inthenightmods: (Default)
In the Night Moderators ([personal profile] inthenightmods) wrote in [community profile] logsinthenight2019-10-09 03:38 pm

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 | networklogsmemesooc
pages | rulesfaqtakenmod contactplayer contactcalendarsettingexplorationitem requestsfull nav
sauntered_downward: (oh really now)

[personal profile] sauntered_downward 2019-10-11 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
What is it you thought you heard?

[He doesn't really care for tea, but he's going to do what he does when Aziraphale makes him tea. Sip on it a bit and when it's cool enough turn it into wine.]
luxoraculi: (pic#11643353)

[personal profile] luxoraculi 2019-10-11 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
I thought I heard whispering. It sounded like my brother, but he is not here, fortunately.

[ Fortunately for several reasons, honestly. But her head snaps up and back towards the window when she thinks she hears something else Giggling, that doesn't... sound like her brother, thankfully. ]

...I think that, perhaps I am not sleeping enough. I'm going to assume you didn't just hear that, either.
sauntered_downward: (hmmm?)

[personal profile] sauntered_downward 2019-10-11 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
No, still alive, is he?

[That's Crowley, always a bit blunt.

He looks up to the window and then gets to his feet with a bit of a groan. He steps towards the window and looks outside.]


Nothing out there----well, nothing we haven't seen before. More darkness and all that.
luxoraculi: (pic#11051999)

[personal profile] luxoraculi 2019-10-11 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
He should be... I hope so, yes. If he were here, he would be kicking down every single door in his attempts to find me.

[ Which really isn't anything any of them need, honestly. She watches him, following so that she may peer over his shoulder, frowning into the darkness. ]

I don't understand... mm. Perhaps it is a lack of sleep. I've had something on my mind... well. A few things, honestly. Though I doubt anyone has the answers, other than whomever is truly in charge. Ah, but come, sit, Crowley. I don't want you to strain yourself on my behalf.
sauntered_downward: (Default)

[personal profile] sauntered_downward 2019-10-11 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[Crowley isn't convinced. He's seen a lot of weird things happen to humans due to lack of sleep, though, and it's possible that's what's going on here.

No point in arguing with her. His leg does hurt, putting all this pressure on it.

He limps back to the couch.]


So what's on your mind, then? Something about the town? Or back home?
luxoraculi: (pic#11073026)

[personal profile] luxoraculi 2019-10-17 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ Once Crowley is seated again, she sits down next to him and takes a sip of her tea, trying to ignore the odd noises that she swears she can hear even now. She places the cup back down onto the coffee table and folds her hands neatly into her lap. ]

It is a bit of both, honestly...

[ Sighing, her brow furrows and she looks down at her hands. ]

A friend from home was here, but he unfortunately passed away. It wasn't a pretty sigh; broken bones and cuts and scrapes. My two other dear friends buried him, and we all mourned.

[ She looks up then, shoulders dropping a bit. ]

He came back, though. On the Ferry. No broken bones or cuts, and absolutely no memory of being here at all.