logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: ENTER MR. SANDMAN (DREAMERS)

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: ENTER MR. SANDMAN (DREAMERS)

characters: all characters that signed up as a dreamer for the event.
location: dreamland feat. beacon of the past.
date/time: november 16-29.
content: the dreamers investigate beacon as it once was.
warnings: psychological/existential horror. further cws will arise depending on the location; mods will cw tags appropriately, and you will too!

say your prayers, little one.

Hello, dreamers. Welcome to Beacon.

Below, each group has a toplevel ready and waiting for the investigation to begin. Feel free to tag in however to establish a tag order, and mod responses will begin once each character has tagged in. If you need a refresher on how the event will work, give the OOC info another read!

As for those of you in the ~~sin bin~~ opt out area...

The Beacon of the past isn't all too different from the Beacon of the present, frankly, except for a few notable exceptions. For one, it's far better lit: daylight leaves everything feels a lot brighter and more sensible than eternal night does. Several advertisements for community theater in the Invincible are hung up (Tryouts for the Ice Man Cometh! Cometh try your luck!) and minor lost and found posters are tacked to a community bulletin board nearby. Oh, and a merry little tune is playing on loop from a record player set up outside the Invincible.

It's cheerful, if not a little off-putting. But the signs of life are clear, even if the forest still looks darkly oppressive over yonder.

Additionally, since investigation threads 1) rely on mod responses, and 2) will likely move on the slow side given the nature of the event/size of the groups, if you would like to have your characters "mingle" in their assigned location, please feel free to write your own toplevels! We ask that you post them as separate toplevels not in response to the mod toplevels (so our inboxes don't get super flooded/we don't accidentally miss stuff). Remember that groups may only interact with each other during the event, but you're welcome to assume timey-wimey shenanigans to excuse why your characters are mingling instead of searching for clues—they do have two weeks in this dream, technically, and dreams are not always linear. If your investigation thread has not yet progressed to a point in which you've got enough of a handle on the setting to write a separate mingle starter, ask the mod you're working with! We'll fill you in on some OOC details so you can mingle accordingly while still allowing for characters to discover those details ICly in the investigation thread.

If you're still jonesing for more threading action during the event, we encourage you to check out the TDM!

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[ He hears the laughter and tries to turn around but isn't fast enough as something catches his wing and-- oh, dear, how had it done that? In a split second, its spectral fingers tear into his celestial personal space and he barely has time to register that a flurry of blood-stained white feathers fall onto the ground.

He manages a thought that those can't be his feathers, that can't be his wing, before the question comes and he realizes he's answering Molly in the form of a very loud and very non-stealthy scream.

He tries to get away at the same time as he commands it with any forcible angelic magic he can currently muster: ]

STOP!

[The thumping was getting louder and he felt that cold numbing chill. It immediately put him on edge, instantaneously summoning Robin Hood. With what was happening, they probably wouldn't take much notice his appearance change, but that wasn't important now. Blood splattered on him from the broken wing, he wiped his face and mask off with his sleeve to see better.

Looks like Molly will see what he's talking about when they aren't trying to help Aziraphale. They're all going to have questions later when they don't have a spirit to deal with. For now, Goro isn't sure what to do about this foe yet, so he'll just try to assist in keeping the hands from ripping the other wing somehow.]

Oh, those hands aren't interested in Aziraphale. Not anymore.

They seem ghostly: no matter how accurately Molly swats and swings at them, they don't seem to be able to be touched. But maybe his fussing works, because they spring away from Aziraphale, fading from view.

. . . and reappearing on Robin Hood, caressing up his chest, to the curve of his jaw . . . and digging in, trying their best to find a hinge. Can they rip off Robin Hood's lower jaw? Will that rip Akechi's jaw right off? Who knows! The key to exploration is boldness, after all, and they are going to do their fucking best to discover if Robin Hood can come apart.

If Molly knew that he was a Ghostslayer Blood Hunter, he would demand a refund, because excuse you, that is unfair.

What's also unfair is the fact that despite being the one that attacked first, the hands are groping for... He turns to look at Akechi and balks a bit, unable to really comprehend what he's seeing there. He'll think about it later. For now, he's seeing red and that's not just because his eyes are always red.

"Oi! Are you ignoring me?" Molly's not suicidal, but he died once for his friends and he can't exactly just stand back and not jump into the front of the line. Even in death, his time ought to be borrowed somehow. It's just the way it is. You protect your own.

Aziraphale is also not going to ask what that is, but it seems to have armor and a cape, and also a very impractical helmet where he's honestly not sure how it's fitting into this tunnel, but he's not about to ask questions. He just assumes it's going to be friendly because it appears to be an enemy of whatever just ripped out his wing.

