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?

QUICKNAV
comms	\|	network • logs • memes • ooc
pages	\|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ kol's a hunter by nature. if he thinks something fun is in his midsts, he follows it. there's been numerous times where he had chased men and women into the neighbouring woods for a fun game of cat and mouse, honing his senses to try and track them while they try to remain as mute as their pounding hearts could be.

in and out of hallucinations, kol still would've tracked that racing heartbeat. a part of him thinks it's davina—she's the only person he'd ever run after, after all—and since something in the back of his mind keeps niggling on and on about davina not being safe in this realm, it's all he can think of. he tracks that heartbeat that isn't davina's (he knows it, but something in him won't let it go) into the woods.

it's easy to find them. he keeps his footsteps loud, uncaring if he's heard. coming to the tree, he reaches around to grip solid flesh and pulls whoever it is behind the tree out rather roughly to find—

someone he doesn't know.

he frowns. ] What are you doing behind a tree?

[ there's judgement in his voice, but it's far better than his explosive anger. ]

Scooting close enough her knee can companionably nudge his, Misty nods. Immediate, firm. "I won't, and you won't. Nothing's doing anything here, take a deep breath. You're safe. You'll remember." Specifics are lost on her, but it's not difficult to reassure when the problem is voiced aloud. It'll be examined later.

That there is jolt enough to sit her back up properly, at the very least. Not crass, but departure enough to garner a raised brow.

"You been hallucinating old cartoons?"

And a not-quite-afterthought, "Both, we'll keep at both. Start getting you into complex stuff."

The touch doesn't bring a flinch this time, partly because it hardly notices it, rocking back and forth a little on the couch. It looks up, actually fixing on her eyes for once, trying to read truth there. Looking (and feeling) much younger than the thirty-ish years it looks, it says, "Promise. Please promise. No more Chair."

Pathetic. The Asset's not allowed to beg, says a handler voice from somewhere, but it's not from Misty, so it ignores it.

Blink. Awkward look. No panic, though, which is nice, just a kind of distant offended irritation at the Sergeant for being a moron. (In front of a handler, Sergeant! She's not a proper fucking handler, and you know it. Still!)

"No. That's. I'll explain later. You should get inside, first. Get dried off. You've been rained on for hours." Nevermind that so has it. Taking care of Misty is much more important. Besides, it's not like it can get sick or anything.

Oh. So she has. Only now does it register fully, and she winces at the dampness of her clothes as she rises to her half-asleep feet.

"Home, yeah. Nothing like this ever again." As if that's her decision.

"Better not be," the Soldier says with a decent amount of grumpiness, letting her have the metal arm for support while she stands and gets her bearings. If it wasn't equally soaked, it would offer her a jacket or something. Sadly, there's not much it can do but get her back to her house. "Can you walk?"

As she might with something wounded or feral, Misty all but radiates calm. Gentle. Firm but slow-moving. The absence of a threat. His request is met with more nods, and a hopeful, concerned stab at a smile.

"I promise. I swear on my life, no chair, no nothing is happening to you here. I won't let it. You're safe, and nothing you're seeing can hurt you."

Probably a good way to go, since gentle is what it's associated with her, and it fucking needs gentle right now. She might not even now what it's talking about, but her promise works. With a hard exhale, the Soldier's gaze finally drops, shoulders unclenching all at once, head falling into its hands. The shaking starts to even back out again into regular shivers. "Sorry. Sorry, Misty. Memory malfunction. Bad one. Though I was gonna get wiped. Felt it."

"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. Focus on breathing, and relax. You're okay, nothing's doing that to you. Need anything? More blankets, a drink, food, sleep-?" She keeps still, awaiting a task - or a lack thereof. She'll sit with him however long she has to.

"No. I. Just give me a minute. Please." Coming down from an honest to god panic attack on he heels of disassociating itself right out of its own head isn't fun. Not that it's not familiar with experience-- it feels so familiar that it's probably done it at least once a mission in the past, but it's not often it actually gets to express it, let alone get comfort for it. The Soldier is a little overwhelmed, honestly.

Edited (redundancy alert) 2019-10-11 23:34 (UTC)

[For better or for worse, Noctis was the only one seeing Ignis go almost berserk. It isn't on the level when he encountered Ardyn, because somewhere in the back of his mind Ignis knows this isn't, shouldn't, be real.

But the feeling is the same, the aura, the rotten smile Ardyn gives him, just several feet away from where he's standing.

And now Noct's here and he cuts his attention. The hallucination seems to waver for a moment, but it's still there, in the background, Ardyn cackling and his eyes glinting their way, as if taunting them.

Ignis pushes Noct to the side then stands in front of him.]

You don't know that for certain... [What if they write it off to an illusion but in the next moment it kills them? Kills Noct? He's not taking any chances with that.]

Stay back, Noct.

"No. But I knew others who had. There are spirits deep in the forest that look like jellyfish. Touching them causes hallucinations so horrifying we had to hold people down who had been affected, so they wouldn't run off, or hurt themselves or anyone else."

Worse, probably, than this. What he had just seen is the worst he'd personally experienced so far and he still doesn't feel much like running anywhere. He'd been practically immobilized instead and would rather spend the rest of the day trying to force the sight out of his memory - though it's been there for going on twenty years now, so that's probably too much to hope for.

