In the Night Moderators (
inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-11-16 06:26 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- akira kurusu (al),
- allie pressman (brooke),
- bucky barnes (gail),
- crowley (mj),
- dana scully (carlee),
- ellever brandt (crow),
- jason grace (erica),
- javert (rachel),
- jon snow (rachel),
- lunafreya nox fleuret (liz),
- m.k. (shira),
- masaomi kida (wind),
- nancy wheeler (chrissy),
- prompto argentum (daimon),
- quentin coldwater (ireth),
- steve harrington (zelly),
- vanitas (king),
- zihuan cao pi (gemini)
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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Their boot prints on the floor are a little bloody as they limp towards the kitchen. The bite mark is still healing, and still hurts. "Everything secure here?"
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"It won't last, not forever." He sounds like a broken record, and he knows this. He still says it: "We have to leave the town. We have to figure out a way and get everyone out of here."
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"We can create a pulley system. Something to drag them along the forest floor as we move," he says. "Or get them in bags on our backs."
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He steps past them and holds the door open. "We have to know when to move on, find the next place out of here."
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Unfortunately, there's just no way. "How do you suggest we carry fourteen sleeping people across a pitch-black town while under attack, Crowley." The Soldier makes it to the cupboards and eases down to sit on the floor and rifle through them rather than crouching, then holds out a hand for the pack again. Might as well put the food they collected away while getting out something to eat.
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"Humans have saved more people with less," he says. "Look---we've got all of these tables, yeah? We cut out little wheels, turn them into carts. Carry the people on the carts. Get people to defend the ones carrying the sleeping people as we go through the woods, try to find another place that doesn't have all of these monsters. Or get them to the lake and go out, see if we can float out somewhere else."
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The look Crowley gets from the Soldier as he rambles is soft, not quite the thinking-about-Steve look, but it's kinda close. It's not possible. Not really. But it's a nice thought, and that Crowley is thinking so hard about it is damn sweet.
Maybe the Soldier can consider it as a last resort, if things really start to fall apart. And it would give Crowley something to do, in here, instead of come up with even crazier ideas. So as the Soldier turns back to the cupboards and the food inside, they say, "It will take some preparing. Making the carts. Or making a bigger raft than the little one we have." There's no way to fit fourteen sleeping people on the raft and Rosinante's boat, that they have now. "For now we can hold. But we can prepare for escape once things turn worse."
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He moves back to a standing position. "Come on, you're a soldier. You know this doesn't have an end date until we're dead and they have the people they poisoned. Because that's what they have to want, right? They want to get to them."
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They shift more ingredients from cupboard to counter. Going to make sandwiches for now, and start a stew that will be ready next time they come back. (God we are so fucking hungry. Hurry up with that, wouldja? Calm your ass, I'm working on it.) They then use the counter to heave themselves back to their feet.
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"Sit back down, let me have a look at it," he says.
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(Make it quick, pal. We're starving over here.)
It does make them unaccountably nervous to have someone, even Crowley, looking at a wound. They swallow it down. Crowley isn't a doctor. Doesn't even have any bandages or needles with him. It's fine.
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He holds out a hand, but doesn't touch them.
"I can try to heal it," he offers. "But I'll have to touch you. That all right?"
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The bite wound was worse a couple hours ago when it first happened. It's had all that time to heal already. The Soldier twitches when Crowley moves, but then makes themselves hold still.
(Hey, it's okay, it's like what he did with the arm, right? And we need to be fully functional to keep them safe.)
"Yeah. Okay, that's fine."
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"If they don't want to capture the sleeping people, why put them to sleep? Are they trying to just make us more vulnerable?" he asks.
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"I don't know. It doesn't make tactical sense if their goal is to capture or destroy us. So logically. That may not be their goal." What their goal could be, though, the Soldier doesn't know.
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He glances briefly over his shoulder. "I could pay her a visit."
He turns back to the human soldier person and releases his leg, looking down at the healing he's done. It's not his best, but it's something, at least.
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No dead friends. None. Absolutely not.
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Crowley knows it could actually mean a lot of things. But right now he needs someone to blame.
"You stay here, you can protect everyone. I'll go out, I'll stay on the network. It can't be that long a walk."
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"We can't just wait. Listen, I can't just wait anymore. I have to do something. I have to find some way to stop this."
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"Then start working on the carts. To move people. I'll bring you wood to carve, put together. You saw Aziraphale and me do it, you know how." They give Crowley's wrist a little shake then let him go. "Just don't go out there alone. Please."
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He moves back to his feet and offers a hand to the human soldier person.
He's got to get out there at some point. To find out what's happened to Rosalind. To maybe find out what's happened to the Lighthouse Keeper. To just----to do something. But he won't worry them with the details.
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I apologize, I never got this tag!
oh! no worries :D I figured you just thought it was at a natural end or somethin <3
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