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

peter parker 🕸 prompts below

[webshoots]

→ grave

[webshoots]

[ peter's grave is a simple headstone, adorned alone with:

peter benjamin parker
he was loved

if it looks a little weatherworn, that's because it is; nevertheless, it seems well cared for, at the least.

when the graves first pop-up, peter had shrugged them off as a quirk of whoever slash whatever had brought them here; it's not the first time he's seen his (quote unquote) his own grave, but it's the first time he's encountered it quite like this. it's the first time he's really considered that maybe, just maybe, there's no way out of this one.

(and he'll circle back round to that thought eventually.)

then, he'd discovered what they do. he's curious, of course he is, but not at the expense of anyone else's privacy, not beyond the accidental. then there's the thought of his privacy, of—

—he'd died as spider-man, in that suit. in and of itself, that wasn't a surprise: if he'd had to guess at how he'd die, he'd definitely have guessed at it being not too far off of what actually happened. (unless the parker luck—

—ha.)

at first, he lingers — debates whether trying to deter people from his grave is the best option. destroying it seems oddly — distasteful, no matter how much he's tempted to. which means that when he hears the sound of shuffling, the sound of footsteps and of someone else approaching, he manages a tired, almost exhausted: ] Don't.

( peter won't stay at his grave, so if you want to leave an offering without interacting w/ him, that's cool too! just make a mention of it or lmk. )

[evulsed]

[ Vanitas will creep by sometime Peter isn't hanging around and leave one single stone enjoy your new paperweight. ]

[spitefullight]

[He had been on his way to just pass by this one as he was doing with many others now. However, the only thing that attracts him to this grave is the sight of Spider Man looking over it. The sight tells him this must be Spider's grave. He decides to approach and when he's told to "don't" he stops. His hands fold together but he takes another step, not towards the grave but to sit down next to Spider. ]

Not a good day, huh?

[He looks over to the man, and soon gives him a nudge with his elbow. ]

Wanna talk about it?

[webshoots]

[ —ngh is peter's first, immediate reaction. no, he doesn't want to talk about, he doesn't particularly want to acknowledge the fact that it happened, the fact that he's here and, assuming there isn't some kind of reality-warping or hallucination or illusion or alternate universe thing going on, he doesn't want to acknowledge there's no way back from this — death is death, generally speaking.

it only takes him a moment to recognise elden: the voice first, then his appearance, and there's a momentary silence where peter reminds himself that whatever issues he has with this — any and all of it — are nothing to do with elden. (come on, parker, there's gotta be a joke there somewhere—

—man, this is weird and unpleasant.) ]

—Not the best day I've ever had, but I've had worse, [ he concedes, before shooting elden a sidelong glance. if he's honest, it's not even the death, though knowing that other people can experience that is slightly disturbing, it's the rest of it: peter parker is spider-man. it's reminiscent of something he'd really rather not dwell on, and this time, there's no doc strange to help make it better.

(plus side, parker: there's only like, fifty people in the town, and only a handful would potentially even bother with his grave.) ] Look, I appreciate the offer, but [ a dismissive wave of a hand; talking about it's not his thing, but admitting as much is a touch too honest and definitely way too emotionally vulnerable, so he sidesteps the admission with: ] —I'm good. [ a beat; glance. ] How are you holding up?

[spitefullight]

[ Elden can at least appreciate he's not being told off. This whole thing with everyone's collective trauma, he felt like it was going to happen at some point. He's not sure when, but he figured it would. At the very least, Spider's not the first one to do it.

Still, though, he feels like he isn't getting the whole truth when Spider tells him that. That he's good? But, he can't see their face with that mask on so he can't be certain they're not. So, he just sighs a bit. ]

If you're sure. [ He won't press for it now. When he's asked though he pauses, his fingers rapping against his leg as he thinks. His death was not something he wanted to share...but when he thinks hard enough, it's the tomb stone and what was written on it. ]

Honestly? I'd have preferred if I got to write my own Tombstone epitaph.

[webshoots]

Sure, [ he answers with deliberate nonchalance before opting to take a seat on his tombstone, his lantern on the ground by the stone and his legs dangling in front of the name carved in the front. it's followed by a breath of a pause and there's a quick quirk of his lips. elden's answer doesn't tell him how he is, and as the king of avoidance— ] But hey, while I'm sure all of our graves could've been adorned with something a touch more personal, [ although honestly? peter's just glad this one doesn't also feature 'slain by kraven the hunter' like the last one had. ], that doesn't tell me how you're doing.

