In the Night Moderators (
inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-10-09 03:38 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- aziraphale (xy),
- bruce wayne (marzi),
- bucky barnes (gail),
- crowley (mj),
- daylight vis lornlit (melly),
- elektra natchios (carlee),
- elena gilbert (amy),
- eliot waugh (pytho),
- elizabeth (li),
- ignis scientia (helena),
- jason grace (erica),
- javert (rachel),
- jo harvelle (dee),
- jon snow (rachel),
- kettara bloodthirst (fade),
- kol mikaelson (jade),
- m.k. (shira),
- masaomi kida (wind),
- noctis lucis caelum (anya),
- peter parker (laura),
- prompto argentum (daimon),
- quentin coldwater (ireth),
- riku (dubsey),
- rosinante donquixote (lauren),
- stone (gail),
- vanitas (king),
- xayah (helena)
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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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?"
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"I am not exploded, however; fine may be an overstatement." He looks around, wondering if he'll be seeing something that's not there next. Everything seems the same: ominous hands and shadows at the periphery of his vision. "There must be some way to make these stop."
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Which basically leaves: magic. The Sergeant hates that idea. There's not a damn thing he can do about magic.
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He doesn't like that idea either, it's familiar to him, but the kind of magic that would manipulate their senses like this is powerful and alarming, "A magic to make us see things from our past? What makes us uneasy amplified? If it's specifically tailored to each person, given the population, that is a powerful spell. I know little of sorcery but I would imagine that would take some time."
Unless there's a whole bunch of sorcerers which is a terrifying thought.
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"It may be the spirits, not all of them are friendly - but there are enough that are I would think they may have showed up to warn us. Or at least be around. The Keeper seems more likely."
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"I have talked to a few, they didn't seem like they had any sort of powers. And if they did why strike now? It would have been easier to dispatch us all when there were much fewer of us."
He sighs, everything just brings more questions with no answers, "I'm not sure whats to be done. Especially when we cannot trust what we see."
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He shakes his head. "We're just talkin' in circles. And I'm gettin' antsy standin' still." He peers into the trees. "C'mon. You got magic, right? Maybe if we make a circuit you can find some more. If we stick together, we can tell each other when shit ain't real, right?"
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"A solid plan. Assuming we don't both start seeing the same things." That's uncharacteristically pessimistic of him and he pauses before continuing, "No, this is a better option than being on our own. Besides, should we be attacked we'll be able to defend with the two of us instead of alone."
He eyes that metal arm, "I assume you can fight hand to hand?"
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But he does look like he can take care of himself which is reassuring. "I have some experience in that, yes," says the Grandmaster of an entire assassin clan.
At least they're on even ground as they make their patrol.
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He slips the knife away again, and picks up on the Soldier's usual patrol again. "I do this every day, anyway. Ain't like it's a problem doing it with company."
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Hands that he is repeatedly reminding himself aren't real.
There's silence for a while as he tries to figure out how to ask the next question in a way that isn't... well.. strange, "You sound different than when we last talked."
More talkative for one, but also.. different.
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(We'd probably still wind up doing it even if it does overlap with people. What the fuck else we gonna do with our time.) That, the Soldier has no answer for.
The silence isn't bad, but it's definitely better than the question. The Sergeant actually winces. "Yeah. Uh. I do, don't I. It's kinda complicated..." Are you gonna make him try to explain, Kuai? That's gonna be a weird conversation.
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He notices that, deciding not to push it. It's not any of his business. "You do not need to explain, I was merely curious."
Nothing seems out of place, other than the ever present hands. If that's all this is, it won't be too bad. Maybe it'll just pass after a while. "Were you here when the graves appeared? After a while they vanished with no warning, just as abruptly as they had appeared. Maybe this will be like that and suddenly stop."
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"I missed the graves thing, but I've heard about it. It really just... stopped? How long did it go on for?"
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"They likely have more tact than I do." He may be honorable, but he can be offensively blunt sometimes. "About a week. They appeared overnight, and one day they were no longer there. But everything that had been placed at the graves was at the post office to collect. And addressed to the appropriate recipient. If someone went through and organized everything then left it at the post office it would have taken quite a while, and it seemed to vanish overnight."
His voice lowers and he looks away, "I'm glad they're gone. Those were things we should not have seen."
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"What did you guys leave at the graves?" he asks.
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"Candles. Small crafted objects. Some left food or drink, but we didn't have much to spare." He actually has the first amusing thought he's had in a while, "I wonder if those who were left drink got a soggy package of spilled wine or tea amidst everything else."
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Though at least then maybe more people would understand why it's as messed up as it is, and it wouldn't keep having to explain.
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"It was unsettling, and probably best to be missed. Unfortunately we now have.. this." He gestures around at the hands that he can see, and assumes the other man is seeing some version of it himself.
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