logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

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EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sure, she's fine. But will you be, Rosinante, if a spirit tries to take the bag from you while another tries to stab you in the back? The Soldier worries, okay. The Soldier also worries that they will react just as potentially badly to that same situation.

"Okay." At least the tone is flat, rather than obviously dubious. After a pause, they suggest, "You should hide your lantern. We can just use mine. Then you will be harder to hit." Says the guy who usually keeps his lantern as tightly shuttered as possible when outside, or with only one panel open to illuminate just ahead of them. The Soldier will be bait. It's fine. It'll keep Mary (and Rosi) a little safer.

A good enough suggestion, so fine, he'll take that one. He doesn't much like having to keep it on his belt over his hip anyway, it bumps around every time he takes a step, but it's important to have his hands free. He pauses for a second to clip it to a loop in the back where it can sit underneath his coat. Still accessible if he needs it, but completely enshrouded otherwise except for a faint glow that makes it through the fabric. His doesn't have shutters, so it's as good as they're going to get - and he's hesitant to put it in the bag with Mary. Too much work getting it back out.

"Suit yourself," he says, as he takes his pistol in hand again and hopes Soldat's lantern will at least shed enough light for the two of them so he doesn't just trip on everything now.

"I will." Suit themselves, that is. The Soldier compensates for losing Rosinante's lantern by hitching their own further up on their shoulder, and flipping the last of the shutters open. Light spills around them more brightly. It's a pretty efficient lamp, when not closed off at all... for the local definitions of "efficient", anyway. There's only so much that can be done about the oppressive darkness, but a second lantern wouldn't make that much more difference.

The light is plentiful, and it absolutely won't keep Rosinante from tripping on things because that was never going to be about light anyway, but he often feels compelled to make his excuses.

Their conversation and the change in lighting certainly does attract attention, too. The creatures aren't subtle when they want to intimidate and have no use for sneaking in all the illumination. From out in the darkness, and not far, either, a series of shrieks and cackles erupt in a chorus.

"Alerting others to where we are, or calling for help?" he wonders aloud. "It doesn't sound like there's many, they're just making a lot of noise."

It's okay, the increased brightness is more to increase the probability of the Soldier being attacked first, by being clearer bait. "That doesn't sound like their language." Their steps slow to careful and go completely silent, so they can listen more closely, and when they speak their voice is low. "They might just be trying to frighten us rather than clearly communicate."

"Have any of them tried to communicate with us at all since this started?" he asks, surprised it's even a suggestion. He's anticipating an attack at any moment, and glances over his shoulder to see if there are any other lanterns visible from other patrolling groups in the distance.

"We should drop back to cover," he suggests quietly. Tables and bed frames turned outward form some rough defenses, but having the side of The Invincible itself or one of the other nearby buildings at their backs would help them so as to not be attacked from behind.

"There was that message string on the network, but otherwise, not that I can tell. They don't respond to Morse Code either, like some do. And I couldn't find my contact when I looked for them." That worries the Soldier a little.

They adjust their trajectory, aiming for the nearest building, in silent answer to Rosinante's suggestion.

"Your contact?"

It's strange, carrying on a conversation while actively trying to scout for threats. Usually that's the sort of thing best done quietly. But there's no escaping detection here - the lantern lets everything within quite some distance know exactly where they are. He knows this, but it's still difficult to break the habit of seeking total silence and total darkness. They simply cannot hide. And possibly they shouldn't want to try, anyway. If their movements draw spirits away from The Invincible, all the better.

If Rosinante wanted silence, he shouldn't keep asking questions, man. The Soldier answers those, unless there's a very clear reason not to, and yeah, secrecy when being lit up against the darkness really isn't a good enough reason. "I have a contact among the spirits. They like coffee. They told me the green-eyes we're seeing now were behind the hallucinations last month. And that some spirits might try to eat us. And what their word is for us. They have an owl-head, a suit, and very long, clawed fingers. They're kinda cute." Look, their idea of "cute" is admittedly a little skewed.

Even as they talk, they're moving the pair (trio) of them up against the Invincible's wall, drifting to Rosinante's outward side. Mary needs protecting. (And technically, to their mind, so does Rosinante.)

Something about Soldat of all people calling anything cute is really funny, and he can't help but crack a smile even in the tense situation they're in. With his back to the wall, Rosinante scans the darkness for any hint of eyeshine or movement. The fact they haven't been jumped on yet is both a relief and sort of disturbing.

