In the Night Moderators (
inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-11-16 06:26 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- akira kurusu (al),
- allie pressman (brooke),
- bucky barnes (gail),
- crowley (mj),
- dana scully (carlee),
- ellever brandt (crow),
- jason grace (erica),
- javert (rachel),
- jon snow (rachel),
- lunafreya nox fleuret (liz),
- m.k. (shira),
- masaomi kida (wind),
- nancy wheeler (chrissy),
- prompto argentum (daimon),
- quentin coldwater (ireth),
- steve harrington (zelly),
- vanitas (king),
- zihuan cao pi (gemini)
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 moves his hand away.
"He might never wake up," he admits, sighing. "Unless we do something. Figure out a way to rouse them. Healing doesn't do anything----there has to be something keeping them under."
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"Thank you," she responds again, genuine relief in her voice. She shakes her head, lifting a hand to lightly touch his cheek. "Don't say those things. He will awaken, as will the rest of these people," she continues, shifting slightly. "But you are right. We cannot stay here forever and wait for a miracle. We must take action. Perhaps they are under some sort of powerful spell..."
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"Spell, incantation, poison. We don't know, but they aren't waking up and nothing seems to budge them," he says.
He spares a glance at the door. "Do you think she knows? The Lighthouse keeper?"
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"Whatever it is, it is powerful. But even the most powerful of spells can be undone," she offers, before her gaze drifts back to his face, her expression growing more serious.
"Absolutely. My dear friend, Ignis, once told me that she mentioned to him being able to have some control over the ghosts and spirits that dwell here. If that does not scream 'guilty', I don't know what does. But right now... I suppose we have only speculation."
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After all, the Lighthouse person has been very silent throughout all of this. If that doesn't tell Crowley who to blame, he doesn't know what else would.
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She agrees, and she's hardly afraid of the woman who calls herself the 'Keeper'. Robin. She is, however, afraid for their loved ones, should they just leave. But there's only one way to find out.
"If you wish to go, then I will accompany you."
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"Let's go, then," he says, nodding towards the door. "We can fly. I'll carry you."
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"Very well," she replies before she blinks. "Are you certain? I wouldn't want you to break your arms or your back on my account."
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Besides, Lunafreya can't be that heavy. Crowley's carried far heavier in his time for far longer. He can handle a few miles. The flying spirits, though----that is something he worries about. He doesn't know how he will be able to fight in the air.
"Anything that trident of yours can do?" he asks, stepping towards the door. "Because we'll probably still need to defend ourselves."
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Looking at her weapon, she takes it in both of her hands, humming. "At home, it allowed me to call upon the Gods and the aid of fallen kings, among other light based magics," she begins slowly, frowning. "This place has stripped me of that magic, but it is still considered a royal arm and I can still very much stab my way through enemies. I do wonder, though, if I were to use healing magic on these spirits... do you think it could do any sort of damage?"
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He remembers his trick with the muzzle seemed most effective against the hound spirits they fought, but other miracles did little to nothing against them. Who knows what a healing spell could do. It could be exactly what they need.
He holds the door for her.
"And don't worry, the moment you're too heavy, I'm dropping you." He would never drop her.
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And she is going to be absolutely blasting anything that comes hear them with as much healing magic as she can. Between stabs and jabs, of course.
Such a gentleman. Smiling, she walks outside and looks back at him.
"Thank you. And yes, good. I am glad that we are on the same page." She wouldn't fault him for it; heavy is heavy and being air born whilst carrying someone can't be the easiest thing in the world.
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He steps after her and looks up to the darkness of the sky, then over to the darkness of the Lighthouse. He takes a breath, and extends out his long, black wings.
"If I'm holding you, I'll need you to defend us. I can avoid shots at us, but you'll need to keep any flying spirits away," he says. He's certain there won't be many out there. They have to all be focused on the town right now.
