genessia | [Log] Mannequins are dicks

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[Log] Mannequins are dicks

Who: Everglade
What: There's some rather rude mannequins breaking and defacing property in Everglade, particularly "public" buildings.
Where: Various parts of Everglade, probably a thread to move to the woods/Wonderland.
When: About midday after the election results.
Warnings: Creepy mannequins.

Evidently there wasn't only one person upset with the way Everglade's elections played out, though it came in the form of about five foot tall blank mannequins that are currently using whatever methods they can to destroy windows, doors, lamp posts, whatever is in their way. While there's a few that have managed to find paint (of a particularly garish pink color) that are writing various seemingly random symbols on the sides of public buildings.

The odd thing about them is that there's no strings attached to them and anything sentient is being particularly ignored, no notice, no violence, no nothing. They seem particularly focused on their targets with sentient beings not being among those targets, odd.

For anyone that wants to try and destroy one of these mannequins, they'll absolutely struggle and try to escape, but with no violent means towards the person attempting. And if destroyed, for those that can see magical things or are particularly attuned to emotions or some such nonsense, they'll see a rather large wisp of black smoke that attempts to skitter away back into the woods. Maybe following it is a good idea?

(Feel free to do whatever with this information, it's mostly Lydia being petty and they are being controlled via a type of necromancy. The smoke does lead to Lydia's Wonderland in the woods, but it may or may not have an obvious door. Also there's a particular thing planned with Grell finding it, so that is part of what will absolutely happen in this case. Otherwise feel free to do whatever, these things are super easy to destroy as they're just wood.)

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[Here she is, trying to gather firewood to include in "blizzard packages" for residents, and she runs into a couple of wooden dolls, painting a few short logs without a care in the world. They're rather big for these types of dolls, and don't seem to notice her standing over them.

She whacks them over their skinny heads with a tree branch, but...it does nothing. Huh. Not even a look back at her. It really just irritates her to the point of yanking one by the arm, flipping it over onto the ground, and crushing it's head under her foot. The other doll takes no notice of its comrade being crushed, though, and continues painting. With a sigh, Grell does the same to the other. As she instructs someone to move the packages inside, a wisp of black smoke catches her attention in her peripheral vision. The wisps seem to come from the fallen dolls. The black smoke dances a bit in the air before it starts to float away without the guidance of the wind. Grell looks back at whomever is behind her, but they don't seem to see this phenomenon happening. The obvious choice is to follow it herself.

Along the way, Grell notices other dolls damaging property, so there are many a detour along her path. Most long, since the dolls put up a resistance if she isn't quick about it. Eventually she just uses her chainsaw on them because why waste her energy? There's far more than she thought, but following the black wisps is her current goal. As long as they aren't harming the residents, things should be okay for now. The smoke leads her to the woods, which just makes her more alert. There could be far more of those dolls in a forest full of wood. With determination, she goes in, chainsaw at her grasp, the engine quiet and ready to use at a moment's notice.]

[Most things and people coming into the woods catches her attention at this point, having set up little things here and there to alert her if something that should prove interesting happens to be coming in her direction. Even more so since she sent those dolls out, having not entertained the idea of someone really following them back out here if that were the case. There's no other dolls to be found in the woods, just little twinkles of what appears to be a magical light here and there, clearly intended to to trip someone up and get them moving in circles.

Though Lydia's frowning to herself as she's already using a long since used staple in her arsenal to project her image into one of the tree tops, only to get a look at who this is. No intention to attack, only observe. And that...

Well, shit, that wasn't the intended purpose.

Quickly she's dissolving that spell, moving to one of the windows of the newly painted black and white building, frowning to herself. You know, she may as well entertain this rare opportunity with a not subtle turning on of bright spotlights that are illuminating the squat building. A singular door the only thing a different color from the black and the white. A bright red instead.]

[Mustang might be concerned about Hughes' well being, but the man himself isn't worried. The only reason he's been taken down so easily in the first place was because Envy had taken on the appearance of his wife. Who knows how to handle himself-for the most part. While he may appear to be unarmed, he's always got a few push knives up his sleeves (and about a thousand pictures of his daughter, but those aren't usually used to protect himself).