Taking a stuttered, still-shocked moment, he closes up the gaping wound that was once his wing, being unable to heal it properly but at least he's not losing any more blood. "Don't do that either!" he tries, panicked. Since there is enough noise down here that it really wouldn't matter if they were trying to hide anymore, he snaps his fingers from above, as he commands: "Let there be light!"

[ OoC: I'm not sure if that works in the dream... ]

. . . and reappearing on Robin Hood, caressing up his chest, to the curve of his jaw . . . and digging in, trying their best to find a hinge. Can they rip off Robin Hood's lower jaw? Will that rip Akechi's jaw right off? Who knows! The key to exploration is boldness, after all, and they are going to do their fucking best to discover if Robin Hood can come apart.

[This fucker... At least it's trying to go after Robin Hood and not him directly right away, but it still pisses him off that this spirit is toying with them.]

Kouga!

[If light works in a dream, there will be a bright flash of light for a moment. If not, the light will be almost instantly snuffed out, but all that matters is that his bless attack hits whatever these hands are. Since Robin Hood can't be injured exactly, he's not worried about sustaining damage. If nothing else, it's better than nothing if he can damage their unseen enemy. In a fit of rage, he chucked the miner's helmet that was in his hand yet at the spirit as well (not expecting it to do much).

Between curse and bless skills, he's assuming bless is going to have more of an impact, but it was hard to say what weaknesses were right away.]

Alas, neither of the lights seem to work. There's flares, perhaps, but it does nothing to illuminate the mineshaft.

Those fingers dig in deeper, but it's only a matter of seconds before bless hits them hard. There's a singing sound, and the shaft fills with the scent of burned flesh; within an instant, they disappear.

For the moment.

Better make sure Aziraphale doesn't bleed out, huh, boys?

"Bloody hell. What was that, then?" It's unclear whether or not Molly means the attack that hit the wandering hands or what they were period or maybe he means Robin Hood, but every single implication was directed at Akechi, and he doesn't even give him time to answer, before he's moving. He gives another confused glance at Robin Hood before sheathing his swords and going to Aziraphale. "Easy, easy. What exactly did it do to you?"

Aziraphale would remark on Robin Hood, but he does recognize that it came to rescue him, and honestly everyone around them seems to have ridiculous powers so it's not as if this is the most surprising thing that could've happened, and anyway--

--"Just... ripped out a wing, that's all," he says, looking slightly pale. There's still blood all over his clothes, and he appears a bit weak, but he's working on it. The wound, obviously, is just a little tender. "We'll-- we'll have to leave it and move on, I think. No matter, I. I hadn't been using it, really."

He's trying very hard not to be upset.

It worked... for the time being it looks like. Even if the spirit seemed to leave them be after that right now, Goro wasn't all that convinced that it was gone for good. They could worry about that later after figuring out what happened and if they can do anything about this now present threat.

Glancing over to Molly, it was obvious that all of his questions had to do with his Persona or outfit, but he's not too surprised. Robin Hood wasn't as bright as normal (as he found out when testing him), but they were close enough to see the glow of him. Glancing over to Aziraphale now...

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I didn't want to possibly hurt you with my attack while it was still on you," he asked him. "Long story short, this is Robin Hood, my Persona. It's basically a power from deep inside that helps me achieve my goals. There's a lot to it though, so the full story will have to come another time." Handing his Lumina Saber over to Aziraphale. It normally light up, but considering it was a light sword, at most it just glowed if you were close enough to even see it. "If you want, I don't need to use it," he offered it to him. He might be more comfortable with something at least.

Whenever they glance over: the wing is gone, leaving only a sticky trace of blood on the floor.

As they move forward, for a time, there's nothing. No noises, no lights . . . nothing but the length of the tunnel. Whether they move slowly or quickly, it won't matter: there doesn't seem to be any end to them. And are the walls getting closer? It's hard to tell, but after a while, they'll begin to notice the tunnel is getting narrower and narrower.

It continues that way until their arms are uncomfortably pressed against their sides, until the air seems a little too thin, until there's just a railway line despite the fact no cart could come through here--

And then they face a choice. The tunnel splits: left or right?

"Nonsense. Maybe if we just hold it up, you can sort of... reattach it-" And that's when he notices the wing is gone, and all his hopes of figuring out if clerics can reattach limbs go with it. "Never mind."

And he still doesn't really understand what a Persona is, but he shakes it off and moves forward. He planned to light up his swords, but the tunnel gets narrower and he finds himself getting more and more anxious about it. Hah. This is fine. It's not like being buried alive at all. Is his breathing getting a bit tense? Maybe it's just because the air quality here is shit.

