logsinthenight | 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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"Oh, yeah. With this thing? Definitely."

Cue the music. Steve already feels a hundred times more prepared for the incoming onslaught. If he were the kind of dweeb to give a thumbs up, he would. But as it is, he nods at Crowley.

"Those freaks won't know what's coming to them." Steve gives it another practice swing before he notices that between the two of them, he's the only one holding some kind of a weapon. "Hey, what about you? You gonna be okay?"

Crowley looks at the lad's weapon and his own empty hands. Crowley is far from a fighter, never has been, and all of his attempts to fight the creatures coming at them now have turned out less than stellar.

Still, he can cause a little chaos. And the lad's weapon is definitely interesting.

"What should I wield, then?" he asks, offering him a smile. "You pick."

"Spikes are always effective, right? There's uh - there's a weapon my buddy Dustin used to talk about, it was part of this game he and his friends played back —" When he used to be alive? When he wasn't here? The sentiment is so automatic, thinking about this place like it's only temporary and it isn't where he's going to spend the rest of eternity. But he can't help it when he finishes with, "— home."

Oof. Keep going, Harrington. Keep going, forget that thought.

"Big spiky ball on a chain. Could be fun. That or a gun that never runs out of bullets."

There are too many children here, Crowley thinks. The children wandering around this place, the ones sleeping, and this lad here. This can't be Hell, he's certain of it, but why put a child through Purgatory?

"What, a flail mace?" Crowley says. He reaches behind his back and produces one with two balls, adorned with spikes. "Used to be used in the late middle ages. Not always the most effective, but I think I can handle one. Been in my share of peasant rebellions in my time."

Not that Crowley was the biggest fan of the middle ages, the 14th century in particular. But he does know a thing or two about it, having either drunk or meandered his way through them. Might've been easier if he spent more of his time with Aziraphale, he thinks.

EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

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sorry this took a million years to respond!!!

ain't no thing, bb!