"This is still probably the fault of the spirits somehow. Or Robin," he adds sourly.

Okay, the Soldier is absolutely not touching any spirits that look like jellyfish. This has been bad enough, it's not going to intentionally subject itself to more. It files that safely away for later, just in case it runs into such things.

Theories are a little more productive than nothing, and talking calmly might help Rosinante keep calm, as well. So the Soldier considers, then offers with a little frown, "I'm not sure Robin has the sense of cruelty for this. Unless she is a very good dissembler." It's hard to get a read on a person though text. "I offered myself for punishment and work to make up for my mistakes with the ferry, and she ranted at me to stop making her feel bad for being angry at me. Generally cruel people don't react in that way. It seems more likely to be spirit related, if there are spirits already known that can cause hallucinations."

"But it's there," he says, firmly. "I can see it, we can hide on it before it sinks."

She has to believe him, he can see it. He knows it's there.

He looks back to the town. They could hide on top of the Invincible. It's a place to go, but the ferry, out on the water, seems even safer. At least, for a moment or two.

He lets his wings spread out, long and black, and offers her his hand.

"A few days," he agrees. "I can give you a top-up after if you need it. But no more than that. Not for a while, anyway."

He releases the human soldier person's face and gives his hands a little shake. "Person or not, you're still human. You need your emotions to survive. It's part of who you are."

"If we're lucky, this group malfunction won't last that long. I can handle being afraid. I'm used to it. Just not if I'm seeing the fucking Chair every time I turn around, or people being shoved into it when it's not me in it." That was the worst. "I fell apart on Misty. Thinking I was going to get wiped again."

It checks its weapons, mostly so it doesn't have to look at Crowley again. Because it's not afraid, and Crowley is a friend and so helpful, it admits grimly, "I really don't want to get wiped again. I don't want to forget any of you here."

"I would ask you the same." He's crouched in a defensive position, ready to go on the attack should this prove to be some sort of clone.

But how would he know? Is the only differentiation the fact that the foam creature wasn't wearing shoes? Something that went through the trouble to replicate a person would not leave out such an important detail a second time. The hands behind Rosinante reach out to grab him, to drag him into the wall where there'll be a shadow portal to his death and Kuai actually jerks forward instinctively to try and pull Rosinante back before he realizes that the other man isn't reacting to them.

The hands are clawing at him, but they don't seem to be doing anything. They're not real. Just like all the other things he's seen.

"I think.. I think I am still hallucinating from the forest. Or it has come back." He suddenly looks very unsure, unable to trust his own senses.

"They can't get to you here," Crowley says, firmly. "We're not going to let them get to you here. You're safe with us."

Of course, Crowley doesn't have a lot of his powers and his leg is broken, but he hopes the confidence in his voice will hide how helpless he really is right now.

"And when we get back to Earth, I'm not letting them take you back."

"Of course." And she settles to do precisely that, with absolutely no intention of moving from the spot until he indicates it's necessary. "I'm sorry it's getting to you."

Here, none of them are safe. But right now, that's all right. The Soldier can deal with physical threats... and malfunctions like this, they'll figure it out when they get to them. Like this.

If they get back to Earth... the Soldier isn't holding its breath, but if it does happen, a demon and an angel might be able to hold off HYDRA. At least it's a little less dubious of their potential success. "The magic might help with that. As far as I know, HYDRA doesn't have magic."

[Kuai is agitatedly pacing from the village to the tavern trying to work off the weird nervous energy that's been plaguing him. Something just feels.. off. More off than it had been for the past few weeks. By the fifth time he walks by and Ignis is still cleaning he finally says something. ]

You have been doing that for quite some while. Is it not up to your standards yet?

Well, I came downstairs to find my friend thought the entire cabin was alight in Hellfire, and I was at its epicenter, crumbling away.

Quite dreadful, though not as inappropriate as being held down in bed by these illusions. I hadn't realized they were so... tangible.

[Kuai isn't panicking, but he is on edge. There's hands everywhere, shadowy and wreathed in darkness, his brothers shadow clone replicated hundreds of times and waiting to drag him down into the Netherrealm. Or to drag others. Is that what had happened to Grandmaster Hasashi?

Kuai kept trying to convince himself that he was hallucinating. It must be something to do with when he'd been drugged previously on the expedition with Hanzo, Wade and Rosinante. None of this was real. And with how much time he'd spent in his room trying to believe that he hasn't realized that it's happening to everyone.

He may be trying to force himself to see through the hallucinations but they all feel so real, including Kettara barreling down on him.

In the moment he can't tell the difference, darting to the side and aiming a blast of ice at her feet. This might not be reality. This might not even be Kettara. And if it is he doesn't want to hurt her. Not when this is his own mind playing tricks on him.]

"I am, too." The Soldier stays leaning down on its hands for a long moment. Going over the past few days in its mind, how idiotic it all seemed now, jumping at things it knew wasn't there. Getting trapped in memories that weren't even full malfunctions.

And yet in the middle of it, it couldn't help it.

Where did all that famous discipline go, huh?

The Soldier drops its hands finally, looking back up in Misty's general direction. "I'm not handling this very well, at all. I don't know how to fix that."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 6 of 72

EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

too late

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

2.

no subject

Three

no subject