EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

[inthenightmods]

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

Comments

10/13

[shadowsran]

Maybe she's scraping by on luck; it's all been quiet thus far. The occasional not-there gust of wind or creak, but nothing jarring. She's suddenly aching in unnervingly familiar ways, but this could hopefully be resolved with a walk.

Soldat is a hard figure to miss, even without the accompanying lantern glow. The stillness is...disquieting. Winding around and coming to a stop just barely within arm's length, she then tentatively waves a hand between them, nearing eye level.

"You okay?" He doesn't seem injured. Bothered, perhaps. An effort is made to sound gentle. "It's gonna rain soon, where we you headed?"

okay you get the hard one. pls be patient with him, Misty

[worthallthis]

The Soldier doesn't respond. It actually looks like it doesn't even see her, standing very still, taking shallow breaths.

Everything's gone. It's like there's no light on at home. Somewhere inside, in the very back of its mind, there's still electricity, and maybe a high distant screaming, but most of the Soldier is just gone.

AW

[shadowsran]

Gut instinct is, as it always is, to reach out. Logically, it's a terrible idea that she barely restrains herself from. It's all she can do to frown for one long second, and press further. No louder than before, but a little firmer - testing to see if something order-esque might get through.

"Look at me."

[worthallthis]

There's a flicker. A little tiny flicker, maybe, of eye movement. A muscle in the eyelid, perhaps. But not at her, and it fades almost immediately into the utter blankness.

Keep trying. You can do this, Misty. (And, frankly, it wouldn't notice if she did touch it, at this moment.)

[shadowsran]

"Soldat." She hates what is definitely a fake name, but she doesn't have anything else to call him yet - now cannot be the time for nickname assignment. A clap, arms again held between them. One brief, almost wary poke of his flesh shoulder.

"Soldat? Hey. Pneumonia. Come inside?"

[worthallthis]

The poke gets no response. The clap gets a very faint flinch, a deeply instinctive reaction to the sound of a hitting hand.

Getting there... one more try, Misty?

[shadowsran]

Flinch is bad, which nixes more of that. The next shot is a careful little shake of his forearm and a rapidly less confident, "Please-?"

[worthallthis]

It doesn't look at her still, but the sensation of a pull on its arm makes it turn a little towards her, taking a shuffling step. Guidance. That's good. Somewhere in the distant screaming, even though it can't hear her yet, the touch registers as something to respond to.

[shadowsran]

Ah. While still not graduating to fully holding the limb, she continues. Another step, another, trying as best she can to gauge his state of mind, how fast he can move, the odds she'll need to duck a metal arm if she tugs particularly hard.

"We're gonna go home. Mine, anyway, ah...Let you sit this out somewhere warm, yeah? You're okay." This is as much for her benefit as his, really.

[worthallthis]

Once she gets them moving, it seems like moving becomes easier, steps less like they're dragging and more like they're actually intentional. The Soldier's still not focusing on her, or possibly on anything, but it's responding to the little touches, head tilted a little towards her voice.

She can get the Soldier to her house without much trouble, even inside and, if she pushes down a little, onto the couch. By that time it's shivering a little, too, though doesn't seem to notice it.

But there's no violence, so there's that. Just let it sit a minute. You're doin' great, Misty.

[shadowsran]

Violence having been the chief worry, she feels something approaching relaxed now. It won't get past approaching until he's moving and speaking on his own again, but it's better knowing he's somewhere safe. Shivering is good if only for providing a next step.

Two blankets, one covering his lap and legs, the other draped around his shoulders. He'll probably benefit from food, but perhaps that's better saved for when he's already back.

"Still in there?"

[worthallthis]

Maybe five minutes after being tucked into the blankets, there's a slow, steady inhale, and the flesh hand comes up to touch the blanket on its shoulders.

Then it blinks. (Where. What. I'm confused.) The Sergeant doesn't even comment, still somewhere lost in the back of its mind. Everything feels fuzzy, but it's still coming back online slowly but surely.

[shadowsran]

Movement is a sign she'd like to encourage, so she's quick to keep talking.

"Hey! Everyone's starting to get a little weird, I figure it'll pass. You're alright, you're at my house. Keep the blankets on, you're cold. How are you feeling?"

[worthallthis]

Obediently, it shifts just a little, pulling the blanket closer, both hands on it now. It doesn't answer at first, but after a moment of muzzily working on focusing, it seems to actually see her.

(I know her. I know her.)

Weakly but with a kind of incredulous feeling, it says, "Handler Misty." The shivering upgrades to shaking. "I still remember."

[shadowsran]

There's enthusiasm in her nod, edging out relief, and she smiles. "Yes - good, that's great. You're still here, and you're safe, it's alright. Focus on this, don't slip off on me again. Do you need anything?"

[worthallthis]

It shrinks in on itself a little, hugging the blanket tighter, still shaking. (No more Chair. No more chair. Please no more Chair.) "Misty. Misty, I don't want to forget. Don't make me forget again."

[shadowsran]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.

[shadowsran]

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."

[worthallthis]

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."

[shadowsran]

"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.

[worthallthis]

"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.

[shadowsran]

"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."

[worthallthis]

"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."

[shadowsran]

If she had an answer to anything like this dilemma, he'd be talking to a much healthier person. Her smile dives for apologetic, shoulders rising and falling to emphasize the lack of answer oncoming.

"You're allowed not to, you know. It's awful, but there's no great way to handle things messing with your head. Maybe not something anybody should get too used to."