logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: october 9-17.
content: the hallucinations begin...
warnings: psychological horror. please cw tags appropriately.

it's probably something that shouldn't be said out loud

October 9 feels like a normal day at first, save for the red lighthouse beam cutting through the darkness overhead. You know by now—or you've heard—that the lighthouse is only active during ferry arrivals and events... And there's definitely no ferry docked at the, er. Beach. The town is quiet, the forest spirits behave business-as-usual, Rastus doesn't know what's up. Whatever's going on, you'll have to figure it out for yourself.

And you will, though the hallucinations are subtle at first: objects moving when they shouldn't, people's proportions looking just a bit off, voices in an empty room, and so on. Is it just your mind playing tricks in the darkness? Might be! Will did warn you all about the effects of living without a sun and a proper day/night cycle.

As the days go on, the hallucinations are harder to ignore, no matter how much you may wish to wave them off as flukes. What's wrong with everyone's faces? When did all the howling start? Who do you hold onto when the world drops out from under you? And those hands...

While you might know it can't be real, it certainly feels real. But at least it can't last forever!

...Right?

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[ He sounds so tired. Like he's been scared for so long he's forgotten what it's like to be anything else, wrung out from bracing for the worst too much, too often. Then Quentin tells him he has problems sometimes, like this isn't even anything new, that it's been that way for years and-

Riku thinks he understands a little bit better what lies behind some of his quirks.

There's a lot in his head, there's a lot he's tried to share with others, so he speaks in a rush like he might skip something if he doesn't get it all out, but there's a fear in him, too. So he stops himself, he backtracks, or starts over. Isn't he doing that right now? Saying too much, realizing he's said too much, and trying to retreat? ]

Quentin-

[ Pathetic.

Riku's eyes tighten, resentfully. He doesn't turn to look at the imposing figure he senses lingering on the periphery of his vision, he isn't real. He can't smell his Darkness. He's only an echo of the shadows in his own heart. But still he speaks, low and deep, dripping its dark poison into Riku's ear.

He but returns to his heart's true nature. Leave him to embrace his shadows. ]

I'm not leaving you alone.

[ He opens his hand, non-threateningly. Twice he begins to speak, but the way Riku's eyes keep making these small movements, searching Quentin's expression, the manner in which he carries himself, all suggests he's trying to measure what he says next. ]

You're seeing things. You're probably feeling them and hearing them, too. Shadows of the past.

It doesn't matter if I try telling you they aren't there because it feels real.

[ He places his palm over his own heart, the other hand moving at his side. There's something open about it, imploring. ]

How it all feels is exactly-

[ Riku drops to the floor like he's been struck unexpectedly, his breath puffing at the withered leaves and shriveled grass against his cheek. He doesn't seem hurt, just frustrated, making no effort to pry away the pressure he feels on his back and the curve of his skull. Knowing the hands aren't there doesn't help the fact that they're quite capable of knocking things and people around.

Still you shun his fate? Riku squeezes shut his eyes against the voice in his ear, lips peeling back from his gritted teeth. He's not there. He's not. Foolish boy, you cannot snatch back every heart teetering on the cusp of all-consuming darkness! ]

-ngh! You're not alone! Robin called this an event, which means it will pass. You don't have to deal with this by yourself!

[ The pressure evaporates at once, Riku shoves himself up by a forearm, looking up again through the veil of his fringe. ]

[ He hears none of the sounds he expects - no surprised gasp, no shout of pain or the rustle of undergrowth as someone might attempt to dodge - instead he hears a voice from the side. Somewhere in the trees, but it's both too dark and the voice muffled, thrown in a direction he can't place precisely.

Clever.
Riku has to agree.

What's more is that it's a person's voice, not the strange notes of a spirit. The ground is cold and leeches the heat from his core the longer he's flat on the frosted and needle-matted grass. ]

Of course it is!

[ Throwing himself onto his back, he sits up, fingers fumbling to untangle his ankle from the thin, surprisingly sturdy cable twisted around his boot. His fingers are stiff in the cold, clumsy, but he's determined and desperate, throwing glances towards the general direction of that voice as he works, searching for some sign of identity, location. ]

That's why I'm going after him!

