EVENT LOG: GRAVES

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
GRAVES

characters: everyone.
location: Bonfire Square.
date/time: July 12-19.
content: mysterious shrines appear and bring visions of death.
warnings: likely violence and potentially gore.

time to pay your respects.

It happens when no one is looking, when most of the town is asleep and the rest are inside. A makeshift cemetery has come to Beacon, taking up residence in the middle of Bonfire Square. Each monument, shrine, and altar is dedicated to someone who now resides here, a memorial of their previous life.

Some may be drawn by curiosity, others by fear, and some may simply have to pass through this strange graveyard to get to the Bonfire itself. Whenever a person gets near, the altars beckon with a mysterious urge— an urge to approach, and an urge to leave something behind. They will feel compelled to make offerings at the various shrines, but doing so has a curious effect; it causes one to experience the death of the person whose grave they've honored.

Whether you resist the compulsion or give in willingly (or something in between), you'll also have to wrestle with the fact that a grave exists for you. Will you let your death be known, or try your best to keep it secret? Destroying it sure won't work, as it will return— with a duplicate somewhere else in town.

However you choose to deal with this, one thing is hard to ignore— this a tangible reminder of your death, and the fact that it's probably permanent.

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Comments

Washington | all prompts OTA

[hardwearing]

[ The headstone over Wash's grave is small, very plain, and heavily weathered. The edges are crumbling as if it's been forgotten and uncared for and much like the man it belongs to it has visible scars, gouges in the grey stone that obscure parts of the engraving. It's more or less a traditional military marker, including rank and wars fought, but isn't immediately identifiable as Wash's... because that's not the name he was born with. The symbol at the top is simple and nondescript. ]

DAVI? ???TER
FREE?????R UNSC MC
HUM????OVENANT WAR
CHORUS
NULL CONF????
APR 4 2526 - JUN 15 ????

[ ooc: I'm up for anything, feel free to tag with a wildcard or hmu at cuddlebug or in the discord if you need to plot! ]

i; death (two for one!) and destruction (July 12)

[hardwearing]

[ Those who leave an offering at Wash's grave will suddenly be thrown into a war zone. It's like something out of a science fiction movie and viewing it through his eyes means you're also inside his armor, his helmet's HUD flashing proximity alerts and status messages as he fights. No one else around him seems to be in armor as they struggle to hold their position around an old, alien-looking temple, but stranger than his comrades' lack of equipment are the enemies themselves.

The Null are a race of shapeshifting robots, and in this case have been specifically engineered to kill. Although they vary in size and form they are all articulated with hundreds of thousands of small moving parts and seem to be constantly rearranging and adapting to attack or protect or repair themselves, and they're communicating instantaneously through a hivemind although none of them "speak." Some are like tanks, others small and spindly and agile, still others seem to have an extra protective exoskeleton and carry strange cylinders with them. The largest among them are about eight feet tall and 2500 lbs, and they dramatically outnumber the group that Wash is with... and just keep coming, firing off crippling electric blasts from a distance to stun targets in hopes of getting a clean kill with what looks like a laser cutter.

Wash is exhausted, hungry, and hurting, running low on ammo and having trouble keeping track of the chaos around him. Although many of the fighters (Wash included) are mostly using conventional weapons like guns and explosives and swords, there are also magic users attacking with lightning, ice, and fire, summoning shields and spectral entities to help. It's a whirlwind of metal and movement and cacophonous sound, and they can't stop. This is endgame, if they lose this fight they lose the war, and no one will be spared.

At first, Wash is dismissing the alerts on his HUD about as fast as they're coming in. But then a motion tracker to his right seems to get his attention and he turns just in time to see one of the fortified Null units closing in on a small woman with dark hair and pointed ears. Many observers will recognize her as someone in Beacon, some might even know her name is Kyna. She raises her hands and an obviously powerful bolt of lightning hits the machine, but it doesn't seem affected like the others. It only speeds up, skittering forward on three elegant metal limbs far faster than the woman can scramble back. Wash breaks into a run, but it's no use -- he isn't even halfway there when the robot stabs her in the abdomen and then shakes her body off its weapon, leaving her to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap.