And, of course, the path forks. Of course it does. Molly looks between the two identical paths, knowing that he's in front and will have to be confident in his decision. He doesn't feel confident. He feels like he's on the verge of a panic attack, but if he stands still then everyone's going to bloody know it.

He goes right. "I feel like right is always the way to go." Thank god, he can at least pretend to sound confident.

Aziraphale gladly takes the saber in his free hand, nodding towards Goro and giving him thanks as he tries to move it towards his wound to inspect, but unfortunately there's so much blood and it's so dark that he can't make anything out.

"Well, if it isn't right we'll just come back and go the other way," Aziraphale says. "Nothing else we can do, I suppose."

And then, a beat.

"You don't think we should have gone the other way? The way that-- that thing came from?"

Right is right, or at least so it seems! The instant all three of them slip to the right, the tunnel suddenly grows wider. But it also stops about three feet ahead, despite the fact a moment ago it seemed endless. There's a small cart suddenly there, big and a little rusted, and in it . . .

Copper ore. Mounds of it, green and red, stacked in a haphazard pile. Dust is settled on it, suggesting it's been here for some time, along with a broken lantern, a pickaxe, and one single, darkly stained glove.

How odd.

They don't have long to speculate, though, because guess who's back. It's Molly they go for this time, and it's more than just hands: something wraps tightly around the length of his body, binding his legs, his arms to his side-- and then the sensation of something rooting an groping around his face, over his chin, up and up and then there, and two tendrils slip where they shouldn't, slipping into his eye sockets, severing, pulling--

But then again, how bad is blindness when one's in a dark tunnel, right?

Wider is better. Molly's having a moment that's covering up with the best that bullshit can offer. Being underground, the walls closing in... It's a little too much like a grave. Like waking up to dirt in your face, slowly suffocating as you fight with every bit of strength in you to get out.

...He's honestly pretty consumed by that thought, so much that he barely registers the scene laid out before them. Maybe that's what makes him a target- that he hangs back a bit to collect himself and shoo the errant panic away.

But it doesn't go away- it's just replaced by new panic as he suddenly feels something wrapping around him like the coils of a snake. He struggles, trying to get to his blades, but his arms are pinned and all he can do is kick and flail and try to bite at nothing, only to stop when he feels that.

What no one wanted to see- that Molly's solid red eyes are red from front to back like two bloody orbs attached to clusters of nerves. Molly's lucky in that he doesn't have to see it at all, but he can hear his own anguished painful scream echoing down the chamber.

Aziraphale is busy picking through the items and trying to figure out if someone's passed here before when he feels the creature pass by, and though he raises a sword it's too late.

"Get away from him!" he yells, as he swings wildly at it in an attempt to weaken it or even just chase it off. "You have taken more than your fill, now go!" he exclaims with a thread of panic. No one can see this in the dark, least of all Molly, but Aziraphale pushes down all the fear and dread currently rising in him, favoring a bravery and a stupidity.

Well, so much for taking the wing along, but there's nothing that could be done about that. So for now he's just focusing on his surroundings, as well this tunnel. As the sides get closer, he preemptively put his mask on top of his head to try to help get through. Now they had a choice...

Honestly, he had no idea what side would be better, so he's okay with just following behind and keeping an eye behind them. "The way it came... It might be a way out I suppose...," he chimed in. But the moment they went right, he was thankful to have space again. Not bothering to move his mask back on his face, he was too busy taking in the new area. Inspecting the broken lantern, he couldn't help but wonder if it belonged to a fellow Beacon citizen. He was going to check the rest of the stuff when his concentration was broken with the threat showing itself again.

Shit! Do something! Anything! But what can he do to help? Damn it! In the short span of time he had to think, it had already succeeded. He tensed a bit to the scream, but it wasn't unexpected. At least Aziraphale was trying to use the saber to ward it off like he would have had he had it, but they weren't fast enough.

There wasn't much he could do unfortunately. All he could do was try to help free Molly however way possible. If they can get him free at least, he'll catch him from falling, slinging Molly's arm around his neck.

The bindings spring free the moment Aziraphale swings at them, slipping away to fade into the darkness. Akechi gets Molly's arm slung around his neck, and all seems to be well. Or, hm. Stable, anyway. Perhaps not well. Sorry, Molly.

A wing, a pair of eyes . . . and now those tendrils drop lower. It's all but impossible to see them in the light (or if your eyes are missing, again, sorry, Molly), but sooner or later, Akechi will feel them brushing against his ankles, nudging gently. Prying at his shoes, lifting the hem of his trousers up a little . . .

And then cutting, deep and swift, a slice along one tendon, then another, cutting through his ankles like a hot knife through butter. A wing, a pair of eyes, and not just blood, but an ability: walking is so much harder when you haven't the tendons to do it.

