logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: ENTER MR SANDMAN (DEFENDERS)

Entry tags:

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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[There's not much to say to that, because Kuai Liang is right. It is dangerous to get too pessimistic about things in a place like this, pessimism is the loss of hope and losing hope in the dark? Leads to bad things. It leads to hasty plans and foolish risk-taking.

So, he nods and eyes the path carefully as they walk away from the bonfire and the light, away from most of the town. And he snaps out;]

Who's life are you betting on that being true? I'm not taking that chance.

[With some of the others, maybe. Maybe he could look at the sleeping faces of people he doesn't even know, and in most cases, doesn't even know the names of, and see if their lights are growing dimmer. But not Eliot.]

Here? There used to be more doctors here?

Don't mistake my meaning as not caring. I don't want anyone to die, I'm only saying that as of yet they seem to be stable.

[Since they can't wake them up in any of the ways people have tried he's not sure what they can do other than hope they remain that way.]

Gene. Wade. There was a huge attack a few weeks after we all arrived when some ventured into the woods to hook Robin up to the network. Half the spirits attacked, the other half were somewhat catatonic.

Similar to this actually, but brought on by the foghorn in the lighthouse.

Yeah, everything always seems stable until they die. Again. We don't even know if they could back, if they die like this.

[Or, if they'd come back whole. None of the hasty spells Quentin had dared throw at Eliot back in the cabin, and the few ones he thought of at the Inn had had any effect at all. None of the detection spells worked either, and it was killing him.

What if the sleepers were never waking up? What if the rest of them were going to have to take care of this many people, every day, until the next reset came or the World Eaters ate them all.]

The foghorn made them attack? That's-- that's actually pretty useful information.

You're creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you think the worst, it is bound to happen.

[He knows. He's been there.]

It seemed to. Robin claimed she was trying to get them to stop, but they didn't attack until after the foghorn sounded. At the time we didn't know the spirits communicated by sounds like music, we didn't know what was happening.

There wasn't any foghorn this time.

[Quentin points out, helpful as always. And he does have hope, he wouldn't be out here, trying to get sleepers and supplies to the armory if he didn't have hope.

It's just, hope comes in different shapes and sizes, and right now, most of his is tied up in find a place to hole up and find a counter-spell for whatever is making the sleepers sleep.

Maybe it's a curse? Maybe they just need more water?]

You'd rather be caught by surprise than plan for the worst? Suit yourself. But my experience tells me, that whatever fucked up thing you think is going to happen? It's going to get way worse before it gets better.

I plan months in advance, it's how I stayed alive as long as I did. But you cannot predict everything, it will likely be worse than you could imagine.

The amount of times I've been caught by surprise is minuscule. What I am saying is that without some amount of hope, a bit of optimism, then you are simply suffering. Don't make yourself miserable without good cause.

[He nods to Eliot all bundled up.]

When he wakes up he probably won't want to see you in a constant state of panic.

It always is.

[Quentin hisses back, before he shakes his head and just--]

No, listen. Listen, things can get bad and they can get worse, but we need something better than just hope. We need to plan for this happening again. We need to plan for what's happening right now.

[He walks a little faster, getting close to Kuai Liang so he doesn't have to raise his voice.]

We can fight. There's a lot of us, who can fight, and we're all still just-- just jerking each other off and not doing anything. We're barely surviving. And that's today. What about next week? Next month?

I have hope, but I need more.

If you want to go into the forest to bring the fight to them and strike preemptively, you will find that there are many who would assist you. There are countless people who are itching for a battle without thoughts of the repercussions. If that's what you seek it would be easy enough to accomplish.

Have you been to the lighthouse? Tried to sail on the lake? Explored down the river to where it forks? There's plenty to do and many are doing it.

That's not-- no. I don't want to start a fight. We'd lose, just like we're losing now.

[Headless and just wandering like idiots. Everyone just trying to survive the next wave, the next hour and there's really no plans in that. There's nothing but the will to survive and desperation.

But still.

Most of his own good plans came from that.

Or, maybe not good plans. But a plan.]

I thought about it. But, I didn't just mean for-- this? Us getting slaughtered while half of everyone is dead asleep. For all of it. For solving this quest.

[He walks in silence, eyes on the forest as he lets Quentin work it through. He can understand his frustration - Kuai feels like he's been thinking in circles for months now. Everything is planning and reacting but they don't seem to be actually making any progress. ]

That's what I mean though. Robin knows more than she's letting on, and we have no way of forcing information out of her. Yet.

[Though short of an assault on the lighthouse he's not sure how they'd threaten her.]

Have you been to any of Lord Cao Pi's townhalls? You can add any ideas you have - see if others can help sort out solutions.

Tall guy? Very full of himself?

[Quentin snorts and smiles, checking and checking again that Eliot is strapped down and that the travoir isn't slipping.