Honestly, it's pretty nice being out on patrol with Roy again. Just like the old days.

Hughes looks over where Roy was before, trying to see what he was looking at. It's... a wooden mannequin? Sure looks like one. He lets out a chuckle.]

Aren't you glad you joined Everglade's Police Department and not Genessia's like Riza?

[There's certainly never a dull moment. Still, this was a new one even for him. At least if it's hostile it looks extremely flammable. Hughes is in the right company for this assaignment. Knives aren'tgoing to do damn against these things]

...Should we talk to it?

You can't say they don't keep things interesting here.

[Honestly, he had really thought the weird monster that were terrorizing Genessia City when he first arrived would be the strangest thing but you would ever find here.

How wrong he had been.

He follows Mustang's movements forward, keeping a watchful eye out in case any other should appear;the call had cited multiple disturbances so he's doubting it's just the one. He glances over at Mustang. He'd object, but clearly Mustang isn't going to try to talk to the things, and he honestly has no better ideas, so, worth a shot.

Maybe they'll get lucky (or unlucky, depending) and who's over controlling it will come out and talk to them instead.

He advances a little closer, far enough away that he's not in hitting range but close enough that he doesn't have to shout down the streets. He's ready to draw a weapon if he needs to, but for now he's going for the civil approach.]

Hey, uh, you. I'm going to need you to stop hitting that building.

[Now that he's doing it, Hughes realizes what a dumb plan this was. Can the thing even hear him?]

[Not being easily distracted by the lights, Grell travels further into the woods, and then some lights come on immediately. It gives her the reflex of raising her weapon, ready to strike at anything that may come her way, but only a black and white building seems to greet her.

That red door, though. Could it be any more inviting to her, in particular? Perhaps more mocking than anything. She gauges the distance between herself and the door, which is about twenty feet away from her, before simply just leaping to it. Standing in front of it, a thought crosses her mind. Should she just knock or bust it down? It's a lovely shade, so it would be a shame to destroy it.

So Grell knocks, chainsaw in her other hand.]

[Honestly, she appreciates her not breaking down anything, it's far better than some people she's met in her time. Though that door is quietly opening into what appears to be darkness at first. Until there's a sudden illumination on what appears to simply be a room with a high balcony of sorts overlooking the room properly. The interior a gaudy mix of slowly shifting gold and pink light tiles on the floor with mirrored walls.

And the balcony is probably, oh, thirty or so feet in the air, which makes absolutely no sense in a building as small as this one. Not that there's much time to take that in given the only thing up there is a very odd chair of some sort with Lydia merely perched on it, wearing an oddly tame dress compared to her normal wear.

Not that she isn't grinning down at her, matching nails gently tapping on the railing in front of her.]

Now if this isn't a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure, darling?~

[The inside definitely does not match what is outside. Not that she's surprised, really. Magic has always been intriguing to her. Being only somewhat magical gets kind of boring sometimes.

Grell looks up, leaning her chainsaw on the floor and using it as a cane to lean on. Her grin is full of amusement as her hostess makes herself known.]

Now that is a fabulous dress! [She wonders if there are other colors of it.] But other than that, I just [uses her fingers as little legs that walk on air] followed a bit of smoke from these cute little dolls to this building.

[Annoying, but cute.]

Which is quite different from how it looks outside. Did you redecorate?

[Don't think she hasn't noticed that chainsaw, Grell, not that she seems particularly concerned about it either way. But she's keeping a close eye on her, slowly moving to stand and rest her forearms on the railing to make things a tad bit easier. Just a little.]

One of a kind, but that's what happens when you can make whatever you want. [Her calm demeanor is kept for the time being, feeling quite safe where she is at the moment, though she can't help the grin pulling to her lips, showing far too much teeth to be innocent.]

Dolls? Afraid I have no clue as to what you're talking about, I've been here all day. [As for the second part, she's shrugging and glancing towards a side of the room, lips pursing as she's stopping the lights to instead be a static chessboard of the two colors.]

Oh, I did, I can't say I was terribly fond of the old dilapidated look this building had before. Quite obviously abandoned and falling to ruin, so why not make it look far better than it ever had?