And behind them: a bellow, low and distorted and inhuman and loud. Better figure out what you're doing, boys.

Edited (i wasn't done ) 2019-11-30 02:05 (UTC)

"The fuck-" Molly barks indignantly with a manic sort of laughter bubbling up from his throat, because he can't even process any of this properly right now. He can feel hot, sticky blood on his face like a flood of tears from the dark holes where his eyes used to be, and the whole concept is somehow cosmically disturbing and hilarious. He goes boneless against Akechi, unaware of what's about to happen, so if Akechi is about to fall, Molly's going down on top of him.

Aziraphale hears a sound like a gunshot and the two of them tumble backwards even as he reaches out and tries to stop them from doing so-- kind of hard to do with a sword in your hand and a semi-permeable enemy at bay.

"Away, fiend!" he shouts as he runs over and just throws healing miracles in their general direction, as much power as he has - which is probably stable but in no working condition - and starts to rip off part of his clothes to act as bandages.

"I think I'm going to need you both to get in this cart so I can push it," Aziraphale remarks, trying to hide the panic in his voice and utterly failing.

This whole situation was bizarre to start with, but he'd been warned things get pretty nasty around here. No matter how prepared you are, anything can happen. There was only so much you could do to prep yourself. Normally even considering to help another person didn't cross his mind, but they were all in this together. It did him no good if the others were out of commission. He's certain if Akira heard Goro was actually trying to help someone, he'd be proud, but this was no the time to think about that. Instead, he's so focused on trying to make sure Molly doesn't tumble over that he hasn't even considered being cut down himself.... Literally.

The moment he felt something brushing against his ankles, he was about to shake it off, but now he's more focused on the fact that his ankles were currently being sliced through. Letting out a sudden, loud shriek of pain as he lost his balance; Unable to support the two of them. He was trying to help and instead the both of them were going to crash to the floor. Despite his ankles being out of commission and in pain, he still tried to cushion the fall as he slammed his hand down cushion what little he could. If nothing else, at least Molly wouldn't fall nearly as hard as he would had he not tried. Perhaps all it did was cause more unnecessary injury to his wrist, but instincts were a bitch and he had to act fast. So Molly is still going to tumble down no matter what with him, but now that they're on the ground, he's focused on his new injuries.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, trying not to focus on the pain so much as the situation. There were more important things to worry about here and if they didn't move, there was going to be more problems. With Aziraphale's healing miracles, he feels a little better, but it still stings.

"I'll try. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to move," and he hates that. He hates the idea of being useless. It's hard to stand on his injured tendons, but he's pushing himself to try at least. Using the side of the cart, he tried to pull himself up so he didn't have to rely on his feet too much, but there's only so much he can do like this. After a few failed attempts to stand up enough to be able to climb into the cart, he managed to at least slump against the cart. He's just going to ignore the blood that's seeping into his pant legs and feet.

Anything can happen. There's only so much you can do to prepare yourself. And unfortunately . . . sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter what routes you take, even if you're experienced, even if you know how this goes, even if you're angelic . . . sometimes, you lose.

Akechi and Molly climb in the cart, jostling aside copper scraps. And then the beast turns, filling the mine shaft with its bulk, and they finally see it. All of it. Insect-like in nature, with too many mandibles extending out of a torso that might be human. A face, too, although the eyes have long since been covered by flesh. But the mouth, grinning excitedly, bearing teeth needle-thin and a glee that's positively sadistic. Ghostly hands brush around it, groping at the edges of the doorway, picking at the wood, the track below, as curious as they are destructive.

The Bishop has come.

What happens next is, perhaps, inevitable. They know this. They're soothed by it, their panic and pain hushed, their grief swept away. This was always going to be the end. It's natural. Grasshoppers are eaten by toads, and toads are eaten by snakes, and snakes are eaten by birds, and birds are eaten by humans . . . and here, now, they're going to serve as sustenance. It's not personal. But it is an enormous honor.

It moves to consume them. Slowly, savoring each person before moving on to the last. It doesn't force them to stay alive, but nor does it rush the kill. And they three of them will just watch, waiting patiently, eyes half-closed and knowing deep in their hearts, that this was always meant to be.

Perhaps they're lucky and bleed out. But more likely they watch the Bishop as he eats, hunched over their torn-open stomachs, blood and entrails dripping from his mouth-- and when the pain becomes too much to bear, when their bodies give out, when it's just too much . . .

. . . they wake in the real world.

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EVENT LOG: ENTER MR. SANDMAN (DREAMERS)

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I've been doing 1st this entire time I'm so sorry.

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