The cold terror that rushes through Wash is all-encompassing, panic and denial and the irrational belief that if he can just get to her, she'll be fine. Unfortunately for everyone, this was never going to be the case, but especially not when Wash screams her name and starts firing at the Null as he gets closer. It turns to him and with eerily smooth movements raises the cylinder held in its other upper limb. He's too overwhelmed by the need to kill it and get to Kyna to dodge what he thinks is just going to be an electric blast his armor will take the brunt of, but what hits him instead is far worse. As he stumbles back he suddenly has no idea what's going on.

Where is he? Was he fighting? There's definitely a fight happening, but what was he doing...? He looks down at himself, giving the viewer a good look at his armor as he raises his hands in bewilderment, and when he glances back up the Null is on top of him. To add insult to injury he's too stunned by the brain scrambler to even attempt to defend himself, and it stabs its laser cutter straight through the chest plate of his armor and drags it down diagonally. His HUD blares warnings, but they're unnecessary. Wash doesn't need his armor to tell him he's done for, the blood already bubbling up into his mouth, splattering on the inside of his helmet. The pain is unbearable, but at least it won't last long, and honestly that's not what hurts the most. He drops heavily to his knees and the Null moves away impassively, on to the next target, giving him a clear view of Kyna lying a few meters away, obviously dead.

Again, he's failed. He couldn't even make it there. There are a few final frantic thoughts as the battle fades out around him, mostly incoherent. The names of friends he can't call out to because he's choking on his own blood and hysterical bursts of grief, then a fleeting and unclear "we can't lose" and "he'll bring her back."

She's the last thing he sees before he falls visor-first into the dirt. ]

--

[ As soon as Wash is compelled to leave his first offering and realizes what's happening -- an event, it's a bullshit event, just like Hadriel had, and if the lighthouse keeper is another wannabe god screwing with them for their own benefit he fucking swears -- he goes hunting for his and smashes it to bits with a borrowed sledgehammer. No one needs to see his death, to feel what he felt, or to know his name. If someone already made an offering... sucks for them, but at least it won't be an issue anymore. Right?

Anyone who sees this memory is welcome to figure out Wash's identity whether they've seen his armor or not, based on Kyna's presence and obvious importance. The two of them are usually together around town and they're not very subtle. ]

ii; useless campouts (July 13-14)

[hardwearing]

[ Wrong. The next 'morning' when Wash is out for his run and struggling to ignore the compulsion to stop and make offerings to every grave he passes, he comes by the site of his grave again. It should be a pile of rubble... but it isn't anymore. No, the headstone is back in one piece, if not restored beyond the state it first appeared in, some bits still obscured. Wash slows to a stop in front of it, breathes in and out a few times with very deliberate evenness, and then curses to no one in particular.

That's how it's going to be, huh Beacon? Well, Wash isn't giving up that easily. He sits himself down right then and there with his back to the headstone, hiding the writing on it, and has no intention of moving. Anyone who comes too close will get a warning look -- it's very clear that he's guarding this grave, and will attempt to stop anyone who looks like they're going to make an offering. He'll chat with you if want, generally accepting of company or if some kind soul wants to bring him a snack, but drop items at your own risk.

What Wash doesn't realize yet is that his grave hasn't only repaired itself. Destroying it the previous day also created a duplicate, a second marker on the very outskirts of the square that anyone can happen upon to witness Wash's death despite his best efforts at guarding this grave site. He can't be in two places at once, after all.

Maybe some kind soul who sees the memory and figures out whose it was should tell him the situation, because he really is planning to camp out here until these graves disappear. ]

[evocation]

[Kyna doesn't know about the second grave yet, so she can't help there, but she knows exactly how Wash feels about this situation without needing to be told. She grabs some food from The Invincible and heads to his grave, and as she approaches, she's hit with that familiar wave of compulsion. Now that she's expecting it, it's easier to fight, but it's still an obnoxious grating need at the back of her mind as she sits beside him. Kyna sets the plate in front of him and then scoots close, resting her head on his shoulder.]