Well, I do hope you start a clothing line, dear. [It makes her want to go shopping.

The answer she gives is still suspicious, but there's no reason to disbelieve her. That smile, though. It's too much like her own. She doesn't like that. Grell shrugs with a pleasant smile.]

Hmmm...then my search continues.

[Grell diverts her attention to the floor, once changing but now static gold and pink tiles. She taps on the floor with her heels lightly to test the quality.] An abandoned building, in the woods, just happened to be inspiring enough for you to revive.

[A wide, sharp grin grows on her face as she looks up to the woman through the corner of her eyes.]

So...odd.

Edited 2018-01-02 23:24 (UTC)

If I had the time, but it's so hard with my workload already. [Three jobs. Wonderland. It happens, really.

The tiles themselves seem sturdy, not flickering or seeming to have even noticed the tapping what-so-ever, which is... probably odd for something like that.

Lydia's slowly tilting her head at that line of questioning, a brow raising in question. To be fair, she wasn't lying about the abandoned house bit, but everything on the inside is a downright lie.]

Feel free to look at the records if you don't believe me, I can't just create something like this, that'd be ridiculous and impractical. [Though she's not sure if she likes that look, nails tapping on the metal railing with a steady rhythm.]

I have claimed that Wonderland is my pet project, a platform for performances and shows. Though I suppose you missed that information, hm?~ Even that lovely radio host spoke of it not all that long ago. Totally legitimate.

Oh, I'm not doubting your legitimacy. Most people wouldn't venture this far to create entertainment.

[She picks up her chainsaw and rests it on her shoulder, with a hand on her hip. The building needs exploring, but perhaps the easiest way to do that is to play nice. The territory isn't hers, so she's at a disadvantage. Somewhat.]

So where is this entertainment, hmm~? With such great lengths to redecorate, it must be good.

[Oh, that's a loaded question. Though she's motioning to a set of white double doors, ornately decorated on the wall in front of her. Which was absolutely not there before, but details.]

I have sections to this building, after all. Just go through those doors and you'll find my humble little theater~ [Nor was there a silver door behind her chair before either, but that's absolutely there now.]

Hurry, hurry, I don't let people normally see it while nothing big is planned~

[With that she's disappearing through her own door, if Grell does keep going along with this ridiculous plan those doors will lead to a simple looking theater that is absolutely bigger than this house actually is. A large stage at the front and center with deep red velvet curtains lining the sides. The chairs seem about normal fair, if not new, though a good chunk of the seats seem... empty. For now.]

[The white door was absolutely not there earlier, yes. It doesn't make her nervous. It makes her intrigued. So she heads towards the door and opens it. The room reminds her of a classic theater, more from her own time than a modern one. So she walks to the center and chooses a seat in the middle. During her walk, her chainsaw disappears into a pocket of space behind her, but there's still her chain whip under her long red coat. And other weapons.

Making herself comfy, Grell wonders what show there will be.]

[It takes a moment before there's lights properly on that stage along with the sound of applause, if she bothers to look around there's those same damn mannequins in the seats around here as if they were some captive audience.

Lydia's pretty much strutting out again though this time in something a little different and merely resting her hands on her hips as she focuses on where she knows Grell's at. That predatory grin is returning before she's deciding to speak to her "audience".]

It was just so fun to remind people that they aren't allowed to get complacent, wasn't it, darlings?~ You all did such a good job of following orders, it's such a shame that some of you had to sacrifice your lives for it.

[She's giggling softly before perching on the edge of the stage, legs crossing at the ankle.]

Let's cut the shit, why are you really here?

[The mannequins are suddenly her peers in the audience, applauding the monologue. Of the praise. At least no one can say she didn't appreciate her things. She doesn't join in, and just watches. Until she's addressed, that is.

Grell crosses her legs at the knees, leaning her head upon a hand while her elbow is supported by the armrest. A smirk plays on her lips before she replies.]

I thought I was clear earlier. Was there something you didn't understand?

[She's shrugging at that question, hands resting at her sides and seeming to be relaxed enough to not indicate being particularly hostile. She has no reason to be when in her own domain, after all.]