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Part of her brain, the more logical part, thinks of the Bonfire. Thinks that perhaps they should grab at least one torch before take off, or try to. But doing that would waste time, and so she turns to him fully, nodding again.
"I can do that. I promise, anything that comes at us is going to get skewered."
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He steps towards her and gives her an awkward look. How best to carry her? Lift her up in his arms? Hold her under the armpits?
He opts for holding out his arms.
"Here, you decide how you want to do this, I'll go along with it." That's his experience with most human women in general.
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"If you are certain. Here," she approaches and winds an arm around his neck gently, swinging herself up into a bridal style position. Her arm immediately comes back to her front so that she can secure her weapon properly.
"Is this alright? Are you comfortable enough?"
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"Hang on," he says, holding onto her.
He looks in the direction of the Lighthouse, focuses on the light there, and beats his wings, lifting them off the ground. He spares a glance back at the Invincible, trying to see if he can catch a glimpse of the human soldier person, to make sure he's watching over Aziraphale while he's gone----but he has to focus on where they're going.
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She's going to have to ask him where he keeps those wings of his. Later, perhaps. When they get home.
"Yes, thank you, dear Crowley," she replies, grip tightening onto her trident. She's hoping that they're not going to run into too much trouble; she's more concerned about what may be lingering at and around the light house, after all. But those green eyed spirits are no joke, and she's not sure just how high they can go. "Here we go."
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He flies up, staying as close to the light as he can, but up above the treeline to avoid the spirits. He can't see anything, it's just so dark.
"What's out there?" he asks, "What do you see?"
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She squints in the dark, peering back and forth. It's hard, and she can barely make anything out.
"I see..." she makes a noise that sounds half unsure and half frustrated. "I think I can make out the silhouette of the lighthouse in the distance," she continues, before her head whips off to the right suddenly as a noise catches her attention. "...I fear that we may not be alone up here, did you hear that?"
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He slips a hand around Luna's shoulders to pull off his sunglasses, get a better view of the sky. He doesn't have any way of tucking them away without losing a grip on Luna, so he just lets them fall. They hit something on the way down. Something dark and moving below them. He squints his serpentine eyes at the darkness, at the shape of the Lighthouse in the distance.
"I'm going to make a dash for it," he says. "This isn't going to be fun. Hold on tight."
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When his sunglasses topple, she does make an attempt to grapple for them, but she misses and they drop; she makes a mental note to perhaps ask Rastus for a new pair for him whenever she gets the chance. What's worse, is that she can see them bounce off of something just beneath them, and she frowns, brow creasing for a moment before her gaze turns back to Crowley. She can hear something absolutely hissing at them as it circles.
"It's alright, you needn't worry about me. Do what you must, I'll try and fend anything off," she offers gently, nodding her head.
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Hopefully he can do a better job of keeping her safe than he did with Aziraphale.
He takes off towards the Lighthouse at a sharp dart. He holds onto Luna and soars quickly, feeling whatever is around them start to move in, guarding the Lighthouse from their approach.
Something suddenly hits his wing and he hears a crack as a row of primary feathers shatters on the impact. He tumbles to the left, only just able to keep himself upright.
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The grip she's got on her Trident makes her knuckles turn white as he takes off, making a bolt towards their destination. As something screeches at them from the left, she spears at it blindly; she knows she got a hit in, because the screech turns into a howl of pain, and she can see it tumble out of the sky. One down... Gods only know how many left to go.
But they're jarred suddenly, and there's a sickening crack. Her eyes widen, and she looks at Crowley again as feathers fly. "Crowley! Are you alright?"
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He dips them down, then shoots back up as he makes another dash towards the Lighthouse. They can get there, he thinks. They can do it. He's a strong flier, even with an injury. He can make it.
Something barrels into his side, and he takes a dive again, gripping tight onto Lunafreya. He struggles to right himself when he feels something else go for his wings. He flaps at them desperately trying to get them off.
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cw: gore
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