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

[originallutece]

[Selfish not to argue with him about who's going in, but it's not as if she's ever anything but. She presses his jacket to her bloody wounds and waits. There's no use in running; if he fails, it's not as if she'll get very far regardless. But that doesn't mean she isn't tense, gritting her teeth, hating the way she can so easily picture the results of the battle inside--

--and he emerges. So impossibly hurt that she genuinely wonders if he might just bleed out, and in that moment she makes a split-second decision.]

Get in the bloody cart. Don't argue.

[Because something isn't coming now, but that doesn't mean it won't in a moment. Anyway, she won't bring him far: just far enough to patch him up.]

[equinoctials]

[ He looks ready to argue, her don't, the cold dark pressing in all around them, smothering and full of untold danger, makes him think twice. His fingers curl around the edge of the cart and when his stomach tightens to pull the rest of him on board the wound in his side takes his breath away.

Riku turns. He can't say he's done anything more than half-collapse on the cart, the air above his bloodied hand starts to ripple, the way heat brings a mirage, this one shot through with wisps of black.

She might be - even as injured as she is - doing something about moving them, but Riku's stripping off the glove from his other hand with his teeth. The leather is stuffed between his teeth and his breath gusts through his nostrils, he pulls at the same darkness that he'd used to shield them from view and screws shut his eyes.

Dark Firaga casts no light, it's a smokeless heat that roils black and violet, and when it erupts from the palm pressed against his bleeding side it's his glove that smothers the animal noise that scrapes him raw on its way out of his throat. The smell is about what one would expect, cauterizing a wound with fire. ]

[originallutece]

[She doesn't wince, but rather watches his self-triage with a grim expression. It's a good idea, as is his biting back his scream of pain, but that doesn't mean she enjoys watching it. It's sickening and fascinating all at once, but for once, she isn't thinking of science. Just survival.]

Can you do that for me?