[ Kicking the last of the coiled cord off so that he can stand, Riku grits his teeth against the twinge that shoots up his ankle once it carries his weight. He won't be able to run long like this, if Sora takes off like he did before, he'd lose him for sure. ]

More dangerous if you try to stop me.

[fair enough, Jason has to admit to himself. Though he doesn’t want to, Bruce has something he wants now. It’s not a question of giving it out of some unearned sense of loyalty. But now a question of what he’s willing to trade. Jason’s very familiar with that— there are those you can just take the knowledge from. And those you have to bargain with.

Bruce was always in the latter category, and he knew it was his goal to avoid the former as much as possible.

These were fundamentally personal questions. But ones he knows won’t get Bruce closer to the answer of who he is— and who he is to him. That, Jason won’t give. He doesn’t want to give Bruce that much power.]

A few months— and I disguised the entrance myself.

[a safe question to answer. But he wanted more information— needed the comfort of a mystery over his frayed nerves and emotions.]

( She's going to have to do better than that if she truly wishes to insult him. Javert's been sneered at for any numbers of reasons, but not once has he ever been criticized for being human. It's amusing, in a way, but Javert doesn't crack a smile. )

Better an uncaring human than a sentimental fool.

( As for the last bit, there's a remarkable amount of snark in his voice when he says, )

You must be exceptionally strong, then, if you think yourself capable of that.

"Giving us time to prepare before the real attack commences? I'm not sure, all I have are conjectures and ..." He's about to say more when the other man suddenly reaches out his expression changing to surprise.

Kuai backpedals, unsure what's happening or what he's seeing. As far as he can tell nothing has changed, but what if this time he's not seeing it and someone else is?

"What is it?"

"Why would the spirits do this? It serves no point other than making us on edge." But that's discounting that maybe they think it's fun. Maybe they want to watch them all run around seeing things that aren't there, laughing to themselves.

"I thought Robin had some way to control them, why can't she simply make them stop it now?" Granted he's never directly spoken to her, but she caused the attack at the party, she claimed to try and get them to stop the attack against Winters. She must have some way of communicating with them beyond the musical instruments that people have been using since.

"We're each seeing something different then. Something directly relevant to us." There's a hesitation before he continues. "Have you met my brother? The shadow clone that follows him.. that's what I'm seeing. But dozens of them everywhere."

[ peter manages to be startled, just for a second, at the exclamation of parker; it's punctuated by a slight noise, one that might've been the start of a 'what?' but doesn't get as far as being totally vocalised — after all, his username on the network is his surname, so it's only a logical, natural association. there haven't been many people who've defaulted to calling him that in person though, and it's a little odd to hear it from someone approximately a decade younger than him and have it not preceded by 'mister'.

which more or less means the indistinct noise turns into a— ] —So much for not being memorable. I think I'm flattered.

[ so either they've spoken, or they've encountered each other on the network at some point. the face doesn't ring a bell and historically speaking, peter's better with faces than he is names, so— probably network. from there, there are only a handful of people peter's spoken to but hasn't openly met. peter doesn't entirely want to go through a mental checklist of possibilities for 'difficult young adult' right at this moment in time, which means—

he looks back at bruce when he says he's not sure it matters, when he repeats peter's remark. (it matters, peter thinks.) his expression flickers — doubt, followed by indecision, followed by an expression that might imply it's physically painful for him to skip the cautionary tale. (but bruce! what if, with your lowered inhibitions, you act out against your hallucinations, huh? what then?

—oh wait, you're not peter parker, that might just be a him thing.) ]

We could, but I reserve the right to say I told you so if your worst case scenario turns out to be more middling scenario.

[ truthfully, peter's antsy, which is why he talks: it reminds him, a little, of the time that fear had gripped new york. when the entire city went insane and everyone started attacking each other. there hadn't been anything to fight then, either — nothing physical, just fear itself. a sense of impending dread, and for him, that tight ball of panic in the pit of his stomach and in his chest that said he'd let carlie down, he'd let mj down — and they hadn't even been dating then! — and he'd let may down.

he hadn't slept then either. he'd almost died (did die, technically, he guesses), but he'd been able to help, at least a little.

here? what can he do?

wryly, then: ] —And I haven't, by the way. My friend [ he voice catches a little as he utters the word ] always did used to tell me I was insufferably sanctimonious in the face of the morning after.

