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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[ Ellever makes an indistinct noise in the back of her throat. When she was younger, Ezra had done a lot of testing. But never anything very scientific. He'd been far more concerned with her blacked-out eyes than figuring out a safety net. ]

Tested... is a big word for it. I lost control once, while defending myself, and we got news stories about some of the stuff it caused. [ Guilt leaks into her voice before she quickly takes a breath and attempts to dispel it. Finally, she looks up again. ] Seems to be a couple miles. Way more distance than I feel comfortable with.

[Ah, damn. That is a little much. If it had been a matter of even twenty or thirty feet, the Soldier's tactical mind could have worked with that. It wouldn't be fair to send her out alone one or two miles away from everyone else, from any kind of backup, just to use whatever powers she has. There are always other options.

They nod, then. And offer a last question:]

Then what can the rest of us do to help you keep control?

[It's asked with sympathy, rather than any kind of judgment. It just is what it is, and it will have to be managed. Like fear or anger, just with a more widespread result.]

Edited 2019-11-21 04:28 (UTC)

Don't worry. [ She shakes her head slightly. ] I've— I'm pretty good at managing it by now.

[ There are other thoughts on her mind, making it much harder than usual, but Ellever doesn't quite feel like sharing that part. She's gone over twenty years without an incident, something she feels pretty good about, and she hasn't slipped up yet. Even when being stabbed and clawed by the spirits, something she wouldn't have thought possible when she was a teenager. ]

We should just focus on making sure everyone's safe and this place remains... secure. [ Ellever offers a small, bright smile. ] But thanks for the concern. I really do appreciate it. I think we'll be okay if we just... make sure we're all banded together. United.

[ There's a smaller part of her that has another idea, but this idea hinges more on the length of the assault. The longer it goes on, the less likely they'll make it. They just have to hope it won't go that way. ]

[And it's not really the Soldier's nature to pry. So while they're fairly sure that's a deflection, in fact a handful of deflections, they're also not going to hassle her about it. They just nod one more time.]

There are smaller groups in other places who don't feel it's tactically sound to join with the main group. But a lot of us are here and working together. I think if this doesn't last more than a three more weeks, or so, we should be all right.

[That's when the Soldier estimates they'll run short of supplies. Of course, Crowley might get impatient and somehow doom them all in the next few days.... They offer her a (small, subdued) smile, back.]

And I'm getting pretty good at killing spirits.

[Besides, they come back if they die, and the spirits might not. They can kill the Soldier, and in a day or two it'll just come back to kill them, back. (Rather not test that, pal. Come on, Sergeant. We've died before. This might even be easier than cryofreeze. I'm not gonna old our fuckin' breath for that.)]

Sounds right.

[ There are a lot of people in the Invincible, but at least the sleepers don't appear to need much of anything. Of course, that's probably not going to be pleasant for them later; they'll wake up with dry mouths and terribly hungry.

They will wake up. Ellever desperately hopes it. ]

It's a good skill to train up. [ She gives a quiet, tentative laugh. What an absurd situation this all is. ] Apparently. I never thought I'd be saying something like that, and we've got a bunyip back home. I just really hope the spirits... get tired? Stop? Make up their minds as to what they want...

[It's not a drug, or it wouldn't still be affecting them days later. So it has to be magic, which the Soldier doesn't understand much, but which things must have an expiration date. Spells can't last forever, right? (A hundred years? Fuck, where did that come from? Sleeping... Beauty? That better be wrong.)

The Soldier shakes itself a little, out of the internal conversation, and says,]

If they don't. I will just keep killing them until there are none left.

[Matter-of-fact, if maybe a little facetious. Not quite a joke, but not as grim as "kill everything" really should sound.]

I think they know what they want. We just don't understand it. It might not even be to kill us. If they wanted to kill us, why not attack the ones who fell asleep first.

[ Her grin a bit stronger, now, than the previous attempts. But it doesn't feel right to grin in this situation, so it fades after a moment. Ellever sighs and leans back against the wall. ]

Or just kill everyone with... whatever they used on the food, and then try to kill the rest of us, too, [ she agrees. Death isn't the aim here. Or not all of it. Maybe a little death is intended. ] I'm not overly familiar with the spirits here yet, but the creatures similar to them back home have a difficult-to-follow mental logic. It's really different from how we think.

Or maybe we're not even there yet. [ Ellever shrugs. ] Maybe what they're intending is something in the future. But I hope not. I'd really like to be able to leave sometime soon.

