EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
ENTER MR. SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

characters: those who signed up as defenders for the event
location: all around Beacon
date/time: november 16-29
content: the defenders attempt to drive off a spirit invasion
warnings: lots of horror! body horror, psychological horror, gore, violence, etc.. please cw all threads where appropriate! mods will do the same

in your closet, in your head.

It all happens in a matter of moments. Your friends, your companions, and even some people you aren't all that fond of; everyone who took so much as a bite of the spirits' feast suddenly collapses into a comatose heap. Which is bad enough already, but the worst, by far, is yet to come.

Before anyone can really figure out what's happened to the sleepers, the woods surrounding the town come alive with sound. Rustling, screeching, clicking, howling, and under it all, the characteristic hoots and whistles of the forest spirit tongue. But these aren't the friendly creatures that set up the banquet in the first place, and they aren't the familiar faces (or masks) from around Beacon. As they begin to emerge, bursting forth from the trees, these spirits reveal themselves as a horrifying army of terrors. And sprinkled among them, distinguishable by the emerald glint in their sockets, are the infamous "green eyes", the dangerous spirits that appeared once before.

Attempting to talk to these spirits is a moot point, made obvious by their immediate assault on anyone they get close to. They attack with claws and teeth, with limbs far stronger than they have any right to be, and the green eyes, as they are wont to do, will try to get into your head. Somehow, they seem to know what it is that scares you most, and they don't seem too hesitant to use it. It's not clear what they want— are they here to eradicate you? To frighten you? To send a message?

Whatever the case, one thing is very clear: you and everyone else, sleeping or waking, are in serious danger. Are you ready to defend Beacon?

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Comments

[paletteswap]

[That's one of the first things that Quentin has said that Kuai completely agrees with. If they had any battle tactics they'd cease the assault and wait for them to all pass out as exhaustion caught up with them. ]

We are fortunate they do not seem to be competent strategists.

[His eyes keep darting to Eliot, slumbering away as they drag him along.]

At least those who are asleep seem to be stable, and not starving while in a coma.

[It would have been a nightmare if they had to try and feed a bunch of unconscious people to keep them hydrated and fed. He's about to say something else when there's a rustling off to the left. Immediately he manifests an ice axe in his hand, peering into the forest for the green eyes that he expects. Nothing yet, but it's only a matter of time.]

[moderatelymaladjusted]

[Quentin snorts softly and whispers back,]

You mean, we're lucky they're idiots? Well, yeah.

[Like the handful of them could have stood even a fighting chance if these things could think. Or, if they could think past must maim these things. They were outnumbered to a ridiculous degree. They didn't have maps, not accurate ones, and they were practically blind as soon as they stepped outside.

Yeah, lucky. Real lucky.]

Come on, this way. The bridge closest? Overrun. But we can double back and take the other one.

[It makes the time on the road a little longer, a little more dangerous in a non-specific way, but it really beats walking in to a pile of spirits, all just salivating at the thought of them. Or, so Quentin imagines. He's not even sure if the forest spirits can salivate. Maybe they're more like flies.

Ew.]

You don't know that. They could start dying from starvation tomorrow.

[policier]

( He hammers the last board to the window, listening and falling into a deep contemplation. It's difficult for him not to think of Valjean, and the insufferable amount of kindness that he's shown to others. It's incomprehensible for such a man to exist, and yet he does. Not just the once, but twice. After several moments, he answers, )

He seems like a good man.

( Javert, himself, could never be that good. He has already long accepted that. The next question he asks is not made with any ulterior motive, but only out of genuine curiosity, )

Is he a friend?

[policier]

( He doesn't make any noise as the needle goes through, though he does clench his jaw, and grind his teeth. Once the procedure is through, it takes him some effort for him to regain himself. He breathes heavily through his nose, his chest heaving. )

I did much the same. Doctors were an unnecessary expense.

( He looks down at the Soldier's handiwork and, seemingly satisfied with it, he grunts, )

I can finish the rest myself.

