logsinthenight | 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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_{[Physical pain is nothing new in the hard world he comes from. He'd thought months of training with Sunny, months more getting whalloped by Ava, and months of being bled through thin cuts like a stuck pig had taught him a thing or two about pain--but this. The second time around makes burned flesh no less a fresh hell.

If anything, the relief of being pain and scar-free here makes the descent back into that state all the worse, remembering how unbearable those long days and nights had been, every move, every bit of clothing touching his skin an agony. This isn't really happening, you know it's not, it's the spirits, he tries to tell himself.

But his body remembers better than his mind.

He can't answer--can't, because for one, the phantom detonation is deafening, and for another, he couldn't relax his jaw from its pained clench even if he tried. He can only roll from his left side onto his right, taking his weight off the worst of the perceived injury.]}

[ Coraline on the other hand is absolutely floundering here. Look, she barely knows basic first aid, let alone possibly complicated first aid for an imaginary wound. Still, she does what she can to help, helping to shift him to the side that seems to be hurting less. God. What is she supposed to do??? She’s supposed to put lukewarm water for like, regular burns but… for this??? ]

useless [ useless ] useless [ useless ] useless [ useless ] usele--- I’m so sorry.

[ She says, shaking as she does her best to help him alleviate the pressure on the perceived wound. ]

I just… I’m sorry… just… it’s not real. Remember it’s not real.

None of this is real. You destroyed everything like you were meant to. There’s nothing left.

_{[Triage had proved difficult on a battlefield half on fire with body parts scattered to and fro, too, as he remembers, though he hadn't recalled much between when they had pulled him from the bodies and when they had rowed the survivors back across the lake. He'd drifted in and out on a wave of fuzzy shock as he does now, so that what words of hers filter through do so at a great distance.

Yes.

This isn't real. It happened a while ago, it's over and done with, and it hardly matters anymore when the rest of his carcass is rotting on his bones somewhere. Pain is an illusion when you're already dead.

Oh, but it feels real--

Unintentionally, perhaps, given she can't see the devastation the detonation at the main gate had wrought on those about to breach it, her hand brushes the spot shrapnel had sliced cleanly through his armor. He makes an animal noise of pain, writhing with his eyes still closed like a newborn who can't bear to take his first look.]}

Stop! Just--stop.

_{[He chokes. Even his throat feels raw with scorched air.]}

[ She pulls her hand back like it was burnt, wincing in sympathy at his pain. Fuck. ]

What. What do you want me to do? How can I help???

[ She asks, voice pleading and nearly at a shout as she tries to drown out the taunting voices surrounding her like phantoms. She. She needs to be useful, even if it’s just to this one person. She can’t prove them (everyone) right.

Actually no, fuck the voices. Remember Coraline. They aren’t real. ]

EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

so sorry re: lateness, this is great!!

adklsghlskgh your wriiting is always so good im sobbing

are you sobbing because of that or me never tagging on time...

i mean same, I say not realizing i had marked this as read on accident