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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I. Building a Barricade

[Seeing the others collapse had been shocking, more so because nothing seemed to wake them, but standing around didn't seem to be the wise course of action. Enough years on the battlefield had taught Jon to recognize when an attack is imminent. Elena wouldn't be safe in the open.

Once he had returned her home, he set about reinforcing the cottage. The windows were too exposed and the door could easily be broken down. Makeshift shutters were put up and a wooden barrier across the door erected. He needed to be quick with this work, it wouldn't be long until the attack came. And anyone who seemed idle would be roped in.]

If you want to make yourself useful, you can scout along the perimeter. Whatever is going to happen, they might be more focused on the others at the feast.

II. Battle of the Bastard

[The normal spirits weren't anything to fear. They were strong, fierce and managed to give him several serious blows, but they were no different in his eyes than soldiers and Free Folk he had fought before. He might be run down and ragged, bleeding in various places, but fear was in the back of his mind. Adrenaline and instinct had control and directed him in his fight.

The green eyed spirits, those left him rooted in fear. Every sound around him made him flinch, lifting his sword, ready for their appearance and another bout of the madness that they could inflict. Even when he needed to rest, he was still on his guard, enough that he jumped to attention, his sword raised if anyone came close enough.]

You should be careful walking around, I almost rang your head like a bell.

III. Aftermath

[With the spirits gone, the full weight of his fatigue and pain hit Jon in rapid succession. He felt weighted down, as if he were wearing a full set of armor. His body ached as blood pooled out of him, the feeling far too reminiscent of that one night...

'For the Watch'-

He shook his head, focusing on trying to patch himself up, but his arms and body felt so heavy.]

Give me a hand?

IV. Wildcard

[Any other ideas? Feel free to write them up here or hit me up at:

la_fille_en_histoire]

[The Soldier holds up the metal arm, lets it glint in the faint lantern light. It's their own personal fucking shield, and can more than withstand a simple sword strike. Whatever metal it's made out of, it's a lot stronger than steel.]

You wouldn't have gotten close.

[Then, though they know exactly who Jon is, given the whole "dating the Soldier's secondary technician" thing he has going on, they say:]

This is Elena's house. Is Elena in it?

Edited 2019-11-20 21:42 (UTC)

[The man's cockiness rubs an already frustrated Jon the wrong way. Elena being passed out and the spirit's attacks and already left him feeling close to a rabid wolf, now somehow this man managed to make it worse with one lift of his arm.

It almost made him want to try, but this wasn't the time or place.

He stiffens, never having seen him before but apparently the man was more than familiar with Elena and where they lived. His eyes narrowed, trying to determine how much of a threat he was.]

Elena is safe. The spirits don't seem to have an interest in those asleep. Only the rest of us.

[It oddly doesn't come across really as cockiness. The Soldier doesn't display many of the signs of a challenger: no eye contact, but rather a diffuse kind of stare that avoids picking any one thing to stare at; utterly expressionless, even when showing off what could plausibly be considered a weapon as much as an appendage; tone completely bland.

And yet. There's still something menacing about them.]

She's asleep, then.

[Both good... and bad. Since no one knows how to wake the sleepers. The Soldier eyes Jon for a beat, then offers,]

Many of us are defending the Invincible. There are barricades and patrols. If you want to join us. And bring her.

[They'll feel a lot better having Elena under their own watchful eye, too, to be honest.]

[It wouldn't be the first time that Jon misinterpreted someone's response as cockiness where there was none before. With the added edge of the spirits, as well as Elena being passed out, he was viewing almost everything as a threat. It seemed the better way to survive, even if it was more foolish.

Her strength would be better to have at this time, but Jon couldn't say that he was thrilled with the idea of her being in as much danger as those awake were.]

She's better here. I know the surroundings of our home better and it's already barricaded and reinforced.

[He looked back towards the cottage.]

The spirits don't seem to be targeting the ones asleep.

For now.

[The Soldier has noticed the same thing. That doesn't mean they plan on leaving the ones asleep out in the open, or undefended, of course.

They look Jon up and down. Measuring, weighing what little they know of him. There's some ancient, ingrained part of them that refuses to be impressed-- something that ain't gonna let some jackass break the heart of their little... technician? That's not the word that goes there. But they don't know what word actually goes there.

That doesn't stop them from glowering a little and saying,]

If she is hurt. Because you decided to stay out here alone. I will make you pay for it. Just so you know.

There might be some other threat for them.

[Something mental, maybe? This place had taught him that it was never so simple as a spirit standing in front of him. There were enough psychological games to taunt with. He could easily protect Elena from the threat in the waking world, but there was no way to know if she was facing something in the dreaming world as well.

Only his hunch and he was never optimistic.]

Who are you to even make those threats for her?

[Her family was dead but not here. She had said she didn't have anyone from her world...at least that he knew of. He didn't like this, a man he didn't know suddenly making threats on Elena's behalf.]

She's safe here. I won't let anything happen to her.

She is my technician.

[Which really means nothing to Jon. The Soldier is vaguely aware of that, but unwilling to explain the ins and outs of a relationship that doesn't really make a ton of sense anyway. It'll just make them sound even more fucked up. So they just say:]

She is important. Show me your fortifications. I may be able to help make them better.