"Owl head, huh. Did it say anything else about the green-eyes?" he asks. It's nice to hear there are people working on talking to the spirits. They're a good source of information, but he's lagged behind on attempting communication amidst the rest of his projects.

"That they're 'nasty' to other spirits, too. That we can't keep them out of our heads, but we should just. Ignore it." Which, given the things even just the two of them saw, the Soldier knows will be hard to do. Gotta start working more on that discipline, which is sad, given how great their discipline is otherwise.

"Easier said than done," he murmurs. It sounds like good advice but in practice it's awfully impractical. Rosinante considers himself excellent at focusing on the job at hand, normally. He's disciplined, and understands the need to keep his mind from running away in the directions it used to so often as a child. He's better than that, he thinks. Thought. This place has taught him a few things about himself and he doesn't like them all.

Other than that one comment, though, he falls silent, listening to the breeze in the trees. The spirits, formerly calling out to each other in the woods, have fallen quiet and he has a feeling that's not a good sign. He keeps his back to the wall behind them, thinking more of Mary's safety than his own.

Yeah, easier said than done. At least this time the Soldier is a little more prepared, knows something of what the green-eyes might throw at them instead of mostly unaware of the worst horrors in its own past, but they don't know how much that's going to help. Mission focus might help some, knowing there is a job to do and people to protect, but the last time that was seriously tested... Captain America managed to make it go off-mission.

And then they died.

Let's see how this goes. The Soldier pulls the gun from their back-holster, just in case.

The silent spirits don't stay that way for long. Their noise returns in the form of a rhythmic pattern of grunts and howls. Like a sort of chant, perhaps. Along with it comes the eventual sound of footsteps, loud and reverberating. But only one pair, which sure doesn't match the number of voices in chorus.

From the woods, small rustlings can be heard, like rabbits in the underbrush. Little somethings darting here and there, chittering and joining in the collective song. And behind it all, that rumbling beat of thudding steps.

What begins to emerge from the trees looks at first very much like a collection of moving rocks and clay, but the closer they get to the light, the more detail can be made out. They are collections of rocks and clay, shaped into vaguely humanoid forms, covered in moss and lichen. They have faces crudely pressed or carved into their heads, two holes for eyes and a flat line of a mouth. Each one is only about two feet tall, but they seem to be armed with clubs and yet more rocks (the inanimate kind this time), and there sure are a lot of them. Even before the big one appears.

With the grinding sound of stone on stone, a massive version of these tiny elementals lurches out of the treeline. This one's closer to Rosinante's height, and it's got more little ones for passengers. The whole lot of them move in step with the juggernaut, still chanting their strange war cry.

Until they're close enough to start hurling rocks, that is. For such small critters, they sure do throw a mean curveball. Being a bit slower, the big one's still too far to do much yet.

The little earthen spirits are at first mildly concerning, and then quickly more and more so as their numbers increase. Still, as loud and as intimidating as they seem to be attempting to be, Rosinante isn't initially all that worried - they look like he could just kick right through a bunch of them, one swing of his foot at a time.

The big one is more of a problem. And the big one probably throws bigger rocks. "Until that one gets here, let's blow through the small ones," Rosinante suggests. Shame he doesn't have a shield for these rocks, as they begin to pelt him, instead having to resort to raising an arm at least to give his face some cover. But he sprints forward, hoping to close the gap so they lose that advantage of range, and sends a solid kick directly toward one, then another. And somewhat morbidly, he's hopeful they just break apart into pieces. Then he'll have some rocks of his own to throw right back.

The only real concerning part, as far as the Soldier, is that they don't look like a knife will do much good against them. A bullet might, and the metal arm most certainly will, but that still removes a solid chunk of their arsenal.

The Soldier tests the possibility by pulling a blade, as well, and before moving away from the wall (Rosi... Rosi why did you leave the relative security of the building), they hurl the knife with deadly accuracy at one of the smaller ones that Rosinante isn't targeting. The gun fires once, at another, at what should be a vulnerable point between two sets of stones.

Whether or not the two weapons do any damn good (here's hoping at least one does), then they follow Rosinante, because that is the only way to really help keep him and Mary safe, and also... because it feels familiar. Follow a tall (skinny) blonde who charges into battle without thinking enough of his own safety. They toss the gun to the now-empty flesh hand and swing the metal arm both to deflect flying debris and to start pounding at rock spirits. Between that, the steel-toed boots, and supersolider strength and speed, he'll be something of a wrecking ball in a blur of motion.

