logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

Entry tags:

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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What-

[Quentin comes a sudden stop, and the travois strapped to his waist pushes him forward a little and his bow is up, the arrow nocked and the spell for making it fly true is on his lips even before Ambrose stops talking. He hisses back, an agitated whisper-]

Shhhh! Be quiet! There's one coming up behind me- small, too many legs, teeth.

[He pants it out, getting down on one knee to take aim just as the thing careens around the corner. It's eerily quiet as it climbs closer on stilted legs, it's bloody maw hanging grotesquely open and revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.]

Fuck!

( what in the dark lord's name is that? ambrose has seen some scary, gross, disturbing things before but this is...right up there with him. he shuts up quickly, ducking behind quentin, magic swirling around his hands just in case that thing tried to attack. )

Shoot it, man! Shoot it before it...does something to us!

( he doesn't want to become some gross little thing's dinner! )

Does something--?

[He moves his fingers through the small tut, drawing the arrow back just as the thing jumps forward, letting out an inhuman shriek like a thousand nails getting dragged down a thousand chalkboards and Quentin lets the arrow fly.

It soars through the air and slams in to the gaping mouth, the creature falling sideways as it keeps screaming and flailing it's limbs around.]

So- hey? And also, I don't have that many arrows. Do you have,uh, a sword or something? A knife?

I have...

( he trails off and wiggles his fingers. )

Been using magic and running, mostly. I don't tend to carry weapons because what I have is usually sufficient. Guess I should invest in something sharp and pointy.

[The creatures lurches and Quentin shots it again, hands shaking and he wipes a hand over his face.]

I've been trying not to? Because, uh, I don't want to run out? Or, you know, not have enough in case something really big shows up. But yeah? Probably? I mean, if there was ever a time for sharp and pointy things, now would be it?

Well, I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to grab a weapon while we were eating dinner. Everyone kind of just passed out and I reacted.

( with magic. )

You know where I can grab something? I'm pretty good with swords.

Uh, the general store? Maybe? They have steak knives? I got this at the Armory, and I want to go there, but. Shit, it's far.

[Quentin gestures a little helplessly at Eliot, still sound asleep on the travois he made, trying to watch everything at once. The trees, Ambrose, Eliot, the corner over there, which looks a little suspicious.]

Yeah, yeah. I -- found out at the cabin? That he wasn't the only one? Has any of them-- [Hard swallow] are they all still asleep?

Last I checked, yeah. Asleep but not dead.

( so, that was something. )

Where you headed with him?

Sounds like a fairy tale curse, doesn't it? Peacefully sleeping? But none of the counter spells I tried has worked for shit.

[Like it wasn't utterly terrifying all on its own, the sleeping thing. So many sleeping people, defenseless.]

The armory. It has weapons, it's almost impossible to see and there's only one way in? So, I'm taking him there. Where are you going? Or, uh, staying?

I hadn't made any plans so...

( he glances back at eliot and then over at quentin again. )

You want some company?

Oh hell yeah.

[It comes out incredibly enthusiastic, given the situation they're in and the sound of skittering legs scratching against wood that's coming from the woods. But Quentin nods and gets up.]

Yeah. The woods are-- uh, not really that friendly right now? And-- and yeah. I'd like that.

Good, okay.

( strength in numbers and all that. he was glad to have quentin there (and eliot even though he was out cold) because it gave him some kind of backup. )

I can throw up some protective spells when we get closer to the woods or at least play distraction since you've got some precious cargo there.

I've been trying to cast spells to make him lighter to, uh, to move? But I can't hold them on for long, because I might need that magic later. But. I want to move as many as we can to the armory. It's safer there, even if-- despite the fact that it's going to take forever to get there? It still seems like the safest place.

[Any company is good company, because traveling with only a sleeping Eliot for company is-- nerve-wracking. What if Quentin dies? Then Eliot is left unprotected. Of, if he gets injured too hard and can't move? Trying to get water in to him is also a struggle, but if Eliot dies of dehydration while Quentin is too busy lugging him all over Beacon, Quentin couldn't forgive himself.

So, company is very welcome and he gives Ambrose the widest smile he can, which isn't much but it's a start.]

How long can you hold them? The spells?

Long enough. Look, you pull, I'll throw some spells at Eliot and if we need to stop and defend ourselves, I'll take those spells down and we can combine efforts?

( teamwork makes the dream work and all. )

You good with that?