They aren't people. Don't think like people. No. They may have a connection to the World Eaters, but not as. Servants of it. I'm sure of that. Even this may be a way to try and help us somehow.

[The Soldier considers that with a frown, then shakes their head. Even if that's true, it doesn't have a lot of hope for what comes after, future or not.]

We're dead, Elle. I don't know if there is any leaving. Even if we save this world in the two years we're allowed to try, our bodies died. Not everyone can come back from that kind of thing.

I know.

[ Ellever goes quiet, somber. That's why she's in this corner — mentally dealing with the fallout of being dead and what that means — but she won't say it. ]

I meant... here. [ An idle gesture at the walls. ] The Invincible. I don't think we're going to leave Beacon anytime soon. I... don't know if I'd want to.

[ If she goes back, she has to look Circe in the eye. And right now she'd choose getting mauled to death over that. ]

[The Soldier looks at her sidelong. There might be sympathy in their face, just a little.]

I don't want to. If it were me. Was your life a terrible one?

[It's the main reason they can think of why someone wouldn't want to go back to it, if it were possible.]

[ She looks at him, tries to imagine what kind of life he had that he doesn't want to go back to. If he hasn't offered his name, he's not going to offer that much. Ellever can respect someone who wants to keep a lid on things. ]

...it wasn't terrible. It. I don't know. It was mixed. [ Ellever lets out a slow, long sigh. ] My dad was nice. And the Moth. And my research. But there were a lot of things riding on my shoulders, you know? And sometimes it was too many things. Sometimes it just felt like...

[ Like she'd fail in the end. Surprise, surprise. Someone had forced her hand. ]

I don't know. I'll miss my dad. Otherwise, I'm probably better off here. [ She offers an attempt at a smile. ] At least I have good company.

[Oh, you've got that wrong, Elle. The Soldier has like no filter when it comes to sharing about their awful life. Just, you know. No name to share, and they weren't feeling up to "Soldat" today. Yes, their priorities are very fucked up when it comes to conversation....

But they smile, back. It's a small one, but it's real. Fond, even.]

There are good people. Here. More of them than I ever remember knowing.

[Then, very briefly, they look up at her and make eye contact. Just for a second, before looking off over her shoulder.]

I think you're one of them, too. So you should take care of yourself. And let people help if we can.

[ A fluctuation passes through Ellever as he calls her a good person. A nameless, ragged thing, howling no. No, she isn't. So many bad things are happening back home and it's all her fault. If she'd never existed...

But she says nothing, and her face, surprisingly, betrays nothing. It's something that Ellever is used to hiding. ]

I'll try. [ It's a nice smile. Seeing it makes it easier to forget the howling thing inside of her, the Other. ] Harder when everything's trying to kill you. [ Jokes! An attempt at a joke, anyway. ] But I'll try. And you check in, too, okay? If I should, you should.

[Someone as good as the Asset at hiding what they're feeling. Amazing. Ironically, they might well understand, even if she did share-- maybe not to the same extent but, well. Brainwashed assassin. They kinda killed a bunch of people. They nod.]

I come back here after every patrol and supply run. To eat and clean up, if I need to.

[Which leads to the next most important thing on anyone's schedules:]

Have you eaten.

[Look, making food is soothing, and feeding other people in addition to themselves makes the Soldier feel a little less like they're just plowing through the inn's supplies all on their own.]

Edited 2019-11-26 23:51 (UTC)

I...

[ This should be a simple question. Ellever doesn't need to eat quite as much as most humans, but she still needs to. But things have been chaotic, to say the least, and she's just trying to keep a lid on her own mind at this point. Ellever frowns, face briefly scrunching up as she tries to recall the last time she ate something. ]

I think so?

[ Her stomach isn't rumbling at her, anyway. Ellever shrugs. ]

I'm trying to go light on the food.

[ So that other people have enough. So that they last through... however long this is going to be. ]

[The Soldier gives her a Look. It is the kind of look someone would give a person they think is being very silly, and needs correcting right this instant.]

I tried that last month. We have extra this month. And you will be less prone to losing your temper if you are not hungry.

[The Soldier turns to head out of the storage room they've been hiding in, glancing over their shoulder to add,]

Come with me, Elle.

No, it's okay, I...

[ Don't need to eat much? Ellever lets that fizzle out. If she says that out loud, it's going to need some sort of explanation, and she just can't handle that right now. Not on top of everything else. Or, on the flip side, maybe she'll sound like someone with a really slow metabolism. But she just can't risk it.