Hi.

[hardwearing]

[ Wash glances up at the sound of footsteps to see Kyna approaching from the direction of The Invincible, lantern in one hand and a plate in the other. At first he isn't certain what to expect, if she's going to try and talk him out of guarding his grave or might actually want to make an offering he'll have to talk her out of... the last thing he wants right now is an argument. Not with Kyna. But she just sets the plate down in front of him and claims his shoulder as a pillow, and Wash can feel himself uncoil a little instantly. He shifts to get his arm around her, turning his head to press his face into her hair; he can eat in a minute. ]

Thanks... you holding up okay?

[evocation]

Yeah.

[She thinks she's handling this a bit better than him, actually, but she doesn't say so. She just presses close, looping her arm around him.]

Are you okay?

[hardwearing]

I guess.

[ He wouldn't be surprised to hear that, because she'd be right. He's not handling this well at all, as used to memory sharing as he got in Hadriel. This feels more like his first event all over again, that dream share where he'd stubbornly refused to sleep for as long as possible, just to keep people out of his head. It's not something he know show to manage or avoid besides just sitting here, guarding his grave and warning everybody off. Because he can't handle people seeing, not this, not strangers and not something so raw and devastating and personal. He doesn't even want people to see the name on the headstone because it's not for them to know. None of this is. ]

I don't know if anyone came by before I found it, that's all. The not knowing isn't great.

[evocation]

Oh. Yeah, I get it.

[At least with the dream sharing back in Hadriel, you knew. Here, there's no way to, and while Kyna almost prefers not to know so she can pretend it's not happening, she knows Wash is different.]

I didn't see anything. I promise.

(f) NOW IN THE RIGHT PLACE la la la

[preseance]

( he doesn't know the name, but he knows the military designation of marine corps. he's already learned his lesson about leavin' material objects, so instead he stops to say a prayer. eternal rest grant unto them, o Lord, and let eternal light shine down upon them. may this man one day find peace among his brothers an' sisters in arms and whatever family he calls his own.

the vision hits him as he makes the sign of the cross. an' panic, which ain't rightly a thing what often grips him, surges up. because he knows that girl, an' the armor he's wearin', an' that means this is.

lord. wash an' kyna.

it hurts all the more for the knowin', an' when the experience is done an' he's back in the world he goes to his knees, one hand outflung automatically to catch himself on the marker an' to keep from hittin' the dirt. he's breathin' hard, adrenaline surgin' hard, an' once he realizes what he's grippin' onto he lets it go and lets himself fall backwards, scrambles away from it with rather less dignity than what he normally comports himself with.

soldiers, an' medics beside have learned through a trial by fire that you can't stay still when there's clear an' present danger. his heart's beatin' so fast it's fit to break ribs, an' he gets back to his feet at a good clip. he always hated it. seein' the replacements come in an' get whittled away by the germans. he stopped makin' friends with the new fellas, on account of knowin' their numbers would be down by half in a month or two besides. but. he'd let his guard down — what harm could it be, now they're all dead an' in the same boat? he likes them in a soft, genuine way an' to see their end writ plain an' awful besides makes a ruin of him.

but he puts it away. he has to. an' he needs to get outta here before the compulsion takes hold an' he says or does somethin' else.

he's near back to the inn when he sees wash sittin' in front of a grave. even just seein' him is like a lance, an' gene feels guilty as all get-out for the fact that he stepped inside his life an' bore witness to somethin' that ought to have been personal an' private. )

I'm sorry.