[ and unlike elden, peter — as a mature and responsible adult (haha) — is absolutely not shy about pointing out the fact. (and it takes the focus away from him.) ] Because listen, I've been there, done this, been given the t-shirt like, way more times than I'm really comfortable admitting to and—

[ a pause and peter holds his hands out as if to emphasise the "a n d". ] —It sucks. [ beat. ] So if you're not okay, that's okay.

[spitefullight]

[ He watches Spider sit atop the tombstone, squinting a bit at the other incredulously. He gets the feeling he knows exactly why they did it. After all, that epitaph is definitely covered by conveniently placed legs. He decides to say something. ]

I didn't look. [ He can at least respect the privacy now anyways.

Regardless, he just sighs a bit at the line of questioning. How was he feeling, he purses his lips a bit tighter. What was the point in lying anyways or refusing to answer or even the offer of help? He's already dealt with someone like that in his life before and it got tiring. The last thing he wanted to do was inflict that on someone else.]

Of course, I'm not okay. I can't imagine a single person who would be. [ He pulls his knees up closer to his chin resting his head on them. ]

Seeing how I died? Having that shoved in my face? It's like it's one big reminder that I failed. I was supposed to keep my friends alive and now I'm here.

[ His fingers tense a bit on his legs. He can't help but feel his throat squeezing on him as he thinks about everything that could be. ]
I know they have others that could do the job I did but...if they die there's worse things that could happen to them than ending up here.

( offering only. )

[sunborne]

[ peter will be receiving from daylight:

it's a large paper fower that he had made himself, intricate in its design and carefully made with the (supposed) appearance of the extinct ruffled posey in mind. the colour is a muted blue-grey, each petal of this flower clearly made with love and care.

if peter takes the time to look over this flower, he'll see that there seems to be something inside the pistil. it's a handwritten note, a gift within a gift it seems. huh. ]

[ ooc; now in the right place...! oh my gosh, sorry for the confusion. ]

[webshoots]

[ DAY WHY ARE YOU SO ADORABLE... ]

→ death

[webshoots]

[ there's dread in the pit of your stomach, cold and consuming, interspersed with frustration and anger; there's the realisation that they, the people you're here — in central park — with are going to die; the realisation that the people you're being hunted by are going to die and there's—

—not nothing you can do about it, because you've got to try, you've got to do something, but there's the sinking knowledge that you can't help everyone. you know this, you've always known this, but it doesn't mean you feel any better about it.

you head to the zoo — briefly, you recollect being here before, not all that long ago, thinking that that was it. that this was where you died. you hadn't then, and you won't know (you mustn't, you have to get home—).

the recollection's followed by the thought that of course he's here — you shouldn't have had to ask, there was only ever one place—

"KRAVEN", you shout. "this is what you wanted, isn't it, you psychopath? just me and—"

you've been in this situation before, with him, but you don't get chance to finish before there's another voice, one that, although you know it, it takes a moment to place; a flicker of confusion interrupts the anger for a moment, one word (name) on the tip of your tongue: arcade(?!) (the dread you've been feeling deepens a touch more as you acknowledge that black ant was telling the truth—)

"heya, spidey, long time, no kill." his face is an ugly purple projection in the sky, and under any other circumstances there'd be a joke, a quip that you'd spent a little more time thinking about than you'd care to acknowledge, but not this time. "you enjoying the park tonight? i'd love to get your feedback—we're constantly looking for ways to improve our methods of torture and—"

you interrupt; you don't want to deal with this right now. whilst you acknowledge that arcade's a threat, you're more interested in kraven, in ending this hunt. even then, even as he speaks, that feeling of dread seems to creep along your spine; soon, it's accompanied by a familiar tingling in your skull, one that spikes into a sharp shooting pain as the bushes around you rustle; as arcade says—

"but the reality is, it's just not a kraven-spidey-hunty thing without your old pal—"

you don't need to see him. the name escapes your lips before you've even had time to think about it (vermin), and you think back to then. the time kraven had—

(no.)

you swallow; ordinarily, you'd joke. you'd say something smart and obnoxious, something to distract yourself from how scared you are, but this time, there's nothing.

(well, okay, there's not nothing. there's vermin, except this time there's more than one. you fight; the thought that they don't stop (won't stop) occurs in between the punches and kicks; in between the lenses of your mask shattering; in between scratches and bites and bruises and blood and you know—

—they're not going to let you go. they're hungry and you're—

the word is there, at the edge of your thoughts. dead. you're going to die here, in central park. it hurts to move and to breathe and to think, and yet you think of her anyway. mary-jane. she's at home (you hope, even though you saw her, the empty floor, blood and there's a very real chance she's—

—no.)

but you're not going to make it back to her, and that thought hurts more than anything else.

