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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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?

Try and look on the bright side of things?

( he doesn't know if he can really put it into words. he just...tries not to focus on the fact that he's dead and won't see his family again. )

I flirt, I make friends, I drink, I try and help out and sometimes I try and convince myself that there's something after this that I'm heading towards.

Oh, just that?

[And it startles a laugh out of Quentin, which he quickly muffles in his sleeve because-- murder spirits? And also, because it sounds weird in the stillness of the forest to laugh like this. But he's smiling wide and arching an eyebrow at Ambrose.]

You flirt? Here? Yeah, okay. Why the hell not. Yeah, why not take chances since we're all dead anyway and this place seems. Seems pretty fucking intent on making us suffer. [And then in a quieter voice.] I know there has to be somewhere better than this. After, or just outside? It doesn't matter. Our stories don't end here.

It'd be nice if you were right. I can deal with this being the end because I've lived awhile but...

( he trails off and sighs. )

Things still feel incomplete. And I wanna flirt with so many more people, if I can.

[Voice full of conviction, because Penny is out there, running an office in the Underworld, and there were so many rooms, so many different paths to take and yeah, maybe Quentin's lead him here, but that doesn't mean it ends here.]

I know there's more, because I've seen it. And I hope you get to flirt with everyone you want to, before this ends. [he flexes his empty hands and shrugs.] I want to toast to that, but. Still no wine.

You're an optimist, aren't you?

( nothing wrong with that. )

I don't know if you're right but I hope you are. It'd be nice for this to not be the end of all things.

Not really, no. I-- I have hope? I have to, because the world is pretty shitty enough without it. And. It helps, to keep thinking that it's going to get better? That I can do something to make it better.

[So very philosophical, and maybe it's the dark, or the trials of the past days, weeks, months.]

It's not. Come on, I don't think standing around for too long is a good idea.

Maybe some of that hope'll rub off on me.

( because he's been thinking for too long that this is it, the end of the road and there's nothing past this. )

But you're right, let's move. We can chat about the future when we're not being hunted by scary spirit things would probably roast over an open fire if they could.

I, uh, right. Thanks? For that picture? I've never had to worry about being spit-roasted before. But I am now.

[He nudges Ambrose with his shoulder, smiling and they set off down the trail. Nothing but darkness and trees all around, and there are too many noises. From their own footsteps and the dragging noises from the travois. The crinkling of fabric and the footsteps echo through the dark, making it impossible to tell if there's anything following them.]

Maybe? I never know what I say that might rub off on people or the other way around? Once, and this was with my friend Julia and it was before I even knew magic existed. But. We were at this party, and she convinced me to dance. That wasn't-- I still feel sorry for everyone else there about that. But. That's not the part about rubbing off on people. So, we were dancing, just doing our thing and suddenly, there's this girl grinding up against me? And- I didn't mind too much. Just a little, because she made it harder to keep up with Julia. And I thought she was just dancing? Turns out, she was trying to remove this acid green glitter from herself? Because it made her break out in hives and I was just the closet person there, wearing a lot of clothes? So, she rubbed off on me alright.

[A tiny pause]

I ended up spending the night trying to calm her down and hose her off with cold water, to get the hives to go down. It was a pretty good party.

Okay wow, that story took a turn that I was not expecting and that's a good thing. Seems like you were there for her in her moment of need. Hopefully you made a friend or something afterward?

( that seems like a great meet cute story for the start of a friendship at least. )

Even if it didn't, at least it's a great thing to tell people at parties and...in the middle of attacks by supernatural creatures.

Uh, I didn't? She, uh, her friends came by later, once she was-- once she looked like herself again. But. Yeah, so that was something that happened.

[If only he'd made a friend, but really. Quentin rarely had any doubts about who and what he was, and how much that tended to turn people away. He's was so fine with that. Really. Honestly. And shit at lying even to himself.]

Yeah, well. I figured, if we die here, at least we'll die laughing? Or, something stupid like that. [he throws a worried glance at Eliot again.] You wouldn't happen to have like a bag of holding or something, right? Because that would be really handy right about now.

I don't even know what a bag of holding is. Magic bag?

( that's his best guest. )

I can probably conjure a bag of some kind of a bag of holding sounds specific to not just be a regular messenger bag that makes me look adorable but intelligent as well.

You don't-- but. I thought you'd been alive for something like a hundred years or something. Okay, so. Uh, a Bag of Holding [Said so carefully Ambrose might even be able to hear the capitalization.]- is a magical bag, but it's larger on the inside. It can hold a car? Or, or an army? It just depends on how much magic you pour in to it, or. Or it depends on the skill level of your character, but. Same.

I-- uh, what? You can-- I don't think a bag can make you look adorable? Because it's a bag? And being adorable is more about your face? Not that--uh, your face is fine? It doesn't need accessories to be adorable?

It's an accessory! It can bring out my adorableness.

( how did you not know that with eliot waugh as a friend, quentin? if eliot ever woke up, ambrose was going to have to tell him about this. )

We didn't have bags of holding that I'm aware of. Or maybe we did and it was just never something I used. It can hold a car, really?

Uh, okay? I don't-- what? Are you sure?

[Because there's no way anyone would notice a bag, if they didn't notice Ambrose' face.]

Well, yeah? In the-- in the game? It can hold a car, or a horse. In the game. But, with all these- [vague gesturing with his hands] different people here, I'd hoped that maybe someone would have one? Or know how to make one?

In the game?

( yes, that's what ambrose is going to catch on for the moment. )

What game?

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... so sorry about Q being a dork!

hahahaha it's so adorable.

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