[worthallthis]

[Given the placement of the wounds and the loss of blood, the Soldier is skeptical of that. It's awkward wrapping your own arm, since you only have one hand (and your teeth, if you're careful) to get it done with. They step back, though.]

I'll get you the sheet-bandages, at least.

[policier]

Fine.

( He's stubborn, and far too used to doing things on his own. The last time he was injured, and in need of help, he had to be all but bullied into accepting it. He rises from his seat and places his hand on his arm, holding it to his side gently. )

I will be in room 201.

( If he's going to clean his arm, he may as well do it in his own bathroom, and change into a fresh shirt. )

[worthallthis]

Yes, sir.

[The Soldier politely waits until Javert has had time to change his shirt and get his arm clean (possibly by standing just down the hall and listening to him in his room) before arriving at the door with bandages, metal clips to hold the bandages shut (they began life as paperclips), and a bowl of warm stew from the Invincible kitchen downstairs.

They won't even linger if Javert really looks like he'll be grumpy if they do.]

[paletteswap]

I'll take whatever luck we can get. There's a difference between being pragmatic and being pessimistic. The latter will lead people to becoming apathetic and that is the last thing we need.

[Or Kuai is somewhat of an optimist, though in times like this he's having trouble bringing that part of himself out. It all feels pretty hopeless.]

They may starve, but they haven't yet.

[Idly he flips the axe in his hand, waiting for something to charge them.]

We used to have several more medics, that would be helpful right about now.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

[There's not much to say to that, because Kuai Liang is right. It is dangerous to get too pessimistic about things in a place like this, pessimism is the loss of hope and losing hope in the dark? Leads to bad things. It leads to hasty plans and foolish risk-taking.

So, he nods and eyes the path carefully as they walk away from the bonfire and the light, away from most of the town. And he snaps out;]

Who's life are you betting on that being true? I'm not taking that chance.

[With some of the others, maybe. Maybe he could look at the sleeping faces of people he doesn't even know, and in most cases, doesn't even know the names of, and see if their lights are growing dimmer. But not Eliot.]

Here? There used to be more doctors here?

[sauntered_downward]

[Crowley considers lying. After all, he has no real reason to tell this person the truth. But why lie when it comes to Aziraphale? Crowley would claim him as his best friend no matter where they were, no matter what time. Now, he has nothing to lose when he does.]

My best friend.

Even for someone like me, he sees me as someone worth, you know, friendship and all that.

[policier]

( It's a sentimental admission. Had Javert been as cold as he was before, he would have scoffed at it, mocked him. But he does not. He's struck by Crowley's honesty, how easily he's able to admit it, and without even thinking, he says, )

I knew a man quite like that.

( He speaks softly, and evenly. )

We weren't friends, however.

[sauntered_downward]

Enemies?

[Crowley gives a thoughtful nod.]

We started out as enemies, but he was...well, too good to stay that way.

there are not enough apologies in the universe;

[mellowyellow]

[That call saves Masaomi's life.

He hears it just before the creature leaps and immediately jerks to the side. A metallic racket explodes in his ear, monster crashing into reinforced fencing not a foot away. Masaomi resists the urge to look. He wastes no time scrambling to his feet, spraying dirt and pebbles as he kicks off. By the time the creature tears itself away from the dented fencing, it's an all-out race.

And M.K. is standing at the finish line.]

sorry for how stupid late this is;

[mellowyellow]

[Not as eager to hang around and gossip anymore, Masaomi scrambles to snag all the disheveled blankets and bolt for The Invincible, all without tripping over the trailing fabric. He mostly succeeds and is finally able to duck through the fortified entrance. His foot holds the door open for Cao Pi to follow.

And hopefully no one else.]

[policier]

( He doesn't expect the other man to follow him in, though he leaves the door propped open for him all the same. Rosalind isn't here, and so Javert has no qualms about letting the Soldier linger outside of his apartment, listening to his every move. He returns to the door in a clean shirt, the blood and dirt scrubbed from his skin, and he looks humbled when the other man hands him the bandages and stew. )

What will you do now? ( He wonders, taking them both. )

[worthallthis]

[Easy question to answer, really. The same thing they do every day, Javert.]

