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

Her death

[knifecollecting]

[It's a simple marker, a wooden cross tied together with twine. The cross bears one name, Joanna Beth Harvelle. It's small enough that the name barely fits and contains no other information - no dates, nothing else usually found on a grave marker.

If one deigns to approach and leave an offering, they'll find themselves transported to a small town street.

It's too quiet, but suddenly it's too loud. Never met the demon in this meat suit, but I know the name. Meg.

She brought Hellhounds. Not like the invisible Reapers standing around waiting for Lucifer to raise Death aren't enough, gotta bring some giant-ass invisible dogs too? But no, we can't give up here.

The Colt would help, but there are too many. We need somewhere to regroup, one of the shops. The boys are back there, but-

Shit.

We can't do this without Dean. He has the Colt. We need to get these bitches off us, get to Lucifer.

This would be easier if we could see them. Shotgun'll get me close enough.

One, two, not hitting the trash can so I must be hitting one of them.

Fuck- what the hell was that? I can see why-

Someone's talking, someone's got me, but there's so much blood. Glad I didn't like dogs growing up, this would really put me off them. Dean's moving too fast, I can't see. I'm already dizzy, that can't be good.

Time- how long has it been? I've been on comfier floors, this place sucks. I don't think I'm getting out of here.

My legs are numb, I can't feel my fingers much either.

We can't stop here. They can't give up. If Lucifer gets Death...

He'll take out everyone. Humanity.

Fucking hardware stores, everything we need except a doctor. If I'm not getting out of here, neither are those bitches.

I have an idea.

Mom shouldn't stay. I can't make her leave. She's right, I can't move and-

They're all going to suffer for this. Send them right back to Hell.]

[callada]

[It's a scene as alien to him as Will's spaceship. The empty street with black, smooth pavement instead of cobblestones is ominously barren, and the invisible creatures that stalk it are truly a frightening threat. Jo herself, he's surprised to find, isn't a bad shot with her unusual weapon. He hadn't taken her for a fighter.

She's with friends, though, it seems. That's good. She didn't have to die alone with her gut-wrenching injuries. Even though they were up against something horrific, they were against it together. Jo, he can see from this, is somewhat like him - she plays her cards close to her chest and lets others underestimate her. But she's kind, and a hero to her world, even if those there might not ever get the chance to recognize it. Her friends will surely miss her.

Rosinante has visited so many of these scenes now that it's starting to become tiring. He needs a smoke and has none. Needs sleep but keeps thinking about what kind of creature or force has the power to pull these memories from each of them and give them to all the rest. He's quick to move on from the grave, but he leaves behind the offering he'd placed - a cup of whiskey. Appropriate for a fallen hero, he hopes.]