, the guy has to have some sort of ability to see the future or something like that.

He visibly deflates a little, sighing. "Yes. Yeah, I do. How... I was expected?"