( he don't quite blurt it out. but it ain't said with his usual composure, neither, an' he's still faintly breathless. what's he apologizing for, wash? it's anyone's guess, really, but yours'll probably be right on the money. )

[hardwearing]

[ Wash is leaning back against his headstone with his head bowed and eyes closed, but glances up at the sound of footsteps. Someone else he's going to have to warn to keep walking, he suspects, but is surprised to see it's Gene. There's just enough ambient light from the bonfire reaching them for Wash to be able to tell, and as he gets closer it becomes obvious that there's misery etched into his expression. Wash feels a stab of guilt, himself -- he hadn't realized what was going to happen when he'd pressed that bullet into the dirt in front of Gene's marker, of course, but it's still something he didn't have permission to see. To feel. ]

Gene?

[ There's really only one thing he could be apologizing for, in which case he should too. Of course, he's assuming that Gene would've made an offering either yesterday before Wash smashed his headstone, or early today before he realized it had popped back. ]

Hey, it's okay. I think we're probably even. I'm sorry, too. [ He lifts a hand, beckoning Gene over. ] Come keep me company? I'm just trying to keep anyone else from...

[ He can't finish the thought, is really stupidly upset at the fact that Gene saw, that he knows how Wash screwed up and exactly what he felt, but what's done is done and after twenty one months of this kind of bullshit in Hadriel? Wash isn't going to get mad at anyone for this kind of thing except the one responsible. Right now his resentment is directed entirely and possibly erroneously at the faceless lighthouse keeper. ]

...just. You can sit if you want.

[preseance]

( he sucks in a breath between his teeth, half a grimace, an' then he steps in closer and sinks down to the earth beside wash. he still feels sick, an' it ain't a matter of the dying (it ain't never bothered him, really, to experience mortality in that way) or anythin' like that, it's just. wash and kyna are good people.

not that once in the history of anythin' has that ever stopped death in its tracks.

he draws one leg up, braces his knee on it. lord, he thinks he might actually slap a man for a cigarette about now, but in lieu of one he's nervous and jittery, fingers tapping at nothin' in the air. he ought to see about gum at the general store. )

I can go sit at the other one, if'n you want. I don't mind it.

( it's personal, an' private besides, an' gene'd rather safeguard someone else over himself. his death was easy. probably the least of all the ones here, an' the only thing in it is a secret that, the more he thinks on, the less he thinks he really needs to keep in the afterlife anyhow. )

[hardwearing]

[ Hmm, it looks like that nicotine withdrawal is setting in, huh Gene? Wash has never dealt with that himself but he's well aware it's not fun. He doesn't comment on it, though, because they really have worse to worry about right now. Gene'll get through it, he has no doubt whatsoever.

What he does have right now is a distinct sense of dread, when Gene says "the other one." ]

Uh. What other one..?

[preseance]

( it hadn't occurred to him that wash wouldn't know, an' so he looks at him askance an' then glances behind them both to assure himself it's the same grave. could have been that wash was watchin' over kyna's given what he'd seen, but — no. it's the same one, wracked and weathered with things broken an' chipped away. )

I ain't noticed 'em movin' about, but there's another one with your name on it up the way, over past the bonfire nearer the river.

iii; unhappy acceptance (July 15-19)

[hardwearing]

[ Eventually, someone does tell Wash that his efforts are pointless, and although he's extremely displeased he's forced to accept there's not much he can do about it. So yes, now he has two unattended graves free for the offering. He hates absolutely everything about this. Way to start off with a bang, Beacon, he hopes you're happy with yourself.

He does succumb to the urge to offer things to a few other graves over the course of the rest of the week, but fights it as best he can. More because it's such an invasion of privacy than that he's trying to protect himself, really. Anyone who runs into him while the graves are still around will find him sullen and quiet, only barely acknowledging anyone else's presence. It's not entirely clear whether he needs company or to be left alone, but either way he doesn't want to talk about it. Folks are free to try, or to call him out on whether or not what they saw was in fact his death, or just ask what the fuck was up with the shapeshifting genocidal robots... but for the most part Wash won't be initiating conversations.

