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

[shadowsran]

The urge to ask into his certainty is strong, and useless. Fair enough.

"How is everyone else? The town? I don't look around much when I leave, haven't exactly had time for small talk either." All these other people you're helpfully protecting, hmmph.

[worthallthis]

She shouldn't be leaving. See, this is why she needs protecting. The Soldier gives her a Look of clearly worried disapproval, but only briefly. The answer to her questions makes it melt away, and instead they actually give a little sigh, crouching to retrieve and reholster their gun. "Tired. Afraid. But all right. No one's died, no one too badly injured. We have fourteen people asleep at the inn. Including Aziraphale." Since they know Misty and Aziraphale are friendly. "One at the museum. A few in the village. Now one, here. The spirits-- the friendly ones, from the inn and store, and the nearby woods-- they're all missing. That one--" They nod in the direction of Ivy. "--is the only one I've seen. And I looked."

[shadowsran]

A reflexive smile. There's just no helping it. So odd a thing, to be receiving Looks.

"Nobody?" The surprise goes unveiled; Crowley at least would have bit it by now, by her estimation. Kudos, Beacon. The rest of this news is alternately comforting and distressing. She nods.

"Not sure if I'd call it good news or bad. I noticed the Librarian, but figured - I don't know, hiding or something."

[worthallthis]

Not for lack of fucking trying. The Soldier is working double-time keeping that idiot alive, it feels like. They almost feel... insulted by her surprise, though. Like she might doubt its training, skill, and devotion to this mission. "I am a good protector, Handler Misty," they say. "And I know how to withstand a siege."

Technically, the Sergeant knows how to withstand a siege, but somehow they never did get around to telling Misty about him. (Now's probably not the best time. No, we're not bringing that up right now. Or ever. Aw, buddy, do I embarrass you? Shut up, Sergeant.)

"If they are hiding, they are hiding well. I tried to find my contact, but they didn't respond, and I couldn't find them at their home territory." Yes, the Soldier has a spirit contact. Kind of sort of friend. They got give the spirit head-scritches and coffee, okay, that's friend-behavior.

[shadowsran]

Less a reflection of the quality of protection on offer, Soldat - however fantastic, she refuses point blank to believe any one person would manage to corral as many individuals as are currently populating the town, let alone keep that many safe. Plenty are doing fool things to endanger themselves or insisting on sticking it out alone as she is, at similar or terribly low levels of advantage.

"Your contact?" Whomst?

[worthallthis]

The Soldier may have slightly unrealistic expectations about their own ability to do just that. Or at least, in their ability to corral the ones using the Invincible as their home base. The ones outside their purview don't get the same assurances.

Except Misty, of course.

"Contact. Spirit. This high--" They hold their hand up almost as tall as they are. "--head and hands like an owl, dusty suit. Likes coffee and being scratched under the feathers on the back of their head and. Me, apparently." The Soldier shrugs, a little awkwardly. "They answer questions and give me warnings. But I can't find them, now." It might be inferred from the Soldier's faint expression and tone that they're worried about this particular spirit.

[shadowsran]

Friend, he means. He is describing a friend. Her nod is thus suitably sympathetic to this level of emotional investment, however aware all parties are.

"They're probably fine. Whatever blowup happened before we got here on the ferry, the nice ones were still around after, right? They might just know a better hiding place than us."

[worthallthis]

Honestly, they're aware, even exchanged the word to make it official. They just haven't had the greatest reaction from people when calling a spirit a "friend", plus it feels more personal than calling Crowley or Scarlett a friend. "Contact" is safer all right. "Maybe. I hope so. There are other possibilities." Worse ones, like they're being forced to fight somewhere, too. Or changed somehow, over the course of the events. Or killed. Spirits can be killed. The Soldier has been doing it for two days.

The Soldier shakes their head. "If they come back after, I'll ask them. For now, I'm not going out into the woods to look harder. I'm not stupid. And I have work to do here."

[shadowsran]

"How much, exactly?" Her eyes don't narrow, but she's curious. "You're not getting saddled with more than your share, are you?" He'd volunteer, certainly, but as far as she's concerned that means it's simply on other people to politely refuse him. One spectacular person need not get themselves killed for others' convenience.

[worthallthis]

The Soldier blinks at her blankly. "I don't understand the question. I'm not too busy. Or tired. I feel. Useful." For the first time in weeks, maybe even since they got here, it feels like they're actually making a difference. Doing something that actually really helps keep people safe, using their training for something good.

[shadowsran]

"You could be eventually, and this is how you set yourself up for people expecting a lot of you when you should probably be taking a little breather." It could take very, very little - return or no, she's not keen on the notion of dying.

[worthallthis]

They still don't really understand, but they're not going to argue with Misty when they've only just found her again. And it's not particularly comfortable to be lectured for doing exactly what they want to be doing, for once. So they nod once, a little hesitantly, and say, "I'll be careful. I'm not the only one on patrol. And I am eating well to make sure I'm in optimal condition." Since she worries about them eating enough, like Crowley does, she ought to be pleased by that, at least.

[shadowsran]

It's something, at least. She knows entirely too many stubborn people who could do with resting on one out of a hundred laurels considering how small her pool of reliable contact is. A nod.

"Who else patrols?"