[If they have to leave Elena in the care of a normal human, they're going to make sure she's as safe as possible there.]

[It really doesn't mean anything to him, but he keeps his face stoic and stern as always. It was some sort of relationship built on a mutual understanding. That really was all that mattered. Everything else was just words.

Not even a 'please', but it's better than threats, so Jon leads him around the cottage.]

I bolted up the windows and made sturdy shutters. The door has more reinforcement. All of this was done with the time I could manage, but I mean to keep working on it when I'm not patrolling the grounds.

[The Soldier follows, eying the building critically.]

Shutters are outside. Boards on the inside will be better. The spirits are almost as strong as I am. They could pull those off. I can get you some. How strong are the walls?

[The Soldier pauses to rap on the wood with a metal fist, frowning thoughtfully. Seems sturdy enough.... They could probably break through it with time, but hopefully no one would give a spirit time to try without engaging and pulling them away.]

Bookshelves are against the windows inside. If the windows break, it would shatter across the floor. [And it seemed like the best barricade...but he couldn't afford to turn down help that was offered.] Thank you. The walls are sturdy enough, but that doesn't mean very much when I don't know what spirits are going to attack

[So long as he was outside, he'd be enough of a distraction.]

We should keep contact. If something happens and I don't respond, you need to come for Elena.

[At least he's aware of the weaknesses and did what he could without further materials. The Soldier nods.]

Boards for the windows, inside, and bookcases against the walls beside them or at the corners. Corners are weakest for things with claws and teeth.

[Maybe not things that punch, but they haven't run into many of those yet. They finish the trek around the house.]

I can come by once a day. As part of my patrol. Or do you prefer network communication.

[ Waking up felt... different, this time. She'd been out of sorts, confused, her memories a jumble before slowly falling into order. The feast. The sunlight. Being trapped for so long and yet having no real concept of time.

First, it had been hallucinations. Now, dreams?

She'd been outside for barely two minutes and already she'd become overwhelmed by it. The smell of so much blood everywhere aggravated the hunger that gnawed at her, made her pale and weak. She pushed through it though, using her speed and heightened senses to move through the area to find him. Jon. She needed to know he was okay. ]

Jon?

[ He was barely in range of her light but she knew the scent of him better than anyone else here. ]

[He'd need stitches, but his hands didn't want to remain steady and everything felt heavy and exhausting to him. A simple lift of his wrist and he wanted to sleep. Elena's voice though pulled his attention, removing some of the worry that had kept hold of him since she was asleep.

Despite how he looked, he still tried to smile to reassure her, knowing this wasn't the sight that she wanted to wake to.]

Elena.

[He tried to get to his feet, but only ended up sliding back down against the tree, letting out a sharp breath.]

You're awake. Are you all right?

[ Seeing him alive was... relieving doesn't begin to describe it. The feelings within her were so much more than just relief but she couldn't begin to try discerning a more fitting word. He was her anchor in this place and the sight of that smile broke her heart in the best ways.

But then he fell against the tree and she was beside him in a second, setting her lantern aside in a hurry to get her hands on him instead. One went to his cheek and the other his chest, no thought given to the blood and grime covering him. ]

I'm okay, I promise. But you're hurt.

[ It took every ounce of willpower within her to resist the siren call of his blood, her hunger and instincts trying to force her to follow those predatory urges. So instead of the blood, she focused on the sound of his breathing, the rapid beating of his heart, worry and fear etched into her expression. ]

Let me try to help. It won't be perfect but it might take the edge off.

It will heal.

[Deflection masked by an easy smile, as though he didn't feel the pain from his earlier battles and the fatigue from several days without sleep. She was awake and seemed to be unharmed, at least reassuring him that she didn't have to face anything dark or serious in her dreams as he worried about. In this place, there always seemed to be some sort of trap or trick, but for once Elena was spared.

He gave a small huff, offering her the bandages. Better that she do this than him, he couldn't seem to keep from shaking or find much strength to lift his hands beyond his lap.]

It doesn't need to be perfect right now, just enough that I don't bleed out while I sleep.

[ He reminds her so much of herself in that moment, just waving off how bad things might be despite the fact that she can clearly see just how bad it all really is. She can smell that he's lost a good amount of blood, hear in his breathing that he's exhausted. She needs to help him—

She just hopes that he'll let her. Taking the bandages, she holds them for just a moment before diving in headfirst. ]

My blood can help with that. Before I came here, it would have healed you completely, but it can at least control the bleeding and speed up the process a little. I know it's gross and not what you're used to — but please Jon. I can't lose you.

[ Because what if he died and didn't come back? The fear in her expression will hopefully be enough to convince him... and to cover up just how much all of this is effecting her physically. ]

[The sudden rush into the request, followed close on its heels by her need for him disarms any protests he might have initially. He knew that feeling, having had to spend several days facing that probability while she was asleep and then before with her trip into the woods. He hadn't liked any of it, so he wasn't fool enough to ignore what the sight of him now might do to her.

He let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a sigh and laugh, needing some sort of response and it was better than falling asleep. He already was giving her his blood. What was the difference if she offered some to him? He had eaten worse things, lived in harder conditions and in this place, he couldn't afford a long convalescence.

It's not as if he wasn't compromising his morals almost every day now.]

How much do I have to take?

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EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones | OTA

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