It's an easy few tuts, but he still has to stop or at least slow down to get the hand-movements right and the magic flows from his fingers and down to secure the knots holding it all together.]

Everyone is just talking to hear themselves. That's what I heard last time. We need something-- something that draws people together.

[Oh you are getting such a look right now.]

He's the Emperor of China, he is allowed to be full of himself.

Oh, hey! I'm not saying he doesn't have reason to? I'm just saying-- it's an easy way to. To describe him.

[Quentin holds his hands up, palms out- hopefully the universal sign of 'I didn't mean it like that']

[Okay that's fair. Because... it's true.]

I see.

In any case, I find the town halls are useful at disseminating information. I'm unsure what else you want from them? I too would like to have all the answers and know where to attack to end this. But that doesn't seem to be in the realm of possibility.

What I want? I want a manual. A book that will help us-- shit, I'd take a note? A piece of paper with weird writing on it? Anything that isn't just-- nothing?

[The path and the woods are quiet for now, a lull between attacks and there's just no way Quentin will allow himself to not stay fully alert. It's not paranoia if the world you're in, really is out to kill you.]

The meeting I went to? It was all just a lot of politics. And we don't need politics, we need a plan. We need someone to lead and make the tough choices.

Who would you suggest as a leader? Those who have tried to step up have found nothing but resistance. Because no one knows enough about what's going on to formulate any sort of reasonable plan that will coalesce people behind their cause.

I agree that we're not making as much progress as I'd like. But it's far from nothing. We've found all kinds of additional buildings, learned to communicate with the forest spirits, hooked up the lighthouse to the network, coordinated explorations, and people have come together now to defend those who can't defend themselves.

Work with what we have so that we may learn more. There's no plan to put in place that will solve anything instantaneously.

Though I won't deny that would be nice.

I, uh, I don't know? But someone. I haven't met everyone yet.

[Because they ferry kept coming, more people to keep track of and more lives at stake every month.]

We've found places to live and places to find trinkets, but. They're killing us right now and nothing we've found has made any difference. The only thing keeping us alive right now, is because they're not smart enough to wear us out.

Yet.

[Quentin shrugs, and looks out towards the dark forest all around them.]

And nothing about this is getting us any closer to the finding a way to get rid of monsters. Monsters big enough to eat a whole world.

No. No it is not.

[At least on that they agree.]

We're working on it. And we'll keep doing so. But I don't have any answers, and nothing that will put these fears to rest.

But perhaps someone will.

Holding out for a hero?

[It's late, or very early, and the days all blur together in a rush of battles and wounded and exhaustion, so Quentin does a stupid thing and he hums the song, singing along for the first line under his breath-]

'Till the end of the niiiight. He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast

[He cannot line face enough right now.]

Not exactly.

[There's rustling in the bushes and Kuai instinctively lashes out, sending a blast of ice that direction. No indication if it hit anything, but the noise stops. With how long it's been since they've seen anything he assumes that either the Invincible is overrun or the Armory is. They're out there... somewhere.]

The last leg of the journey is always the most treacherous.

[Still humming softly, Quentin just blinks as the ice flies through the air and he shrugs.

It's quiet for now, but after a few minutes of listening, the subtle rustling of the underbrush comes back. Like small feet dragging across the ground and pushing at the branches.]

I didn't know you could do magic.

I can't. And it's not.

[His attention is on the woods rather than Quentin, not wanting to have this argument right now. They have more important things to worry about.

At least the Armory is in sight. They only need to get to it.]

They finally realized we're away from the group and think us an easy mark.

Your ice- [a slight stumble over the words before Quentin settles on-] thing? Can you do it again?

I've practiced something like this with-- [okay, so not naming names because that's a big no-no] I can trap them. I-- there's a shield spell, and I can hold it behind them and then you do your thing. With the ice.

[The noises are louder now, like something stampeding towards them on heavy hoofs, the crisp crunch of branches being trampled.]

Or-- new plan, we run!

[He coalesces a ball of ice on his palm, closing his fist to shatter it rather than launching it anywhere.]

An artificial barrier? That would work, to delay them in any event.

[But what's coming at them now sounds louder, larger, angrier. Running would be the smarter move, though he disdains leaving a fight. In any case he throws up another ice wall behind them as they drag Eliot to the Armory.]

[Hands already up, Quentin throws the Shield Spell at the wall of ice-- which, wow! So cool. And runs.

As fast as he can possibly drag the travois and the heavy weight on top of it, legs pumping and heart racing and behind them, there's the crunch of shattering ice.]

Maybe later!

[the armory looms closer, the whole place dark as if it's been abandoned but Quentin knows it's not. Riku is in there, with more survivors and he keeps throwing up the Shield behind them in an effort to keep them all alive for just a few more minutes.

Just.

A little more.]

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thanks for getting that stuck in my head

You are so very welcome!

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