You found what you were looking for, so I thought that had cleared up your question and search here. Yet you're still here, that's why I asked. Certainly it wasn't just to find my toys here, not like they're programmed to or able to harm anyone, really. Not my style. [At least not outside of her area, that's something she leaves to do by her own hand, after all.]

Can't say I'm terribly pleased about what happened, I thought this place could use a change and yet people continue to vote for the same old thing, it's such a disappointment.

[Grell shrugs at her disappointment.] There's always next term.

[She looks around at the dolls, getting a better look at their joints and wood grains before turning her attention to Lydia.]

You did say there would be entertainment. However, if an audience of dolls is all you have, then I guess I can leave and come back when there's actually something to enjoy. But not before asking you to please stop damaging public property.

[Being civil to someone who is causing a ruckus to the city is so confining in Grell's opinion. She's much more used to the direct approach, which involves her chainsaw, yet Lydia isn't like most other enemies to the city so far.]

[They're pretty impossibly perfect and absolutely not of any kind of wood that should be available or familiar, honestly.

She's quiet for a moment as she listens to that ask, a small smile playing on her lips as she pushes herself to stand again. Merely just making a chair appear from some of that black smoke before sitting properly in it, legs properly crossed.]

I never claimed I was putting on a show for you, did I? Or are you one of those types that just runs in and tries to take everything down with that pretty little chainsaw of your's? Because you wouldn't be the first and wouldn't be the last, Wonderland in the previous incarnation has seen fighters time and time again after all. You'd think people would learn after a little while and I'm even being so kind as to not work on the same capacity as before. Or take people anyone would miss.

[She's looking at her nails once again with a soft hum, whatever, might as well see where this gets her.]

I'm sure you have an inkling as to why I commented about those nasty little policies about necromancy and suffering, correct?

I'm a guest, so it wold be a bit rude to just destroy something so well built.

[Not anyone who would be missed? She isn't surprised, really, and she doesn't really do anything. Her smile still there, as well as her casual sitting position.]

Humans are on the food chain here, and there aren't any laws banning hunting them. This isn't me giving permission, though.

[Ah, yes, it had been something on her mind since that day.] I am, indeed. Our exchange was actually rather interesting, and a shame we couldn't continue it further. I'm genuinely curious about other means of sustaining oneself. But what about the Necromancy laws do you have a problem with?

Well, it's appreciated, not that the mannequins are terribly difficult to create at this point. [As is probably abundantly obvious with how damn many there are in this theater, taking up almost every seat around here. No small amount.]

Fair enough, fair enough. The definition of "human" always tends to get a little muddy where I'm from. [Whether it means mortal, or legitimately human, after all.

Ah, there was what she was looking for.]

Let me spell it out, then, since it's easier than going into the detailed mechanics. I'm a lich and to keep our sanity and powers strong, we tend to feed off of emotions of others, some can survive off of something like love or whatever, but it varies. Myself, well, we learned a long time ago that... suffering is the best source of energy. And when you get to a point where you need a lot of it, you have to get... creative in generating it. Thus torture, never directly, comes into play.

As for necromancy, darling, I am basically necromantic at this point. This sure as hell isn't what I actually look like, it used to be, but becoming a lich removes certain... parts of you.

[The vast amount of them is a little disturbing, but as long as their not causing her any trouble, they're fine. Cute, maybe.

Grell does perk up at hearing that Lydia is a lich, and hearing about how they function in everyday life.]

You know, my kind is obligated to learn about all manners of supernatural beings, but liches are almost an unknown entity. Not all are the same, so there isn't a default list of attributes to go by. [She crosses her arms, tapping a finger on one of them.] If necromancy is innate and a way for you to survive, then obviously the residency limit can't apply to you. [A small smirk plays upon her lips.] Not as if that has stopped you, anyway. The whole reason the limitation is there is to prevent others from waltzing in from another city, performing it, and then leaving trouble in their wake. Usually most who do use necromancy have been in Everglade for years, or even from birth. [A pause] Or resurrection, I suppose.

[Her gaze falls upon the interior of the theater, whatever she could see of it.] As for this lovely establishment, I actually think it suits Everglade quite nicely.

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[Log] Mannequins are dicks

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