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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no subject
At least she doesn't have to think about it for long. Not half a minute later, there's an awful noise: a thump against the door that's loud enough to echo in her chest, and then it repeats once, twice, a horrible parody of a knock.
And a noise . . . like a coo, low and guttural, questioning as much as it is entreating.]
. . . five minutes. That's all we need. Five more minutes.
no subject
He knows better than to trust or hope a spirit's chirp outside might be from a friend, suspecting that most of them went into hiding themselves.
Riku motions at her, waving Rosalind away, presumably towards wherever she has somewhere they both can hide. If she starts to retreat, he'll go with her as quietly as he can manage, stopping to scoop up his lantern.
He'll pass it to her, too, if she'll allow him, watching the source of that sound warily. ]
no subject
There's breathless silence.
And then there's a bellow, low and long and loud, and Rosalind doesn't bother to keep her footsteps light; she races forward, grabbing Riku's wrist, both their lanterns jerking wildly, yanking them both in the closet.]
no subject
The bellow spurs them into action; she grabs his wrist and he doesn't protest, he reaches out for the handle of the closet door with the other to pull it shut behind them. In the light of their lanterns, sending fragments of light and shadow scattering off the walls of this narrow space, he motions to cover his ears.
It might set off the trap.
Then he places a hand over his heart. He closes his eyes. What he needs is the darkness and the best source he has comes from within - the greatest, the easiest to reach is all the grief and fury that lies just beneath the surface, what he swallows down into his heart so he can face each lightless day with the focus and determination he needs.
These are what he dredges up now, when he needs them: his complicated grief that can't and won't let go of them, the miserable and unceasing loneliness, the impotent rage that he should have and didn't prevent Kairi's death.
It billows out from him like a great black fog, filling up the space like dark smoke and obliterating from view everything, even the light of their lanterns. In it, Riku plugs his ears and waits for the concussive pressure of the trap to be felt through his whole body, if it's ever tripped at all. ]
no subject
But nothing like this.
It billows out like so much smoke, flooding through their closet, her lab . . . she's blinded in an instant. There's a worrying creak, but for a moment, nothing. And then the door opens, and a metallic snap, and then suddenly the world is shrieking.
It's a very, very loud alarm.
Even with her ears plugged Rosalind winces, but slides one foot out, bumping it against Riku's. If he's to move, she wants to know about it. It's impossible for anything to be heard above that siren's wail, but it sounds as though the spirit is stumbling around, there's glass crashing and an awful metallic crunch--
--and then claws at their door, scraping once, twice, before there's an awful splintering.]
no subject
And then he isn't there anymore, like he simply evaporated into the curdling black.
Riku has slipped into the darkness, he hears it splintering the door so he acts, he lunges blindly, dropping out of the ceiling with his blade point first until it bites into something, tries to slip back into the dark again to reappear from another direction. It's an old tactic, one of his most effective, but untested here.
It found the closet, so he's not even sure how much advantage the darkness here gives them, all he can do is deploy several point to point jumps to attempt to attack, and pray Rosalind stays put in that corner.
The ear-splitting siren makes his whole jaw ache, he realizes in the din he hasn't thought about what he'll do if it doesn't fall to this. Or how much more attention they'll attract with that siren. ]
no subject
So she stays put, her back jammed into a corner, but then-- then, several things happen all at once.
The first: a claw thrusts through the door, wood shattering at her feet. The second: it draws back, then thrust forward again, and Rosalind cries out as something sinks deep into her shoulder, piercing through clothing and flesh; in an instant blood pours down her front, staining her shirt a crimson she can't see. The third: Riku's blade hits home a moment later, and the creature's shriek of pain is almost as loud as the alarm.]
Riku!
[It's time to go. The cart's ready, and they can yank it along effortlessly, they can pull it as fast as they can run-- Rosalind stumbles forward in the dark, working on muscle memory alone.]
Come on!
no subject
As it stands, his ears are ringing from the awful sound, he hears the spirit shriek and feels the blow shudder up his arms, hears another sound and thinks that must be Rosalind's shout. There's a change in the scent of this Darkness and, recognizing hers, he reaches for her, finding the bend of her elbow. Her skin feels wet and warm.
Riku is already turning to get them away from the injured spirit, realizing a few moments later she must be bleeding. Did he hit her? Or did that spirit--
The Darkness begins to unfurl away from them, as it begins to fade he sees the cart. Turning it onto its side proves something of a hassle, but he doesn't see any other way of getting it through the door. He kicks out with a foot, knocking the alarm further into the lab.
The two of them, working together, can shove the cart outside faster than one alone. ]
Together we can do it, then get on!
no subject
Our lanterns--
[She'd completely forgotten.]
no subject
He doesn't. Riku sheds his jacket, quickly, wrestles out of the sweatshirt he wears under it and, wadding this up, he presses this against Rosalind and puts her hands there in his place. ]
Don't move.
[ He doesn't take his jacket with him; he takes his sword instead, sucking in a breath before he bolts back inside.
The alarm continues to bleat shrilly, it's the rest of the noise that makes it worse - the deceptively pleasant chirrup, the horrible roar that follows, the metallic clang and desperate thumps, a shout and an earsplitting howl that starts to gurgle at one great crash and then another.
A short while later, Riku emerges in the doorway in a stagger, leaning against it, lanterns hanging from both arms. He surges towards the cart and drops them there, gasping. Where he presses his now empty hand his side is nearly black with blood. ]
Anything... coming?
no subject
--and he emerges. So impossibly hurt that she genuinely wonders if he might just bleed out, and in that moment she makes a split-second decision.]
Get in the bloody cart. Don't argue.
[Because something isn't coming now, but that doesn't mean it won't in a moment. Anyway, she won't bring him far: just far enough to patch him up.]
no subject
Riku turns. He can't say he's done anything more than half-collapse on the cart, the air above his bloodied hand starts to ripple, the way heat brings a mirage, this one shot through with wisps of black.
She might be - even as injured as she is - doing something about moving them, but Riku's stripping off the glove from his other hand with his teeth. The leather is stuffed between his teeth and his breath gusts through his nostrils, he pulls at the same darkness that he'd used to shield them from view and screws shut his eyes.
Dark Firaga casts no light, it's a smokeless heat that roils black and violet, and when it erupts from the palm pressed against his bleeding side it's his glove that smothers the animal noise that scrapes him raw on its way out of his throat. The smell is about what one would expect, cauterizing a wound with fire. ]
no subject
Can you do that for me?