logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: LOSE YOUR SOUL

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: LOSE YOUR SOUL

characters: everyone.
location: bonfire square, around town.
date/time: october 30-31.
content: the spirits stage a play! and then the thefts begin...
warnings: none. just mischief.

you're gonna lose your soul tonight, tonight

It's probably something you're used to by now: waking up to some new, strange thing suddenly appearing somewhere around town. This time it's a ramshackle stage sitting prominently in the center of the square. It's complete with benches and a haggard-looking red curtain, and it's clear by the amount of forest spirits milling and fussing around it that they're the ones responsible. For most of the day, the spirits seem concerned only with attracting as many people as possible, trying to herd them into the seats. But as the moon rises, the performance finally begins.

There's an awkward shuffling behind the curtain before it lifts, revealing a very crude set made of actual branches used as trees. Various pieces of junk have been shined up and stuck to the back wall to serve as the night sky. In the midst of it all stand several spirits holding very small torches taken from the Bonfire. Sticks, really, placed inside empty cans with holes punched in them and rusted wires for handles. These spirits wave their "lanterns" about for the benefit of the audience before miming the act of walking across the stage without actually going anywhere. From somewhere above them, a pair of long arms descends to shake the "trees" on either side; seems the Postmaster General wanted to lend their talents to the cause.

The protagonists of this pantomime talk amongst themselves, in the chirps, hoots, and whistles that make up their language. They motion to one another, pointing at things and conferring before finally nodding and, apparently, continuing on whatever "journey" they're supposed to be on. This goes on for a few minutes before another set of players enter the stage— or at least reveal themselves.

Perhaps a few eagle-eyed viewers have spotted them already, but the second group of spirits pops out of the set itself. One detaches itself from a "tree", one drops from the poorly-painted sky, and two more emerge from where they've been hiding behind the foliage. These spirits are holding prop lanterns, too, though theirs are shielded, giving off very little light. But their most notable feature is that they're wearing animal masks; a deer, a fox, a raccoon, and a rabbit for the tallest one. These aren't the masks that make up their faces, they're extras, seemingly tied on over their own.

As the second group jumps up, the first reacts with emphatic shock, and then a brief scuffle ensues. In the chaos, the animal-masked spirits make off with the others' lanterns, dashing away and off the stage. The original few begin to wail, to writhe, to clutch at their throats, and then, ultimately, to fall very over-dramatically to the floor. Other spirits sneak out to drag them out of view, but that isn't quite the end of the performance.

A spirit dressed in a cloak and garish feathers stomps onto the stage with a wooden beak affixed to its face. In one hand it holds a full-sized torch as it waves its fake wing-arms around and tries to squawk. Suddenly, the masked— double masked? spirits arrive again, grabbing the feathered creature, snatching the torch, and tossing the poor feathered spirit to the ground. Victorious, they hoot loudly, and then rush offstage once more. (Probably to return those torches before Rastus has a fit.)

Finally, the Postmaster General, done with their role as the entire set, unfurls a banner from the eaves. Clearly courtesy of the Librarian, it reads, in smeared black paint: BWAR FIRE SNACTHERS!!! with two X-ed out bonfires on either side.

And... that's it, apparently. The forest spirits all gather back on stage to bow before starting to dismantle the set. But their strange cautionary tale isn't over, oh no. It's time for a more personal demonstration. They've got to send home the message. Literally.

Throughout the night and the following day, things start to go missing. Perhaps even out of their owner's hands. Chase the spirits down for your stuff, hold someone else's things for ransom, or just break down and cry in your room because life is unfair— the choice is yours! Just let this be a reminder to heed what the spirits said: beware the Fire Snatchers.

Whatever those are.

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"I don't want to think ill of them," Cao Pi grumbles over his shoulder, "but this would be an unpleasantly perfect opportunity in which to hamstring us. Taking our means to communicate, our weapons..."

Blame Kuai for putting that in his head. He did search around the Bonfire earlier but only gave the makeshift stage a cursory once-over. Its crumbling nature makes it easier to glance over, but it also means there may be a bunch of extra hiding places for anything smaller than a person. Gotta give those little guys credit for making the most of debris, maybe.