(you're sorry and you love her—)

(even then, you hear his voice, see his shadow looming over you. you manage to croak out his name, a no, but beyond that—

—he picks you up. it hurts and yet manages to be peaceful all at the same time. there's white. there's warmth. emptiness. you've been here before—.)

→ town hall ( elsewhere & later )

[webshoots]

[ the first time he'd ended up in miles' world, he'd been confronted with everyone (apparently) not only knowing who peter parker was, but the idea that peter parker was dead. (and, you know, a black, way cooler nick fury—.) it had, for lack of a better word, been something.

he'd freaked out, basically.

before finding himself here, he'd found himself doing something a little shy of soul-searching: he'd got back together with mj, he'd apologised to some people he really needed to apologise to, been offered a second chance, offered some other people second chances and—

—it, too, had been something, but in an entirely different (and better) way than he'd ever hoped. he'd reconciled with felicia, told her—
—well, told her what he should never have taken away from her. his choices, his decisions didn't affect just him, and it felt like it was lesson he was still learning, despite everything.

it had involved a little less freaking out, in other words. a little more responsibility (oh, he's funny).

and then he'd found himself here, in beacon. constantly, at the back of his mind is the question of mj and of may, of whether they're okay; and now there was this. now, anyone could find out that peter parker was spider-man and the thought of that getting back home, back to mj and may and jonah and felicia and any of them makes him stomach twist; makes him feel sick in a way that he can't quite put into words because there's nothing he can do.

(except try to get home, but what if he's—.

—what if it's true?)

he avoids the invincible, he doesn't want to see anyone. instead, he stays in the suit (black, with a white spider on both his chest and his back) and sits on top of the church's roof. his mask is half pushed up, exposing his mouth and the bottom of his nose and nothing more. ]

—It gets stuffy, [ he'll say, if approached.

(he means the mask.) ]

[fogey]

[ five finds him by accident.

the rooftops are a good way to avoid people; so, great minds, maybe. the rooftops are also a good way to avoid the graves -- so it stands to reason that, sooner or later, five would teleport to the top of a structure, get away from the everything.

only to find...well, isn't that the question? peter benjamin parker. spider-man. sure answers a few questions, doesn't it, even as it raises others. ]

So why bother with it?

[ that was a benefit to the domino masks, he supposes. ]

[webshoots]

[ the problem with teleportation, is that you don't know it's coming: peter had thought he'd be able to see anyone approaching (or, see their lantern, at least), and he could choose whether to engage or not. five? five cheated.

which is to say: peter jumps slightly when five appears on the roof, and there's a twitch of his lips that's not quite displeasure, but—.

a breath. there's a thought, quickly, about how that question might not just be about his comment, but then peter reasons that there's a very good chance that five hasn't seen his grave — there were fifty others to pick and choose from, if one was so inclined, and they'd already met like this. (and it wouldn't be the first time someone had expressed a similar sentiment about the mask.) ]

It's a mask, [ he explains, with a sidelong glance at five; a quirk of amusement. ] It masks things. [ beat. ] My handsome face, for one; it's part of the look, for two — and believe me, I've thought about having a mouth-hole, [ he gestures incredibly vaguely at his face, ] but let's just say, I know a guy with that look and it's not a good one.

It's disturbing.

[fogey]

[ he can imagine, actually, that it'd probably look pretty weird. #yikes ]

Sure, [ he says, ] I get that. In life. But what's the point here? It's a small town, Parker.

[ and there it is. though after a beat, he says, ]

I'll give you this, I wouldn't have guessed.

1/3

[webshoots]

[ parker.

well, that sure did confirm the thing that he didn't want confirmed. ]

[webshoots]

[ peter winces.

he's aware that it might not make any logical sense — five's right, it's a small town and someone (several someones) were bound to find out eventually, but it's not about him, not really. ]

Okay, let me just run a hypothetical by you. [ a sharp glance towards five. ] Let's say you're a costumed superhero, let's say you've been doing this since you were fifteen. [ he holds up a finger, ] You've been shot at, hunted — more than once, by the way, and buried alive; you've been to alternate versions of Earth where you died as a teenager; you've met other versions of yourself including one that actually is made of spiders; you've had one of your closest enemies steal your body and— [ breath, you know what? that was a whole thing and traumatic and only slightly relevant here; he waves his hand dismissively, disinterestedly. ] —so this? Right here? This "being dead"? [ he does the finger quotation marks. you know the ones. even despite the fact that he's very obviously scowling beneath the mask. ] Not the weirdest or the most unlikely thing you've experienced. It's not even—

[ oh, the point, right. ] —Look, you might not get it. But those people? They're not going to stop just because Peter Parker is dead. If there's even a single chance that we're not dead and someone like that finds out? Someone that wouldn't rule out hurting the people you love just to get at you? Hypothetically, wouldn't you want to try and limit that as much as you can?

