EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

[worthallthis]

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.

[antiwhat]

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. ]

[worthallthis]

[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.]

[antiwhat]

[ 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.

[worthallthis]

[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.

[antiwhat]

[ 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.

[worthallthis]

[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.]

[antiwhat]

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. ]

[worthallthis]

[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.

[antiwhat]

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?

[worthallthis]

[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.]

[antiwhat]

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. ]

[worthallthis]

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.]

[antiwhat]

[ 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. ]

[worthallthis]

[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.

[antiwhat]

[ 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?

[worthallthis]

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.

[antiwhat]

[ 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. ]

[worthallthis]

Yes.

[The Soldier leans back against the counter to eat their soup.]

Aziraphale and Crowley call it brainwashing. I suppose. Programming feels more appropriate.

[So casual and calm, they are. Talking about this doesn't remotely bother them, it seems.]

[antiwhat]

[ Ellever's bowl is untouched for a moment as that sinks in. Brainwashing. Programming. And he looks like they're talking about, oh, a tattoo of his or something. Something casual. That's... that's something, all right. ]

...oh.

[ What do you say to that? Suddenly she wishes she had more of a grasp on social behavior with other people. ]

I'm... sorry to hear that.

[ Is that what you say? ]

[worthallthis]

[The Soldier shrugs, shovels some stew into their mouth. They're a polite murder machine, though: they wait until swallowing to answer.]

I'm dead now. They aren't here. And my handlers in this place are much better.

[For the most part, anyway. Eve is confounding and dangerous, but Misty and Javert are the best handlers they've literally ever had.]

[antiwhat]

[ Tentatively, she takes a bite of stew as he swallows his own, trying to wrap her head around someone being so cool and casual about their own (apparent) brainwashing. Ellever has a million questions instead of whatever else someone more tactful might say, like maybe changing the subject. ]

You've got handlers here?

[ That sounds Bad, maybe? ]

[worthallthis]

[She won't be the first person to think that, nor the last. The Soldier shrugs again.]

The Asset requires handlers for instruction. Otherwise I can't figure out things to do with myself between missions.

[And, because they're aware people get weird about having handlers, they add, with an obvious though not very good attempt at being reassuring,]

It's okay, Misty and Javert are good ones.

[antiwhat]

[ The Asset. Okay. She can deal with that as a name until she gets something else. Ellever cants her head to the side. ]

Well, I'm... glad you have good handlers, in that case.

[ If it's necessary and all that jazz. But Ellever's still trying to wrap her mind around not knowing how to function when there isn't a clear... goal? What constitutes a mission? So many questions she doesn't feel like inflicting on him. He's been so nice. She should make an effort toward politeness. ]

I don't think I've ever said that sentence before.

[worthallthis]

[They offer a look that is definitely apologetic, but without a lot of stress behind it. Their history is a mess, and at least they know it. It'd be a lot worse if they were a person and had to deal with everything that comes with that on top of sorting out everything else.]

Sorry. I know. It's weird to people. You don't have to think about it if you don't want to.

[Ironically, they'll answer pretty much any question she'd want to punt at them. There's a few they'll avoid, but not many, and not ones like what she's thinking. The Soldier only barely has a concept of "over-sharing" and rarely applies it to themselves.]