Eat. Add to the kitchen stew and make a few sandwiches for people who haven't eaten. Check on Crowley. Then make another patrol.

[Since this one got interrupted by the rescue. Really, while the Soldier is feeling very useful and helpful and strangely settled in this current hellscape, it's also pretty repetitive. That's even part of why they're so comfortable. Having a limited set of tasks that can be done over and over without lessening their efficacy is pretty much exactly how the Soldier functions best.]

[policier]

Does the extent of such kindness not bother you?

( It's something that bothers Javert. Kindness such as that is disorganizing, never mind foolish, when it is extended toward a man known as their enemy. He frowns a bit, and mutters, )

Surely someone would take advantage of it.

<3

[pure_havoc]

[Cao Pi brings up the rear, though as he does it seems like he's the real target, not Masaomi. The spirits start flooding out of the darkness toward his blades, leaving him standing with his back in the doorway, slicing and slashing at them until he can must one more quick shot of ice to blast the bulk of them out of the way. Just enough to allow him a second to fall back through the door and kick it closed behind him.

Good work...team?]

[policier]

( Javert is much the same. Being idle makes him irritable, and he prefers to keep himself on a strict schedule — it's why his patrols are always on-time, and why combat training begins as rigidly as it does. He may take a short respite because of his injury, but he will not remain lax for long. )

I will remain here. ( He responds, after a brief nod. ) Perhaps later I will go out and inspect the inn's fortifications.

( He doesn't like not knowing what others are doing. It's chaotic and disorganizing, but he's doing his best to cope with it. He looks down for a brief moment, then says, )

If you notice anything noteworthy on your patrol, let me know of it.

[worthallthis]

Of course. So you will not tear your stitches until you're a little more healed.

[This is probably not really why Javert is staying here. The Soldier is making a sideways comment as to why he should be staying here. Please don't tear your stitches, Javert.]

I'll report back once I return. Enjoy the stew, sir.

[Since they made it, and all.]

[policier]

( Until he's a little more healed? Javert doesn't have time for that. He frowns a bit at the suggestion, but he doesn't make a comment on it. )

Take care. ( He says instead, and despite the gruffness of his tone, he does truly mean it. )

[paletteswap]

Don't mistake my meaning as not caring. I don't want anyone to die, I'm only saying that as of yet they seem to be stable.

[Since they can't wake them up in any of the ways people have tried he's not sure what they can do other than hope they remain that way.]

Gene. Wade. There was a huge attack a few weeks after we all arrived when some ventured into the woods to hook Robin up to the network. Half the spirits attacked, the other half were somewhat catatonic.

Similar to this actually, but brought on by the foghorn in the lighthouse.

[sauntered_downward]

Nah. He does what he thinks is right. Sometimes it's stupid, sometimes it doesn't make any sense to me but---[he gestures with his hands as if to say 'this is all I have to offer']---that's who he is.

[he considers the other question.] Isn't that what I'm here for?

Stop anyone from taking advantage. Make sure he gets to keep doing good the way he does best. Never make him ever have to question his own soul.

You know, more than is absolutely necessary.

[mellowyellow]

[The heavy slam of that door instantly relaxes Masaomi's tense muscles. He sighs in relief.

Then, flat on his ass and covered in blankets, he puffs out a laugh.]

Guess they got cold feet.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Yeah, everything always seems stable until they die. Again. We don't even know if they could back, if they die like this.

[Or, if they'd come back whole. None of the hasty spells Quentin had dared throw at Eliot back in the cabin, and the few ones he thought of at the Inn had had any effect at all. None of the detection spells worked either, and it was killing him.

What if the sleepers were never waking up? What if the rest of them were going to have to take care of this many people, every day, until the next reset came or the World Eaters ate them all.]

The foghorn made them attack? That's-- that's actually pretty useful information.