Erh-

[Not really, because Quentin wants spells layered upon spells all over Eliot, to keep him safe. But. This wasn't the worst offer.]

Sure. Yeah, you do that and I'll get him where we need to go. I can do that, yeah.

[And he checks it again, like he didn't do this exact same thing five minutes ago, and Eliot is still strapped securely to the travois with strips of sheet and it's still firmly fastened at Quentin's waist.]

Ready?

He's going to be all right, Quentin. Keep an eye on him but don't forget about yourself.

( eliot wouldn't want quentin going and getting himself hurt either. )

I'm ready.

I've got this.

[Like, dude! An impatient snap to his voice, because this is not his first time in a battle, and also not the first time he's looking out for someone.

There's only room for overthinking and shutting down in a panic in the quiet between battles, when the forest quiets down and the spirits lets them rest for a while. Those are the times when Quentin's brain decides to second-guess every single choices he's ever made, and call him a pathetic loser for it.

But in the heat of battle, with the sour breath of hostile spirits breathing down their necks, Quentin is running on adrenaline and fear, blood pumping and mind crystal clear.

And mouth running.]

Fuck, someone should have thought to ask for night vision goggles. Why haven't anyone thought of that? It's this way? And also - heat vision. That could have been pretty helpful right about now, you know? Or--or camo outfits? Drones strikes. Yeah, attack drones would be good, could have been fucking great.

Drone strikes would be great right now, you're right. I don't know how drones would get into a place like this but I also don't know how ferries get here so why should I think too critically about this?

( this place made it happen and that was that. maybe drones would show up with the next batch of arrivals. )

We'll work on that when this is over. I'll help you. People get stuff all the time so we'll get through this, you and me and Eliot, and then we'll get the stuff for future crap that happens.

We--wait, what?

[So much for that razor sharp focus, because yeah. Yeah, three people could do more than one, and maybe if-]

We could split up the shipments? Or, what we ask for? Maybe they'll give ti to us, if whoever it is, doesn't know that we're working together? Does that make sense? I feel like it makes sense, but. So, we could try that? Just, slip it in there between people asking for cigarettes and flowers.

[He sets off down the path to the armory, the sticks dragging heavily on the uneven ground, but it's still easier than trying to carry him in his arms.]

I wish I'd thought about cigarettes, you know? Before everything went to shit again?

What's the worst thing that could happen? They tell us no? So, we don't lose anything and we don't gain anything. But, it's not like they'd lock us up for asking.

( asking never hurt anyone. )

I'm not much of a smoker but even I could use one right now. Might take the edge off or at least make me relax. I never thought I'd be fighting so much in my supposed afterlife.

I--no? The worst thing that could happen, is that the reset isn't limited to just kill everyone? What if it's-- I mean, so. What if she can choose who gets reset? And that's why Will survived the last one? That is a thing that could happen.

[Or, more spirits could attack. Not the small, fairly easy ones. No, the green eyed ones, with their psychic fingers and the bone-deep terror.]

Uh, right? I don't-- I thought I'd get to rest? Maybe sleep? I never thought I'd spend it in the dark, with people I don't know. A cigarette and a bottle of wine. I don't even care how bad it tastes.

Let's just not think about being reset. I am trying to keep a positive outlook on life and that's not helping.

( so, think of puppies and sunshine and getting out of this okay. )

Cigarette and a bottle of wine sounds so cliche but so good. I do love a good wine. If I were home, I'd break into the good stuff after this.

And how is that working out for you?

[A beat and Quentin makes a weird kind of face, turning to look at Ambrose.]

That wasn't sarcasm or anything. How is it working? Does it help? And-- and also, if I was home? I'd. Wow, I'd probably be reading right about now? If I hadn't died, I mean? But- you know what? I would do the same here, if all this wasn't going on? I'd be reading. Drinking wine. Practicing magic. The usual shit.

The positive outlook? Well, it's not doing great considering I'm dead and all. That kind of puts a damper on all optimism.

( he's trying and sometimes he can make himself forget he's dead until he remembers.

and then it's just sad once again. )

So, sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn't. I do my best to make the helpful times outnumber the unhelpful times.

Mmm. Some days I forget I'm dead? Because-- well, I have a heartbeat, for one. And two, I'm still breathing? I can feel things? I didn't expect dying would feel so much like being alive.

[Even down to his annoying nervous habits and his self-doubts.]

Uh, and how? How do you do that?

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