So, reluctantly, she follows him. This serious guy with a metal arm and a sweet smile (when he does) who hasn't given a name. These are odd circumstances, no doubt about it, but then again, this is a very odd town. ]

I don't think I'm that hungry.

[ Is that better? Ellever shrugs at herself. She often feels like she knows nothing, like her over forty years of living haven't actually done much. Instead of trying to cobble up more excuses, she focuses on what he'd said. ]

Was food short last month?

[Well, she's coming, at least. Maybe they can entice her with something when it's made. They lift a piece of the partially-erected barricade in front of the kitchen door and set it aside, with the metal hand, then head on in.]

We crashed the ferry when it arrived last month. Lost about a quarter of the supplies. Since it was my fault, I made sure to ration myself carefully. Other people needed it more than me, anyway.

[Lost a bit of weight and muscle in the process, but it's all back now. They might not be sleeping during this siege, but they're eating like crazy to fuel healing and daily battles.]

But we have plenty this month. The ferry came with extra. And half the people aren't eating right now.

[Which sucks, sure, but is nice for their supply level, they suppose.]

Oh.

[ Duh, she thinks to herself. Maybe she's more out of it than she'd thought. For some reason part of her hadn't put together the whole ferry sinking thing and the supplies. Of course they all hadn't gotten unloaded. ]

Yeah, I heard about the last ferry. Or the... currently repaired ferry. Whichever it is. I mean... [ Ellever sighs, but she continues to follow him. ] We think we have plenty. Depends on how long this lasts. Right?

[ She's just trying to be realistic. About her own needs, and everyone else's. ]

Half of our people aren't eating. Because they're sleeping.

[That really does make a big difference. ]

I'm keeping track of how much we're going through. And there are still items in the store we haven't brought here. There is enough left for at least three weeks if the sleepers stay asleep. Until well after the next ferry is due. Even if I keep eating twice what most people do.

[Which they are doing. For once they're not even remotely trying to resist hunger. They need to be in optimal condition in order to protect people.]

There's stew on the stove I started this morning. Or sandwiches. Or I could make pasta.

[They fix Elle with an expectant look, though still not quite making eye contact. Obviously waiting for her to pick one.]

[ It takes a second, honestly, for Ellever to realize that she's supposed to pick an option. She was expecting to just scrounge. Anxiously she runs a hand back through her hair. ]

Oh, um. Stew? Stew is fine.

[ Whichever the least fussy option is. It sounds like the stew's already accounted for. Which, in itself, is an intriguing thing. ]

You cook, huh? A good skill to have around here. I can make... grilled cheese. That's about it.

[ A few other things, but honestly, they haven't turned out well so she doesn't mention them. ]

[The Soldier ducks to get bowls out of a cupboard, but her admission about grilled cheese gets a smile-- a bigger, better smile than the one before.]

That was the first thing I learned. Grilled cheese. I didn't even know what it was. Couldn't figure out how you grilled cheese without it making a melty mess.

[They straighten up and head to the stove to ladle stew into both bowls.]

I only learned anything about cooking since I died.

[ Ellever finds the nearest place to sit down, chuckling quietly when he talks about not knowing about grilled cheese. Her father doesn't know how to cook, either, other than slapping two pieces of bread and some fixings together; it runs in her adoptive family. ]

Since you died... here? Wow, you learn fast. I've tried to look up videos on the internet but, uh, I usually burn everything.

[ It's her attention span that's her downfall, more than anything. Cooking can be dull. Reading isn't. Sometimes she can force herself to focus, but usually she gets absorbed in an article on the internet and — there goes that. ]

I guess you must like it?

I do. It's defined steps to an expected outcome. It's soothing. Plus then you get to eat something afterwards.

[They bring one bowl-- full of thick broth, soft-boiled beef, potatoes, carrots, and onions-- over to Elle. The other they keep. Because the Soldier wasn't kidding when they said they tend to eat twice as much as anyone else. They're just about always hungry, particularly now that they're not sleeping.]

It requires patience and attention to detail. But I'm programmed with both those traits.

[ When the smell of the stew passes underneath Elle's nose, as she accepts the bowl, she starts to feel a little hungry. Maybe she's just overwhelmed, she thinks, and her body isn't quite functioning right. Who knows.

She offers him a smile, though partway through she tilts her head in curiosity at... how he words that phrase. ]

Thank you. ...you're programmed?

[ Does he mean he learned them? Or is he being literal? She's too curious of a person to let it go. ]

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