"You don't want to think ill of them? That's generous," he says coolly as he steps up to the stage, then lifts a leaning board that seems to be part of the backdrop but finds only a few crudely-made masks.

They are talking about creatures who've murdered several of their number, who caused a week full of waking nightmares, and who do the Keeper's bidding any time she wants an entire town obliterated, right? Now, sure, some of them are less murderous than others, but even the ones who seem relatively harmless most days may have been in on generating those hallucinations. They don't mean the people of Beacon much kindness, as far as he sees it. He tolerates them because it's smart not to pick fights with the most numerous locals. He doesn't have the ammunition for that.

"Well." Fair press. Cao Pi straightens up from checking under the stage and looks around, but no spirits seem to be immediately nearby. His thoughts are all over the place but he hasn't yet found a reason to tar all of the little buggers with the same brush. He lowers his voice all the same. "Some of them are terrible and likely to be the first to line up to kill us," he acknowledges, "but not all of them. I'm curious to see just how they can be used, if we can find a way to communicate."

And he does mean used. Even the most innocent of spirits could be pushed to help find information, gather supplies and help build stockpiles, tattle on the Keeper, and so on. He's got all the ideas.

"You got an ocarina, right? Did you get a scrap of music on the last ferry?" he asks, while poking through and occasionally tripping over scattered pieces of the backdrop. He picks up something that might be someone's, but he's pretty sure this painted stick was one of the props in the play. Hard to really know - it looks childish and crude, but there is at least one literal child among them who loves to make this sort of artwork. That said, he's pretty sure Mary would have tried to show it off to him by now if it were hers.

"I did," Cao Pi sighs while he checks every fold of the poor warped curtain. "I am not a musician, it meant nothing to me even after it was suggested at the meeting that it can help with communication. I am happy to leave that to those with the talent."

His tone is light, for still being irritated about the theft. If there's anything Zihuan knows is when to do things himself and when to find the right person for the job. That said, he sinks down onto one of the benches with a huff. "I don't think there's anything here. If they are stealing our possessions, they have other designs for it."

"Yeah." No sign of anything useful. And if Mary wants her stick back, he can tell her where to find it, if it's even hers. He sets it down, then topples over, unable to account for the shift in weight. Whoops. He just sits on his folded knees rather than standing immediately, since Cao Pi doesn't look about to run off anywhere in search of his things.

For the sake of keeping their talk private from any spirits listening in from the edges of the light, he snaps his fingers and encloses them both in a sound barrier. If spirits notice their mouths moving without any sound, will they even understand that that's strange?

"I'm no musician either. But I've heard some people are trying to get practice talking to them. It would be interesting if we could sway enough of them to listen to us instead of Robin, but I'm not sure what their interests even are."

He's only seen it once or twice so it still takes Cao Pi by surprise when the silencing bubble goes up, but he knows it means he can be free to speak. He won't admit it but it's such an unmitigated relief to be able to unload just a bit. "Yes, I've heard the same. That neurotic fellow at the meeting, and others. I'll happily encourage them to continue if it gets anywhere, though my trust is a bit. Ahem." He gives Rosinante a real side-eye. Drag queens two thousand years into his future would kill to manage that look. "Low, after the ferry crash."

The culprits got away with it thanks to everyone being swamped by hallucinations, including him. Tomorrow is when they'll find out what sort of lasting repercussions it's had. For now, he can just be shady about how much he'd love to throw Crowley in the lake.

"Heh. I've spoken to all three of them since, the ones who crashed the ferry. They're interesting. Hearts in probably the right place but awful at thinking ahead. Daylight, though, the robot? I hear he's working on speaking to the creatures."

And he might even be pure enough to succeed in charming them, if not convincing them of much. But that emotional connection, if it works, might be just what they need anyway. People are so swayed by gut feelings, even when their minds want to listen to reason. The spirits might be the same.

Cao Pi isn't so impressed, by the downward twist of his lips. He only spoke to Aziraphale briefly but he's been ready to punt Crowley since the meeting. If only he'd been able to guess that all his secretive muttering in the corner wasn't just him being a gossip. "You are far more generous than I," he says simply. "I'm not sure I know the...do you mean the metal person?"

