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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[ Waking up felt... different, this time. She'd been out of sorts, confused, her memories a jumble before slowly falling into order. The feast. The sunlight. Being trapped for so long and yet having no real concept of time.

First, it had been hallucinations. Now, dreams?

She'd been outside for barely two minutes and already she'd become overwhelmed by it. The smell of so much blood everywhere aggravated the hunger that gnawed at her, made her pale and weak. She pushed through it though, using her speed and heightened senses to move through the area to find him. Jon. She needed to know he was okay. ]

Jon?

[ He was barely in range of her light but she knew the scent of him better than anyone else here. ]

[He'd need stitches, but his hands didn't want to remain steady and everything felt heavy and exhausting to him. A simple lift of his wrist and he wanted to sleep. Elena's voice though pulled his attention, removing some of the worry that had kept hold of him since she was asleep.

Despite how he looked, he still tried to smile to reassure her, knowing this wasn't the sight that she wanted to wake to.]

Elena.

[He tried to get to his feet, but only ended up sliding back down against the tree, letting out a sharp breath.]

You're awake. Are you all right?

[ Seeing him alive was... relieving doesn't begin to describe it. The feelings within her were so much more than just relief but she couldn't begin to try discerning a more fitting word. He was her anchor in this place and the sight of that smile broke her heart in the best ways.

But then he fell against the tree and she was beside him in a second, setting her lantern aside in a hurry to get her hands on him instead. One went to his cheek and the other his chest, no thought given to the blood and grime covering him. ]

I'm okay, I promise. But you're hurt.

[ It took every ounce of willpower within her to resist the siren call of his blood, her hunger and instincts trying to force her to follow those predatory urges. So instead of the blood, she focused on the sound of his breathing, the rapid beating of his heart, worry and fear etched into her expression. ]

Let me try to help. It won't be perfect but it might take the edge off.

It will heal.

[Deflection masked by an easy smile, as though he didn't feel the pain from his earlier battles and the fatigue from several days without sleep. She was awake and seemed to be unharmed, at least reassuring him that she didn't have to face anything dark or serious in her dreams as he worried about. In this place, there always seemed to be some sort of trap or trick, but for once Elena was spared.

He gave a small huff, offering her the bandages. Better that she do this than him, he couldn't seem to keep from shaking or find much strength to lift his hands beyond his lap.]

It doesn't need to be perfect right now, just enough that I don't bleed out while I sleep.

[ He reminds her so much of herself in that moment, just waving off how bad things might be despite the fact that she can clearly see just how bad it all really is. She can smell that he's lost a good amount of blood, hear in his breathing that he's exhausted. She needs to help him—

She just hopes that he'll let her. Taking the bandages, she holds them for just a moment before diving in headfirst. ]

My blood can help with that. Before I came here, it would have healed you completely, but it can at least control the bleeding and speed up the process a little. I know it's gross and not what you're used to — but please Jon. I can't lose you.

[ Because what if he died and didn't come back? The fear in her expression will hopefully be enough to convince him... and to cover up just how much all of this is effecting her physically. ]

[The sudden rush into the request, followed close on its heels by her need for him disarms any protests he might have initially. He knew that feeling, having had to spend several days facing that probability while she was asleep and then before with her trip into the woods. He hadn't liked any of it, so he wasn't fool enough to ignore what the sight of him now might do to her.

He let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a sigh and laugh, needing some sort of response and it was better than falling asleep. He already was giving her his blood. What was the difference if she offered some to him? He had eaten worse things, lived in harder conditions and in this place, he couldn't afford a long convalescence.

It's not as if he wasn't compromising his morals almost every day now.]

How much do I have to take?

EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

aftermath

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