Kicking the little creatures is, predictably, a bit like kicking a rock. It's solid, it doesn't go very far, and it hurts. The earthen monsters stumble back or fall on their rear-ends, but they seem more irritated than hurt, clambering back up to continue their assault.

On a similar note, the Soldier's bullets don't do much to the stone spirits; a chip of rock goes flying, but the whole seems intact. As for the knife, it manages to stick, point first, into the face of one of the monsters with a more clay-like makeup. Perturbed, the spirit stops to tug at the knife's handle, soon joined by a second one that works to help free it.

The thundering of the big one's footsteps continues, as do the shouts of the ones riding on top. The little ones, meanwhile, begin to cluster around Rosinante and the Soldier's legs.

Hm, awkward. He had imagined those creatures would be much easier to kick through - they look like rubble being barely held together, but feel so much more solid than predicted. Initially disappointing, but quickly frightening. He can't fight them at range with bullets, he had guessed that much already, so closing the distance he had thought would be the only reasonable way to fight them. Now he's not so sure.

He does have his grenade in his bag. But since it's buried somewhere under Mary's sleeping self, it would be hard to dig out in time. Still, he can probably retreat by just walking right over the smaller ones, he thinks - they barely make it halfway to his knees.

"Back off," he calls to Soldat. "I have a grenade, we just need to get space between us and them." Before the horde makes it to The Invincible, too. He moves to step over the creatures and back toward that building they'd sheltered beside, but as he does so he figures it's worth trying one more thing, and he swings an arm down as he stoops to try and pick up one of the creatures. If they're the weight he estimates them to be, he can probably lift one with effort, and hurl it back at the rest of them.

Oh, right, the Soldier has a couple of those, too. They've just been mentally off-limits, because they only have three, and nothing has been enough of an emergency to consider using one. This technically isn't, either, but if Rosinante wants to use his, he can absolutely use his.

The Soldier can also grab and hurl, which they use the flesh arm to do, while punching a few more back with the metal arm, which hopefully is doing a little more damage than the knife and bullet did. Kicking with steel-toed boots might not do a lot of good in stopping the little rock-monsters, but it doesn't hurt as much as it could, and should at least give them both some room to roll back and out of the way of whatever explosion is coming next.

There's already another plan forming up in the back of their brain, in case the grenade doesn't do as much as they want it to. But let's try this first. He leaps free at last with maybe more spring than most humans can manage, lands clear, and spins to face whatever Rosinante's grenade might do.

Well, luckily for these two, it seems the little critters don't know what the word "grenade" means. Though even if they did, it's unclear whether or not they'd back off. Several of them rush at Rosinante's legs, wrapping their short-but-solid arms around when he tries to move. Of course, that won't stop him from picking one of them up, and pick them up he can. They do indeed weigh as much as they look like they would, but someone strong enough could definitely heft one.

Tossing it is a bit like tossing a struggling bowling ball. It doesn't go all that far, but when it lands, it definitely leaves a mark. Both the little rock monster Rosi throws and the one it smacks into go tumbling, the impact chipping large chunks from each. And the fallout only repeats itself when the Soldier does the same.

The punching with the metal arm certainly knocks the spirits back, and maybe a little further than the kicking, but it still only chips them, like a chisel and hammer. It scuffs the knuckles of the metal arm, too.

The Soldier isn't getting away so easily, either. The little spirits have clustered around him as well, and try to hug-crush him in place by wrapping around his knees.

Meanwhile, the Big One is close enough that those riding on top of it can throw stones and sharpened sticks. And the larger one can reach down, pry up an old log from the forest floor, and start swinging it around like a club. Better duck fast.

Okay, so the problem with the grenade is quickly going to be getting far enough away to even get it out. He'd hoped to clear the little spirits but they're persistent, and he's clumsy. Even at his most determined there's a risk he'll utterly fail and this is one of those times, as he throws the small spirit and then topples heavily to the ground at the shift in weight and the creatures grappling his legs.

So that's not great. But he fights to at least get up onto his hands and knees quickly, trying to keep Mary out of their reach, then hears the whistle of a rock go flying past his ear. It takes all his strength just to force little hands off his arms and stand back up, and he's quite strong, too. He underestimated these spirits from the beginning.