It's neither here nor there, that's for other people and he's sticking to it. As long as he's sitting there, he's going to try to twist his hair up into some kind of temporary self-sustaining topknot. And fail. "Either way, the spirits in this place are unusual. Despite them having a common appearance, they behave differently in every situation. I don't consider any of them wholly harmless, but I also see signs that not all of them are malevolent." He gives up on his hair and swishes a hand through it. "Pranks aside."

Metal person, yes - he nods to confirm, then continues to listen.

"There are so many that I'm not sure how easy it is to keep track of which are responsible for doing harm. The postmaster, for example - seems harmless enough, right? As do the ones who serve drinks at the bar. But if they were emitting some sort of mind-altering spores that plunged us all into madness recently, would any of us be able to tell?"

Likely not. And while he doesn't think those ones are likely to be the ones who want to kill them, either, it would be easy for them to do so if they could. They've gained the trust of most here, and what would be seen as good or evil behavior to a human might simply be within the usual range of non-evil behaviors to a spirit, who might not care much about what humans do or think.

Mind-altering spores? Granted that's as good an explanation as any others, which is to say, Cao Pi hasn't even tried to figure that one out. The how is less important than the why, in his book. What would it benefit anyone here, spirit or otherwise, to drive them crazy with hallucinations and then try to make up for it with a cutesy little play? Aside from forcing another reset, but...

"You have a point," he admits, "but there is still far too little information to go on. I am mindful of our time frame, and the more times I find myself about to say 'we must learn more about this' the more I realize how far behind we are." He pinches the bridge of his nose; one headache on top of another. "And here we are dallying around because the spirits are making off with weapons and tablets. If they don't want their world eaten, why are they getting in the way?"

"Dunno. I tried to ask Robin about them but she said she didn't know much about their motivations either. You know, you would think if someone had really been here for twenty years, she would have tried to learn."

Ultimately, they'll have to get that information from the spirits themselves, making it all the more important they learn to talk to the things. Robin has shown herself repeatedly to be useless for a variety of reasons, whether intentionally or not.

Ugh. Exactly. Useless, possibly deliberately, either way of no help to them when they're trying to stay "alive." Cao Pi grumbles and looks around, in case any other spirits are out there just waiting for their chance to zip in and snatch something else easy to grab. "You would think," he echoes in annoyance. "For all we know, after twenty years she's gone mad. That would mean anything she says or does is simply a whim."

"Sure. She probably has, by some definitions. She might also not really have been up there for so long, but who's around now to question it?"

Frustrating. Anyway, wondering about Robin's knowledge isn't much use if she won't share it. It always comes down to finding things out themselves, or making another go at taking the lighthouse by force.

"Anyway, I guess we have to play along for now. I'm going to see about getting that bridge we found fixed up. You're welcome to lend a hand."

Yeah, Rosinante is right, and he knows it. Cao Pi just sighs again and tries to stretch his legs in those jeans. Ugh. Modern people. "Oh, are you? It's a good idea, but...I'm not much for manual labor. Why not put the upstarts to work? At least one of them is keen on atoning for his mistake."

"Soldat? I think he's busy rebuilding what he broke, and I'm happy to let him keep doing it. I have a few others who said they'd be interested if I went out. Just thought you might like to be one of the first to see what's on the other side."

Might be enticing, who knows. Something about an emperor like Cao Pi doing manual labor is just the sort of irony he lives for. And the guy can fight, so it's not like he doesn't have the strength, he just doesn't want to because it's beneath him, probably. And here he'd thought some of that arrogance might have faded in the months they've been here. Ah, optimism.

Yeah it's really too soon to expect any sort of humility from this one. Cao Pi shakes his head slightly. "I can suffer not being the first. I should like to say that I have more important things to be doing but frankly, I'm not sure where my efforts currently stand after the last couple of weeks. I need to take stock of everything."

It's not a lame excuse, really. He's been thrown off his stride and now the missing sword (and pants) aren't helping him get it back. He manages a sort of nod in Rosinante's direction. "Your proactive efforts are much better use to this place than mine. Do as you must."

Empty words followed by mild flattery. Well, it's to be expected, really, and he doesn't outwardly show any sign of disappointment. Yeah, all right, make your excuses about how you have to do some all-important nothings. It's fine. Who knows, maybe something will even come of it.

