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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One of the first people Hope looks for is Scarlett, the woman who's like a big sister to her, who gets her, who's been here for as long as she has been. If she's awake, Hope wanted to fight by her side. If she wasn't, well...

...then she needed to make sure she stayed sleeping and not dead.

Sure enough, she finds the woman rather easily, and she crouches next to her, slapping her palm against her cheek a few times to see if she can rouse her, but to no avail.

"Shit."

She doesn't realize someone is approaching them, possibly to help. She's too focused on trying to get Scarlett's arm over her shoulders so she can try to carry her; Hope is strong, but the dead weight of an entire person laying on the ground is still something to overcome.

Hope may be strong, but the Soldier is stronger, and they're not risking letting anyone else carry their first friend in seventy years. Standing over Hope, they say, "Give her to me."

Their voice is almost, but not quite, a growl, and their expression is a scowl.

"I'll carry her."

At the very least, the Soldier looks strong enough to carry someone like Scarlett and then some, and has a gun in one hand.

She's just standing up, struggling only slightly to her feet, as she hears the man's voice. Her gaze flicks over in surprise; he's an intimidating figure, to say the last, but she's seen a lot of those.

That said, he's also relatively familiar.

"Fine. Take her."

She steps closer, waiting until he has a firm hold on Scarlett before she even thinks about letting go. Even then, she's watching carefully, making sure he's not having any difficulty.

"Go. I'll watch our rear."

Absolutely no difficulty. The metal arm hefts Scarlett easily over their shoulder, and pauses there just long enough to focus through the sounds of advancing spirits and other panicked Beacon residents to register her heartbeat. Slow but steady. Asleep, not injured. There's an obvious lessening of tension in his shoulders, obvious relief. This guy cares about Scarlett, that much is at least apparent.

"Thank you," they say briefly. "We have been gathering at the Invincible. Barricades, barred door, blocked windows. I'll take her there." Hope can, of course, come to. They would rather keep her safe, too.

"I'm right behind you."

The only other person she had to make sure was safe was her Uncle, and he was already inside. There were things she could do to help protect them once they were inside, too.

She was impressed by the guy's strength, for sure; he'd picked up Scarlett as easily as her father would have, when he was still alive. The sound of approaching spirits was enough to catch her attention back, though, and she waved him off.

"Go."

She turned toward the sound, back up a few steps as soon as she heard him start to move, her hands moving in a circular motion as she prepared a shielding spell if they needed it. Who knew what these spirits might throw at them, literally or figuratively.

The Soldier doesn't need to be told twice. They take off at a run-- not top speed, but rather a speed they anticipate Hope can keep up with-- towards the Invincible. Scarlett is an awkward burden, but not one that slows them down, just one that requires constant maintenance to keep her in place. The metal arm curls around her back, both for support and protection.

Come on, Hope, let's zoom.

It's clear as he starts to run that Hope has no issue keeping up at all, even when she has to turn her hear to make sure the space behind them is clear of danger. Her instincts kick in, her feet connecting easily with the ground, her balance steady even in the dark.

As they near the Invincible, she even speeds past him near the end, pulling the door open as he and his burden approach so that they don't have to waste a moment getting all of them inside. Once he's through, she steps through the frame, shutting it firmly behind her.

Excellent. They let her handle the door, but then turn and flip the deadbolt on the inn door and drop the bar they've installed. Dual-layered locks.

Scarlett gets brought back by the bar, where more of the sleepers have been gathered. They settle her down gently, giving her face a worried look and her shoulder a slightly awkward but still affectionate pate, before focusing over their shoulder in Hope's direction. "You are uninjured?" Just to verify. They honestly hadn't paid her much attention, in their haste to get to Scarlett.

Hope follows after him, her eyes firmly focused on Scarlett's face. It's too loud for her to be able to pick up the scents or sounds she needs to figure out her physical state.

She just nods at his question. "Yeah, I'm fine." She bends her knees, trying to get a better look at their friend.

"How is she? Just sleeping like the rest of them?"

"Yeah. Not hurt, not worse than the others." They edge a little further from Hope, whether to give themselves more room or to let Hope look. Probably both. At least it's not looming protectively over her to keep Hope back, which is an option that absolutely occurred to them.

Doesn't stop them from demanding, though: "How do you know Scarlett?"

There's a quick little sigh of relief. She can tell that he's on edge, but they all are right now, for good reason.

"She's my friend," she says, looking over at him. The word almost feels strange on her tongue, and it's the first time she's said it out loud. "My first friend in a long time, actually."

She straightens up, crossing her arms over her chest. "We got here at the same time, on the first boat. She's like...the big sister I never had or something."

Aside from the "big sister" part (the Soldier isn't even sure what that kind of relationship would entail, to be honest; they have no memory of siblings), that sounds eerily familiar. Enough to make them stare in her general direction suspiciously. Still no eye contact, but it's clear they're looking at her.

And ten they do admit, "Mine, too. First friend in a long time. First person to make me realize I could have those." Not that they're very good at it-- neither the Soldier nor Scarlett.

She's been an only child her whole life, so she's not entirely sure, either. Maybe Aunt would be more accurate? The word didn't really matter.

His statement has the corner of her mouth perking up. "I'm betting that was the case for all three of us, then." Scarlett wasn't exactly the most approachable, after all. "Maybe we should start a club."

"It figures that it would take dying to make some friends, though."

Given the Soldier's life, honestly, not that surprising. For once in their death, though, they don't immediately come out and say so. Maybe they're learning a little bit about oversharing?

"A lot of things seem better after dying," they say instead, pushing to their feet. "I'm going to get a couple mattresses from upstairs. They shouldn't have to lie on the floor." And someone should make sure the rooms upstairs are secure, too, and don't have more sleepers like this.

They glance at Hope. Coming too, or staying down here?

Given Hope's life, maybe it shouldn't be surprising, either. But now that they could technically die again, well that made things a little different.

"I guess." Her eyes follow him as he gets up, though after the question and the glance, she pushes to her feet as well. "I can help."

She gestures for him to lead the way up the stairs.

Two sets of eyes are better than one, even if one happens to be the Winter Soldier. And the feast outside had seemed pretty much emptied out, so it's time to fortify inside. "What's your name?" they finally get around to asking, stepping around a couple other sleepers, eyes roving over the familiar faces as they pass on the way to the stairs.

"Hope. Hope Mikaelson."

She gingerly moves through the sleepers as well, though she's avoiding looking at their faces for now. It's easier to keep functioning if she thinks of this as normal sleep and not a bunch of people she's lived with for the past few months in some kind of magical coma.

"What's yours?"

Ugh, they hate lying about this, but... it's not technically lying if they don't say it's their actual name, right? "You can call me Soldat." If she doesn't know Russian, it's a nice, safe designation to use. (If she does know Russian, it means "soldier", which would be very strange for a name.)

They smile just a bit. A tiny bit. "Scarlett calls me Tinman."

Lucky for him, she does not, in fact, know Russian.

At his grin, she smiles slightly as well, nodding. Scarlett does like her nicknames.

"Maybe I'll just call you that too." She's teasing, but she might very well do it anyway. It's easy to remember. She gestures with her chin to the likely reason for that nickname. "So, what's with the arm?"

"You can if you want. It suits." The Soldier moves part of the barricade on the stairs out of the way, for Hope to pass. Said arm lifts a table all on its own, without seeming to find it difficult, only making a mechanical whirring noise.

"It's my arm. I lost the real one. I don't remember how. It was replaced with this."

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EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

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