Stubborn as ever, he runs his training drills around town and keeps to a schedule as best he can, choking down meals in the tavern at regular intervals. You can't have a breakdown if you refuse to acknowledge anything's wrong, right?

Yeah, let's see how that goes for him. ]

tavern

[callada]

[Once it looks like Wash has finished guarding his grave quite so actively, Rosinante visits it. He's curious - Wash seems like a nice fellow, if a little quiet. Maybe like himself, come to think of it. But that armor is so unusual, so unlike what he knows.

A cup of whiskey on the marker, then, like he's left several others here. Alcohol is always a wanted gift for the dead. The scene that unfolds is nearly incomprehensible to him with how foreign it is, but he recognizes Kyna. So they knew each other before this, then? She was the one who couldn't create fire quite right, that first day. They died together. It must be some small blessing they've both arrived here together.

It's later, on reflection, that he realizes he's heard a description matching those robots before. Nate had told him about them - the shapeshifting creatures with their terrible weapons, fighting a war against people trapped by the gods who had fed on emotions. That's what that was, wasn't it?

He catches Wash in the tavern late one evening. The man looks like he's just come back from a run, and looks about to run off again, also. Nobody really wants to hang out and talk to anyone this week, and Rosinante himself is no exception. Irritable from having to ration the few cigarettes Gene could spare, angry at this place for bringing that pain back when it was already so raw, he almost just walks on by. But this place still aches to be understood, and if Wash doesn't want to talk, he can always just leave. He nods as he approaches, then sets a plate of fries on the table between them, willing to split them if it eases conversation.]

Wash. Are you managing all right, with all this madness going on?

Re: tavern

[hardwearing]

[ Wash is desperately trying to stick to some sort of routine, now that he's given up guarding his grave -- there's no point, anyway, right? He can't guard them both, and although Gene did kindly offer to mind the second one, he doesn't intend to take him up on that offer. It's too much to ask. He is struggling, though, with the knowledge that people are definitely seeing and that he's succumbed a few times himself, spying on others who probably don't want their deaths seen either.

It isn't any easier just because he's dealt with such invasions of privacy before, to know there's not a damn thing he can do. Rather it just makes him feel more helpless, so here he sits, sulking.

When someone sets a plate down in front of him he glances up -- and up, and up -- and sees with visible surprise that it's Rosinante. They haven't spoken much since that first night, but he'd seemed kind and rational. Exactly the kind of person who doesn't deserve this nonsense, and Wash had been upset to realize after the fact that he was the one Five mentioned as dying on the rocks. He should have followed up before now, and there's a pang of guilt for that too. He's been too wrapped up in his own misery.

Maybe he can do better right now. Wash gestures to the seat across from him for Rosinante to sit, if he wants. ]

About as well as I ever do with this kind of thing.

[ Which actually means "not well" but Rosi can draw his own conclusions. ]

Can't really fight it, as much as we might want to. How are you dealing?

[callada]

[Sounds like enough of an opening to stick around for. He scoots the chair to the side in order to sit on the floor, for otherwise he's had trouble fitting in these seats and keeping his knees from banging the underside of the table.]

I'm managing. [And he'd elaborate, but -]

With "this kind of thing," you mean you've experienced something like this before?

[Nate had only mentioned that those gods fed off their emotions. What like seeing one's own death and having others see it as well could Wash be referring to?]

[hardwearing]

[ Seriously, Rosi, what did they feed you to get you so tall? Wash's lips quirk up a little, not quite a full smile but it's something. ]

We need to get you a floor cushion. And... yeah. I was stuck somewhere else, between home and here, and there were beings that played with us a lot like this. Mind games to make us feel specific emotions, that they fed off.

[ He didn't mention Hadriel to Rosi before, and has no idea that Nate did -- or that the tall man has connected the two of them. Soon enough. ]

I'm not saying that the lighthouse keeper is up there feeding off our misery or anything, but this sure feels familiar.

[callada]

I talked to Nate first day I was here and he mentioned something like that too. People stuck in a cave, with gods feeding off emotions. And something about a war against shapeshifting robots. You were there too?

