entrancelogs | FIRE CANDY EVENT POST [OPEN]

Who: You. That's right, YOU. [OPEN]
Where: EVERYWHERE!
When: March 19th, starting at midnight
Rating: To be determined. First offer is PG-13 for drug use.
Summary: CANDY RAVE PARTY IS GO!
The Story:

"At exactly midnight on the 19th, the mansion becomes a club where the party never stops--even if you want it to. Neon and black lights flicker everywhere and loud music makes the walls shake. Outside, Wonderland has become a grungy city of doorless buildings, lit up in neon that makes it impossible to make out any stars in the sky. The only normal fixture of Wonderland that remains are the merchants, though residents will find them changed. Their masks are the faces of animals, their booths are run down, and they'll swindle, scam, and even steal from you if you don't watch out.

But that's not all. What rave would be complete without candy? It's all over the place, littering every surface, in all shapes and colors. The floors are littered with empty wrappers that tempt you: everyone else is doing it, so it can't hurt to have a piece. Right? ♥

And it doesn't! Not at first, anyway. At first, it's quite pleasant, inducing cheerful, playful, laid back moods in anyone who consumes it. It's quite addictive once you've had a taste, but there seems to be plenty to go around."

Then the post says something about changes when the 20th rolls around. But today is not the 20th, so who cares? IT'S PARTY TIME!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Lots of the ones I've met. But I think they function within a different emotional spectrum than trolls do." He shrugs, willing to admit to his own ignorance in that area.

"Do humans like that much noise?"

"You aren't alone in that thought, Karkat," he replied, grimacing once more. Humans...pathetic and inferior. They were useless and destructive.

Pushing aside his anger, he replied to the question posed, "I gather some do. When I was a police officer, my subordinates invited me to a few of their 'get-togethers'; I agreed the first time and regretted doing so shortly after I had arrived. As you can imagine, my hearing suffered from listening to their loud, obnoxious music all night."

"So you disliked your species before the virus thing." At least that's as much as Karkat can surmise. He splashes through a puddle of oily looking water and pauses on the other side to shake the moisture off of his feet, like a cat trying to get its paws dry.

Wesker halted and looked back as the troll shook off the dirty water from his feet. The corner of his mouth raised, and he replied, "Very much so. However, my eyes were only fully opened once I had become infected. I consider them to be quite a useless species."

He decided it best to stay quiet about Uroboros for now and left Karkat with that explanation.

"You'd make a good troll. We're born disliking each other." For the most part.

Satisfied that that stuff isn't on his feet anymore, Karkat continues to walk.

"I shall take that as a compliment," he nodded and began walking beside the troll once more.

The road never seemed to end, the buildings looking more disfigured and the neon becoming brighter as they walked, or at least that's how it seemed to him.

"So, what is it you do in your dimension?" he asked as the music from the mansion was now barely audible.

"Wait to die." Karkat ran a hand through his hair, agitated by this subject, like he always was. "Our planet's gone and the session of the game we had just won got screwed up by a omnipotent jack ass, so we're hiding out on a meteor. And apparently in a little while, half of us are going to go crazy and start killing everyone. So I have that to look forward to when I go back."

Wesker cocked an eyebrow as he listened. What the troll was describing sounded similar to what had happened in remote places on earth. Mainly the part concerning people going 'crazy and killing everyone'. Ah, how beautiful the T-virus had been years ago.

He looked to the troll and commented, "Doesn't sound like you're too pleased with the situation. My...apologies." Wesker wasn't one to apologize to anyone, but he felt different toward the troll than he did the humans. Karkat obviously understood him better than any of the other residents.

Karkat glances at Wesker and then shrugs. "This hive's not so bad even with the events. Gives us longer to live anyway."

Rolling his eyes, he kicks and empty, half-crushed can and sends it clattering against the pavement. "Even if we'd stayed on Alternia and it hadn't been destroyed, there's no guarantee of living into adulthood. So it's not that different from how it might have been, in some ways. It's just fucking annoying to be seconds away from claiming our prize and then lose it."

"I can see why you'd think positively of being here, Karkat." Wesker felt somewhat upset hearing about the troll's life on his planet. Honestly, the feeling made Wesker's stomach churn in discomfort. He shook his head, telling himself to not get involved. He needed to remain focused on his main objectives: finding a way out and creating a new virus.

"I do understand you about losing the prize when you're so close to obtaining it." Anger began to boil within Wesker at the thought of Chris Redfield. The man was always appearing at the most inconvenient times, always attempting to foil Wesker's plans, sometimes succeeding. Without thinking, he thrust his fist into a lowered sign in front of a building they were passing. The bulbs shattered around his fist, the sign falling to the ground.

Surprised, Karkat jumps, sidestepping quickly to get out of arms reach, and pulling his sickle out of his out of his sylladex. It's become an automatic reaction to anything that causes alarm, but he doesn't know Wesker enough to feel embarrassed by it.

Eyeing Wesker for any signs of more violence, Karkat keeps his sickle lowered, but ready. "Great impulse control there."

It reminds Karkat of one of his fellow trolls, but he's not sure if that's amusing or annoying.

Wesker shook off his hand, glass falling to the ground. He looked to the troll and saw that he had brandished a weapon. Wesker turned to Karkat and crossed his arms. "Lets just say that it is not healthy for me to dwell on a...certain thorn in my side."

He felt slight pain in his hand, and proceeded to take his glove off. Shards of glass were embedded in his skin, and he removed them without hesitation. The wounds had already begun to heal, and he was glad to see that he still retained the ability to regenerate at a significantly increased rate.

Replacing his glove, he looked back at the troll, now calm and collected, and asked, "From where did you acquire the sickle? I hadn't noticed you carrying it before."

Karkat watches Wesker's motions, calming down quickly. He eyes the wounds he can see on the man's hand, looking for any trace of blood.

"My sylladex." Having said so, he captchalogues (http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Captchalogue#Captchalogue_Deck) the sickle, apparently making it disappear. "It's a system that's unique to my world I guess. It's a method of storing items, so I can always carry them with me."

"I see you've noticed my hand. Heightened cell regeneration is another side effect of the virus." He flexed his hand, feeling no pain from the incident that had just occurred.

He raised an eyebrow and replied, "That seems to be quite an efficient way to go about storing items. Almost like a physical data storage system."

Karkat nods, almost disappointed at the lack of blood. He has the idea that human blood is red and wants to confirm this without having to ask.

"That's pretty much exactly what it is." Though he doesn't understand the mechanics of it all that well himself. "A lot of the time, they're more trouble than they're worth."

FIRE CANDY EVENT POST [OPEN]

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