"Let go," he snarls as he tries to kick the spirits off and keep moving, and this time stoops to grab one by the hands and try to swing it as his own sort of club at its fellow little rock people. There's another whoosh of movement and one of those sharpened sticks plunges javelin-like into his back, though the layers of cold-weather clothing keep it from driving too deep. He'll ignore it for now - not much else he can do, occupied as he is. There will probably be more, too. Someone his size isn't exactly a hard target to hit.

No more punching, when the arm has to go towards defending from more projectiles. Looks like they're out of time. If Rosinante isn't able to use his grenade, the Soldier will have to enact plan B-- somehow; unless they can get clear to run to lure the stone spirits away, that plan won't be of much use, either-- or use one of its own. And if they could get free to lure the spirits away, they could use Rosinante's grenade.

Maybe the spirits are learning what kind of threats the Beaconites have to offer and sending something to counter them, or maybe they're just unlucky to have stumbled on the group most impervious to regular damage. "Fuck," the Soldier growls, and settles on dragging themselves a step to one side and grabbing two spirits off Rosinante, instead, giving him a shove with one elbow. They're not getting away unless one of them stays behind, and only one of them is carrying a sleeping child. "Get Mary clear."

And as soon as the rock spirits are hurled-- at the big one, in an attempt to stall it a few more seconds, maybe even knock it over-- the Soldier does pull out its own grenade from a hook at its hip, and wades towards the big spirit instead, dragging little ones as they go if need be. They keep the metal arm up, not wanting to get stopped be a rock to the head before reaching their goal.

Edited 2019-11-30 08:04 (UTC)

There are indeed more of the little makeshift spears, some slapping uselessly against Rosinante on their sides, while others stab into his clothes. He does manage to knock some of the spirits away using one of their own, and the Soldier helps by dragging two more off of him. If Rosi wants to go, now is the time, before another wave of the annoying things comes to replace them.

The big spirit is staggered by having two smaller ones chucked directly at its... face? The center of it, anyway. It stumbles back a few steps, teeters, but ultimately retains its balance using the log it's been wielding.

Once they realize that the Soldier isn't trying to escape, the confused little spirits don't try to drag him as much, but instead focus on pelting him with rocks, much like their counterparts on top of the juggernaut.]

Goddamnit this is not okay with him, but what choice does he have now? Because as he lunges forward out of reach of the rock spirits and turns to re-assess the situation, what he sees isn't an opening to get all three of them to safety, to maybe find cover, to blow up these living stones without any of them having to take unnecessary risks now that they know how tough these creatures truly are. No, he sees Soldat take a grenade in hand and wade in.

"Soldat, you asshole!" he shouts, more out of frustration than actual anger at the guy. He's stared death in the face to protect others behind him so many times that he understands the action all too well. Pisses him the hell off, though.

Rosinante doesn't waste any more time than that. Grenades are one of his preferred weapons and he's familiar with how many seconds he has to get to cover, and how far he needs to go to get himself and Mary out of the blast radius. He wheels and sprints for the building they were standing against not long ago and rounds the corner, ducking behind the far wall. He can't leave entirely until he knows if the rock spirits are even harmed by explosions, because if they're not, if they keep coming toward all the sleeping Beaconites at The Invincible not too far away, then he still has to work out something else to try. If he were a religious man he might say a prayer for Soldat; instead, he clenches his jaw, wraps his arms around Mary to shelter her from any possible debris, and waits.

(Ain't the first time we've been called that. Shut up shut up Sergeant.) Clearly, trying to escape would just mean more of the rock spirits following them. This distracts them and gives them a target, as evidenced by their reaction to the Soldier now, and lets Rosinante get Mary away. Hopefully it will take enough of them out that they won't come plowing through the walls of the Invincible to get at the injured, the other defenders, and the sleepers. The Soldier's grenades have taken out quinjets before. A bunch of dirt shouldn't stand a chance, right?

Fuck, they hope a bunch of dirt doesn't stand a chance, or they're going to feel really dumb if and when they come back from this.

So the Soldier keeps the projectiles off their face and torso with the metal arm, ignoring ones to their legs. It takes advantage of the spirits loosening their hold to run at the big one. It ducks under the big and unwieldy log, digs the metal hand into whatever bit of earth it can find so it can't be dislodged, presses the grenade against the spirit's center of mass, and hits the instant trigger.

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think it's monster time?

hello monsters are here

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