[Yes, clearly he was. But, one step at a time, to let Wash elaborate at his own speed. It's horrifying anyway, the whole idea of being stolen and kept as some kind of emotional battery against one's will. If this is the same situation, Rosinante is not going to take it well.]

tavern

[spitefullight]

[ It seems people are coping in their own ways. Healthy or not, it was easy to see people were not happy. Especially, this man who looked like he was even struggling to eat. Elden isn't sure if they're upset or not but one thing is clear, this guy did seem bothered.

The boy steps over, and slides a glass of water in front of them, canting his head toward them. ]

Do you want to talk about it? [ He says it bluntly, but he figures it's best to speak his mind here. Even if some people have tried to write him off as "just a kid" he would still offer what help he could give. Even if it was just an ear.]

Re: tavern

[hardwearing]

[ Ohhhh no, he's definitely not happy. Wash is only trying to eat at all because he knows he has to keep some kind of a routine or he spirals, and that's not something he can afford to let happen ever again. So food at regular intervals, sleep on a schedule as much as he can manage, and sticking to his training regiment even if it's completely useless in death. Better to not need it then regret he didn't keep it up.

He doesn't expect company, though, at least not from a complete stranger, and that accounts for most of the surprise in his expression. The rest is, yes, due to the fact that it's a teenager, but death doesn't care about such things unfortunately. It's just sadder. ]

No. I want it to be over already, so the damage stops spreading.

[ It comes out a little clipped, awkward, like he doesn't know how to address this without appearing vulnerable to a stranger. God, Wash, learn to people. But it's then that it occurs to him maybe this kid is approaching him not just out of random concern for his mood, but because he saw and figured it out... it's not rocket science to connect the dots between him and Kyna. His expression softens a bit, but also turns kind of wary. ]

...did you...?

[spitefullight]

No.

[ He answers immediately before the question is finished. He looks at the other with a bit of a sad expression of his own, but, Elden just looks at other with no trace of recognition. Considering he hadn't been told to leave yet, Elden just grabbed the seat across from them, pulling it out and sitting down.

His gaze shifts towards the window, lips knit together as he stares off in contemplation of the graves outside.]

But, it's obvious what's wrong. People seeing how you died, you not getting a say in who knows or how they know. People experiencing exactly how you felt....it's like an invasion of privacy. [ Really, it's the best way he can think to describe it. He lets out another exhale before looking back to the man, giving something of a shrug.]

So, I figured I'd come ask. Least this way you don't have to give context on what happened, just...you know, vent about why it's upsetting.

[hardwearing]

[ The stranger claims the seat across from him and explains his take on the situation, and Wash finds himself nodding along. It's a little more complex than that for him, because it's not just his privacy being invaded, but he doesn't want to explain that part and risk this kid -- or someone else nearby -- getting curious.

He doesn't particularly want to vent, either, because the most upsetting part is definitely the emotions he knows are winding up experienced. His guilt, his grief, his terror, none of it for himself. It's intensely personal and no one's business. Not even this kid's. Like he just said, all he wants is for it to be over to minimize the damage. But they have no control over that, and this guy wants to help so... he'll try to be a little more polite for someone who obviously means well. Or maybe just needs to vent themselves? ]

Sounds like you've got the right idea already. [ He shrugs, eyes cutting away. ] I should be used to this kind of thing, it happened all the time the last place I was.

[spitefullight]

[ Elden's brow perks a bit out of curiosity when he hears the other say that. What did they mean by that? Was this another one of those people who were from a place and ended up in another place before coming here? Well, no harm in asking; ]

I hope you don't mean waking up from being dead in some spooky afterlife. That would be really bad to have to go through the same thing all over again.

OFFERINGS ONLY

[hardwearing]

[ ooc: This is for if you don't want a thread but would still like to say your character left something and saw Wash's death. Lmk what they're offering so I can keep track! ♥ ]