Perhaps we're all seeing things that aren't there.

[He glances to the trees, trying to focus on the shadows that seem to form into a human shape but dissipate before it completes. Glancing back at her he manages a smile.]

No, you did not hurt me. But it was a valiant attempt. You are quite the warrior.

[He hadn't anticipated axes and spectral wolves, she has more powers than he'd expected. ]

There's no fire here.

[He means Beacon in general, but his voice is wistful, the disappearance of Grandmaster Hasashi still a fresh wound.]

[Riku keeps talking but somewhere between the second and the fifth word, Quentin's concentration breaks and he looks away, towards the river and the gently rushing water. Someone built a bridge over it once.

And when he turns back, it doesn't look like Riku anymore, the hair honey-colored and the wire-framed glasses perched delicately on a slender nose, piercing blue eyes. Alice.

The words sound nothing like Alice's crisp vowels and cut-off sentences, however and he tries, tries to pay attention, just this fucking once, to the tone of voice and words, that it only feels real like that's some kind of revelation. Like Quentin hasn't done this before, had a break with reality and suffered for it, like he wasn't exactly the kind of asshole who'd kill himself in front of his girlfriend, and then be pathetically grateful that it's Eliot here with him and not her. And after that, after being just that much of a shit, he'd go around seeing Alice everywhere, like he shouldn't be getting down on his knees to thank the gods he never believed in that Eliot was willing to try, but instead he's just picturing Alice, powerful and brilliant, like he misses her.

This train of thought could go on for a long time, and had, previously. By the bonfire and yesterday, when he took the same stroll to the forest and the river, but this time, oh this time, Riku falls down and that snaps Quentin out of it, out of his own self-recriminations and in to the now.

He rushes over, falling down on his knees in the dead leaves and the wet grass to reach out to him, to help him get up or maybe make sure he's okay, whatever that means these days, when Riku looks up, eyes serious and burning behind the silver fringe of his hair and Quentin ends up with one hand outstretched.]

An event? What? I don't-- understand? What? Riku, what are you talking about?

A trick....

[ And one that fooled her so completely she could have killed an ally, one of the few humans in this place that she actually respects. Kettara exhales sharply and throws her arm out, closing her eyes.

The axe she threw returns to her hand in a gust of cool wind.

At least the elements have not abandoned her entirely. ]

I was raised as a warrior before the elements called to me.

[ She opens her eyes. ]

There is no fire. But I saw them burning. Are you....did you see something, Grandmaster?

Stronger than you, [ she retorts. The anger doesn't mask the petulance as much as she'd like, and probably shows her age. ] At least I protect my own.

Do not presume, child. I am doing my part to protect the people here.

( He's got the scars to prove it, too, but that's not something he necessarily feels he needs to brag about. Keeping the town safe is his duty, and he doesn't need any recognition for it, least of all from someone he barely knows. He continues on, still frowning. )

At the very least, I can say that I do not coddle others the way that you do. You cannot always be there to protect your friends, no matter how much you wish it so.

More than you can imagine.

( Or perhaps he can, given what Javert's just walked in on. There's a part of him that almost wants to ask about what Kol has been hallucinating, but there's another, stronger part of him that doesn't. He doesn't want to give the man the impression that he cares — heaven forbid! — he's just curious about the demons that have been haunting him. He's curious about him. )

I've tried sparring and working myself to the brink of exhaustion, but none of it seems to work.

I am not a child!

[ Not my the standards of her people, at least. Humans do things differently, which is stupid, like most of the things they do. Kettara jerks her chin at him, showing off her tusks. They might be small and she might be small, for an orc, but she has tusks when he has none and that has to count for something. ]

Nor did I ask your opinion. Who has named you protector, when you will not fight for your own people?