"You're better in touch with a lot of people here than I am, I think," he admits. "I keep busy, but mostly work on my own projects. Have you heard anything recently about anything anyone else is working on? Any efforts to deal with the problem at large?" Since making friends with spirits is fine and all until they all get eaten anyway.

It is in fact how he do...although it's not entirely empty. Cao Pi really is uncertain where his efforts stand, and Rosinante's question brings it even more sharply into focus. "I've observed some of the Inspector's training sessions," he replies, "but otherwise, no. If it hasn't been publicly reported then I have no idea of the status of anything. My own efforts are falling woefully short." He makes a sour face. "I had a dreadful feeling that the positive strides made at the meeting would fall flat once it was over, but I didn't want to be a pessimist."

He nods and thinks on it a moment. Yeah, it's a shame. But this really is a group of strangers from across the universe, not a cohesive unit of any sort. The survivors of that first attack by the spirits have a lot of motivation to provide organized safety and protection plans, but also to work together in general. Each month, more people arrive who don't have the experiences of past groups, and each month it gets harder to keep them all facing forward and thinking of their limited future.

"They don't have the training and discipline we do. Some, sure, but not the group as a whole. Not sure how to solve that." Not without a leader to keep them all in line, and not without regular meetings to check on progress, and the general sense he gets is that most people aren't much in favor of either of those things.

His thoughts exactly, though he doesn't share them. No one else needs to know his inner frustrations, he's already been vulnerable enough. Shaking his head, Cao Pi pushes himself to his feet in order to stretch. These pants, man. "We're short on time to sit around and think about it," he grumbles. "Particularly when we keep suffering setbacks and distractions like this. If I were more suspicious I would think they don't want us to succeed."

Despite really wanting to just sit here for a while and grouse at everything with Rosinante, it's not getting him any closer to finding his sword. So, private session appreciated but it doesn't seem to be much help. "Where else could all these bastards be hiding...?"

They are short on time. He and Cao Pi have been here four months, give or take. Robin and Dr. Ingram had suggested they might have two years in total. And so far they've done very little to prepare. That's fine, if they had a plan to get started on the real work soon, but nobody does.

"The spirits probably don't want us to succeed," he suggest, though he's not sure he believes it fully. They might not want much of anything. Robin didn't think they were here in this world when the world had light. They may well be here to keep the darkness intact.

They probably don't want anyone to succeed in finding Cao Pi's pants, either, but he's somehow less sure what to do about that. "We could split up. Meet up in half an hour. See if they're storing them in any of the buildings close by."

Might as well start with an actual plan. "Yes. Check the buildings for any sign of their coming and going." Assuming they leave any, which just makes him privately annoyed with himself for not doing the most basic research into whether spirits leave tracks or have real bodies. "Half an hour, then."

He gestures one way to suggest Rosinante can take that side of town while he trudges off the other way. Working with the Bonfire and the stage as the center, they should have more or less similar territory to cover.

Do they leave signs of coming and going? Rosinante isn't entirely sure. Sometimes he sees little dirty footprints around, but only if it's rained recently. In this case, they might be out of luck unless he chances across an opened door or some tracked sand. Still, it's a good suggestion.

So he sets off, watching for movement if nothing else. The spirits dashing to and fro are just as good a clue, and at one point he sees one dart through the periphery of his vision with what looks like someone's shoes. But he loses track of where it went after, finding it far too difficult to track the little things in the dark.

Still, he sorts through the east side of the town as well as he can. There are still a few empty buildings here that have never been converted into anything maintained, which all seem like good hiding spots, but when he returns, he does so empty-handed.

"No luck, I'm afraid."

Cao Pi saw plenty of the same activity on his end, since he passed closed to the Invincible and there were quite a few thieves making off from there with anything not nailed down. It confirms what's going on but not at all where they're going with it. He returns to the rendezvous with a sigh. "Nor on my end. They're extremely quick and good at disappearing. Just when I thought I had one cornered, it would elude me. Apparently, I'm not fast enough to catch any of them in the act."

But, he did pause a moment to grab a fresh piece of string or cord somewhere and tie up his hair, so there's that.

EVENT LOG: LOSE YOUR SOUL

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