[ "AAAAAAAH." ]

[webshoots]

[THE BIGGEST SIGH. yes, okay he's done. ]

—Did you know it would do that? [ show you his death. did u know or was it an accident, five. ]

1/2

[fogey]

[ he actually does get it, though not from his superhero days.

how could he? all he has is his brothers and sisters, and nearly all of them had been superheroes with him. the umbrella academy had next to no attachments to anyone else; just vanya, just pogo, just their mom. reginald hargreeves doesn't count as an attachment.

the commission has files on everyone who's ever lived, of course. he's known about his since the handler first took him back to one of their offices. they know he was one of seven, of course. but he never, not once, talked about his brothers and sisters. he didn't speak their names, didn't mention any of the times they were on his mind, gave no reason for the handler or anyone else to believe he still cared about them when he hadn't seen them in decades.

and, see, it worked.

because hazel and cha-cha were given no mention of his siblings, found the academy by accident. and when they did he wasn't there, and his brothers and sisters had next to no information to give up. that wasn't by accident, not by a long shot. if the commission had had any real idea, they would've sent along the information to their operatives, suggested his brothers and sisters as a means of breaking him, bringing him back in.

(and it would've worked.)

so everything that peter says -- even the weird as shit stuff, because parker, what is your life -- makes sense. seems a bit illogical to him here, in this apparent land of the dead, but he gets it.

well not the meeting an alternate version of yourself made of spiders, because, what the fuck.

what he says is, ]

Caution isn't a bad thing. But we've got no evidence anyone can move between our old worlds and this one, yet. As far as I can tell, so far, this is a one-way trip. Even for the Lighthouse Keeper. Hypothetically, I'll start worrying about that when there's reason to.

[ this may or may not be true. thanks for sHARING THE PARANOIA, PETE. ]

But what you do is up to you. I don't care.

[fogey]

Does it matter? I'd know your secret, either way.

[identifier]

[ he likes high places. being in the air helped him think. being here is calming his mind more than cracking his eyes open trying to keep people out of his head. he doesn't expect anyone on the church roof. but he recognizes the guy there.

superhero type. not an emblem he knows, but there's only so many arachnid themed dudes out there. ]

You should invest in domino masks. [ take it from the original gangster. ]

[webshoots]

[ no, absolutely not, thank you. he turns his head to shoot dick a look (that's of course only partially visible) that's somewhere between perplexed and mildly offended, because—

—no. who does he think peter is? ms. marvel? ] —Thanks, but it's a little bit late for that — the mask's part of the look and the people'll be disappointed if I start mixing it up this late in the game. [ a beat. ] I thought about adding a vent for my mouth once, [ he adds, mildly. (that had been terrifying, even for him.) ] but let's just say that some looks are a classic for a reason. [ he'd also briefly thought about velcro for pockets, which is another way of saying his brilliant ideas for his suit pretty much peaked at the ripe old age of fifteen. ]

[identifier]

[ it relaxes him. just the expected banter. the shared experience. meeting dawn or hank. or hanging out with roy, wally, or donna. dick comes to a stop. he tucks his hands into his pockets. he's not had a chance to think a lot. he's not giving himself time to do that.

thinking would mean spiraling. he'd have to find a rooftop. and this one's occupied. ]

So what do you go by? Wait - Let me guess. The Human Spider. [ he even grins. ]

[webshoots]

[ human spider earns a huff of a laugh and peter waves a hand before: ] Close, but no cigar. [ beat. ] That was on the list, but it felt a bit too sci-fi b-movie, y'know? And I don't do the mutating into an arachnid nearly enough to be worthy of that title. [ is that him admitting he has done the 'turning into a spider' thing at least once? quite possibly it is, dick, quite possibly it is. ] So nah, I went with the shorter, yet oddly not as self-explanatory as I'd hoped, Spider-Man. [ a breath of a pause; side glance at dick and a quick quirk of a smile. ] And if you listen carefully enough, you can even hear the hyphen between the 'spider' and the 'man'.

→ wildcard

[webshoots]

( want somewhere or something else? go for it, i'm happy to go with peter accidentally triggering someone else's death at their grave via an offering before he realises what's what if you want to play out them both having seen each other's death/peter having seen their's. otherwise, if you want a more specific starter, lmk.

pm or hmu at ruffians if you want to discuss in depth. )