[ ambrose reaches out and grizz all but falls into his space, sinking into the spot next to him. ]

There's nothing behind me, is there? [ he still feels hands pulling at him ]

I feel... love, and happiness.

[ And good things, naturally. ]

Perhaps not in age, but you certainly act as if you were one.

( Javert's idea of youth is a bit skewed, though, obviously, given his age and the fact that he's always set higher expectations for himself. Since he was a boy, he had to act older than he was. He didn't have a childhood, he doesn't know what it's like. )

I was a police officer before this. It was my duty.

( His title may not mean anything to her. It may not mean anything here, but it's all he's got left so he's clinging to it. )

Yes, I know. I was hoping it meant whatever magic they have over this place is waning, but..

[ He snaps his fingers and the light he's able to conjure is very pale and not bright. ]

Unfortunate.

( does ambrose have to reach behind grizz and put a hand on his back to check? no, he doesn't but he does it anyway because he wants to hope that touch is a bit grounding. it's helped for him. )

No. No, you're fine. It's just you and me.

( even if it doesn't feel like that all. )

You and me here right now. Nothing behind you, nothing in front of me.

Twice. [It feels like the roots are pulling again, trying to distract him from the conversation. There are now several more hands making their way towards Jay and Jason's feet. He closes his eyes and starts talking more.] Well, I think the second time technically was possession? I'm not sure if that counts as mind control, but it had the same effect. Always trying to get me to kill my friends.

[Thankfully it had been broken before anyone could be irrevocably hurt. Gaea's voice starts to rise, a shriek of frustration and not even words. Jason winces at the sound and opens his eyes again, he shoves his fingers into the dirt, dispelling unseen sparks. Jay has more bark on his face now, his fingers much like the branches that were grasping and tugging him into the ground.

He had to tell himself again that it wasn't real. That none of this was actually happening. He switches topics, thinking of the person who tended to break him out of these spells back home.]

Piper was a vegetarian. She'd be the last person to force that view on others...well not intentionally.

[He had avoided eating meat when he was dating her, simply because she preferred it if he didn't. Of course, that had been prior to their breaking up.]

( ambrose watches the light appear but it's so muted that any hope he might have had diminishes. he blows out a breath and closes his eyes, trying to shove away the hallucinations and visions. )

And I suppose there's nothing we really can do since we don't know...who is exactly behind it.

( he wants to suspect those that had always been here, the natives of beacon but was that really fair? )

I suppose we are just trapped until whatever this is dies out.

[ Kettara puffs up, fighting the urge to grab a weapon and demand that he stand and fight her for the insult. It wouldn't gain her anything worth keeping, except perhaps an enemy.

She glares at him. ]

What is a police officer?

[ Her tone is icy, but it's better to ask questions than be caught in an argument. ]

[ Pulling her hand back at that flinch, she stays close but doesn't quite touch him again. The hallucinations... she knows all too well how they can twist you up inside, turning reality into a nightmare. She can't judge him for his reactions; in fact, she's glad he hadn't responded more strongly. ]

No, it isn't real. [ She looks around them, taking a deep breath, then leans in just a little closer. ]

Come inside, Jon. You shouldn't be alone out here with all of this going on.

[Even if she was a hallucination or something else, he didn't think he had it in him to hurt her. She could attack him and he'd hold back. Tenderness was difficult to ignore and after all he lost, he wasn't eager to lose her as well.

He needed this...and her.]

Inside? [He looked down at the tent he had shared with Arya, the two of them facing the darkness together. He wasn't sure how he felt about leaving it all behind. Was it accepting that Arya wasn't coming back?] I don't have a room.

[ If he turned out to be a hallucination... Well, she'd be fine with it, honestly. Because as afraid as she is of caring for someone else and then inevitably losing them, she's quickly realizing that she can't face all of this alone. Try as she might, she isn't that strong. She needs him, far more than she's willing to admit to herself right now. ]

You can share mine. The bed's big enough for two, or there's the couch if you'd rather. Either way, it's warm and you won't be alone.

[ Neither of them will be. She holds out her hand for him to take, letting the choice be his. ]

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EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

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