[worthallthis]

"Javert, Rosinante, Kuai, Cao Pi, Akira, Lunafreya, and Elle. A few of those are not reliable." Cao Pi keeps doing his own thing, Lunafreya is more useful as a healer, and Elle needs lots of breaks. The Soldier is going to try to help enforce those for her, now that they know (a little) about her powers. "Xayah does fly-overs and helps snipe if there's a problem, and the medic person keeps slipping out for supplies." They need to work on that, keep her staying put while letting the Soldier manage supplies. (And that's going to be fun, because they aren't sure they can make themselves talk to a doctor.)

The Soldier focuses back on the question, and finishes, "Crowley is not allowed outside alone. A few others are in the area, and make their own paths, but not specifically around the Invincible. I try to keep track of them." Look, the Soldier is not a leader in any understanding of the word, but knowing where the various resources are is important.

[shadowsran]

No one ringing any immediate bells, as she knows Eleven by no name other than that, and thus less to worry about. Though, "Medic person?" Nothing she's heard of, nobody vocal about such power unless they're quiet themselves.

The work ethic on display here is at least unsurprising. Worrying, but unsurprising. Not worth arguing.

"And how often would I expect visits? Need to know when I'm allowed to worry."

[worthallthis]

It's not even Eleven, it's Ellever, so still not someone to know. El and her group are largely over in the village, mun thinks. Misty might have heard Javert's name before, as the Soldier's other current handler, but only in passing.

"I can come by once a day," they offer, skipping right past the whole "medical person" conversation. Doctors make it nervous. "Regular time. At the start of my patrol." Already they're getting ideas about bringing over some hot soup and grilled sandwiches and pasta. She has nothing here to cook with. She needs something warm to eat.

[shadowsran]

So nonexistent is the familiarity!

The skip is noticed, but not remarked upon. Filed away. Interesting.

"Any chance you'd stick around for lunch? Nobody else here is much for conversation." Ivy manages quite a bit nonverbally when they're so inclined, of course, but they've been quite firmly set to mope and fuss.

[worthallthis]

That earns a smile, small but pleased. "Guess you really must be bored. If I count as conversation. I'll stay a while." As long as she wants, really, within reason. They duck their head, wait for Misty to move to wherever she's keeping her food or places to sit or whatever it is she wants them to do.

[shadowsran]

"You always count as conversation, hey," she states, and one can tell it's true because it's paired with a nudge before she turns to guide him through the shelves. There are a few chairs tucked into one corner, her perpetual preparedness for company unlikely to come for once paying off.

"I also mean patrolling, hopefully. Don't see the point in dropping food off if you're not eating any with me."

[worthallthis]

"Oh. Yes, I can plan for that. I'll make sure to bring something for both of us." Make sure not to bring someone else to join them until after the visit. The Soldier may be a bit possessive of their time with Misty. Just a bit.

They pause at Matthew's makeshift bed, crouch to gently offer Ivy a lift on the flesh hand, to come along with them if he (she? they? it?) wants. And softly sings the "invitation to join our party" phrase, since they can't play the damn ocharinas, and have been working on learning those phrases that they have the vocal range for in a more natural manner instead.

[shadowsran]

It's a mutual sentiment, at the very least; too much intrusion would be politely but coldly received. Her friend, there. They're few and far between, and time oughtn't be wasted.

Ivy for their part manages to channel curiosity a little more than outright fear. Adjusting, slowly. However friendly the invitation, however, they have an unconscious dad to wait for. A vigil they won't be swayed from. Misty smiles apologetically.

"Best not to push it, they're shy, having a rough time right now. Gentle's the right way to go though. Acclimate a little."

[worthallthis]

The Soldier nods, hums the "I come in peace" phrase, then backs off a couple crouching steps before straightening up to follow Misty again, over to the chairs. They absolutely understand needing space and being gentle, and even having a rough time. "I can't use the instrument, so I'm trying to learn their language. By singing it. I learned how they refer to us."

A weird, automatic instinct has them pulling a chair out for Misty, then blinking at the chair like they're not sure why they did that. (Spoiler: they're not.)

[shadowsran]

"I ought to be trying that - I don't have much talent for the ocarina, and I worry about accidentally offending poor Ivy." Practice becomes a little less than harmless, in their current environment. "How do they refer to us?"

It's a compliment to his baseline cordiality that the chair hardly raises an eyebrow. He hasn't done it before, but it doesn't go against the idea of his politeness that currently resides in her head. Lowering herself into the offered seat, she smiles warmly up at him. "Thank you - someone doing that around you?"

[worthallthis]

"No. I. Think I remembered it?" The Soldier shakes themselves a little, then moves around the table to sit on the other side. It's a little nice to get off their feet for a few, anyway. "From Before." (It's what you do for a lady. I think.)

The Soldier shakes their head, too, and adds, "And they call us--" He sings the owl-friend's word for Beacon dwellers. It's easier on his voice than the other phrases, being properly in his vocal range.

[shadowsran]

To say she perks up would be an understatement. Has he mentioned a 'before' before? Not that she's immediately able to recall, and new territory is exciting territory. In all, but especially these mysterious instances. Retaining warmth, her expression takes on a certain earnestness. "That's good, I think. It's polite of course, but I mean the - remembering. Does that happen often? Things cropping up?"

It's a nice sound, despite the lack of translation. "Did you sing, ever?"