In the Night Moderators (
inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-07-12 01:00 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- billy russo (laws),
- coraline li (jejune),
- daylight vis lornlit (melly),
- dick grayson (jin),
- hanzo hasashi (abel),
- irwin wade (lauren),
- javert (rachel),
- jo harvelle (dee),
- jon snow (rachel),
- kuai liang (sydney),
- m.k. (shira),
- melisandre (mina),
- nathan drake (alex),
- number five (z),
- peter parker (laura),
- rafe adler (sammo),
- raylan givens (bobby),
- riku (dubsey),
- rosinante donquixote (lauren),
- shadow moon (kas),
- will ingram (leu),
- zihuan cao pi (gemini)
EVENT LOG: GRAVES

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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[ Vanitas grins, then, but there's no joy in it. It's mean and hungry, and he shoves her back away from him. She's small, and he's stronger than he looks. When he gets the space, he takes another step toward her grave again— taunting her. ]
I don't think you're trying very hard, Mary. I thought you wanted to stop me from seeing what's in here?
[ He raises his hand and points at the memorial. It would be easy to knock her out, but he wants to know, now— will she really try and hurt him? Or maybe she doesn't have the stomach, despite that manic look on her face? ]
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Stop it! I said no!
[The girl barrels forward, halfway between crying and screaming as she thrusts her knife forward at him, again and again and again and again. She won't stop, no, she can't stop. Not until she hits him! Not until he's gone! Not until he's covered in pretty, pretty red colors! Even if she did hit him, though, would she notice? Would Mary even have the control to relish any sort of victory from this?
This isn't fun anymore.]
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The problem is that there is no rhyme or reason to the violence of her onslaught, and Vanitas isn't treating the fight with any level of seriousness. The blade glances harmlessly off his breastplate a few times, and it makes him laugh time and again— until he isn't laughing anymore.
Maybe it's accidental, maybe she aimed for it— he doesn't know, but the palette knife slips into the space between his armor and the fabric. It drives in deep, right up to the hilt in her enthusiasm, and Vanitas huffs out a startled: ] —Unf.
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That's better.
[In that stillness that accompanies his shock, Mary twists the knife.]
cw: violence against children
You little—
[ Vanitas grabs her by the throat, the whole width of his palm fitting around her neck, fingers pinching into the tendons. He squeezes when he lifts her clean up off the ground, high enough that he needs to lift his head to keep looking into her face. The pull of his mouth is so vicious that it doesn't even resemble as smile anymore, and he holds her there— strangling the breath from her lungs with the vice of his fist. ]
Not bad. I was starting to think you didn't have it in you.
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She stares at him with her blue eyes as big as plates, the quiet let me go clear in her fright. Feeling more than anything like an animal caught in a trap, there isn't a shred of logic she can think of to scrape together. Just scratch and bite and kick--and it all seems to reach nothing but air.]
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but then, if rumour was true she'd just come back. And besides, what fun was there in finding out her secret if she wasn't around for Vanitas to lord it over her? He tightens his grip, waiting for her to pass out. ]
Let's play again sometime.
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Right. This is just a game, isn't it?
Her limbs go slack as everything goes dark.]
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As he pulls the knife out, blood comes with it. It's not the first time he's seen his own blood, and probably won't be the last, but he tosses the blade down next to her body with a clatter and presses his palm against the wound to cycle darkness back into his body and stitch it up.
When he finally leaves the gravesite, satisfied with his discovery, the only other thing left behind is a little inconspicuous rock in front of her shrine. ]
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not death.
but not life after death, either.
then, wanda sees the crumpled form of little mary (the network nine year old who curses, the wandering sprite), and the life force is so frail and web-like wanda gasps aloud as she reaches for her. she's down on her knees, covering the child like a shield, and her hands go around mary's head — fingers threading into her hair.
bending near her nose and mouth, she can't feel breath, no exhalation.
she could waste time with CPR attempts, or she could focus her energy on the tiniest psionic pulse—
—to mary's mind, to her lungs, light as a feather... ]
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Mary, mary... [ she hushes in her warm, accented tones, releasing a pulse of calm between the two of them, nothing very invasive (but oh, does she reel with flashes of mary's thoughts, the flashes of fear and rage and vanitas), ] ...Mary, it's alright now. You are safe with me. I am Wanda. You are safe with Wanda.
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[As she cries, Mary touches her face, her neck, looking around wildly. For a moment, she's more like an animal than a child, but then she calms, mostly due to the influence that the woman uses to soothe her.]
Everything went dark.
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she'd caught the bruises in the dim lantern light. already dark, purplish, angry. how the child's neck hadn't snapped in two is a wonder to her. ]
Safe with Wanda, [ she repeats in a soft murmur, rocking the girl very slowly. ] I saw the darkness. But it's gone now, Mary. You are safe with Wanda.
[ she evens out her breathing, pressing her chest up against the little girl's rib cage. ]
You can breathe with Wanda, yes? [ a confident whisper in her ear, coaxing, calm. ] In... and out...
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Owie...ouch...I don't like this. How mean, mean to me, poor Mary.
[It's hard to say if she's talking to herself or Wanda, her disjointed thoughts miserable and confused. In truth, the girl isn't quite so sure what she's feeling. Pain isn't altogether foreign, exactly. She's died, after all. But this is different, somehow. It lingers.]
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I know, Mary. It was mean. I know it hurts. It will get better — just take slow, calm breaths.
[ she leans back just a little, wipes mary's eyes and cheeks, even her nose, with her sleeves. ]
Do you want Wanda to take you home? Home to your room?
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[The offer, as gentle as it is, causes her to sit up in a panic.]
I can't go! I have to stay here!
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Why is that, Mary?
[ she's already had an onslaught of memories of the fight, and she does her best to let the child speak for herself. ]
I wish to get ice for your bruises, your neck that hurts, and keep you safe.
[ wanda glances at the memorial marker. ]
Are you afraid to leave it? The grave?
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I have to keep it safe. I have to keep my secret safe.
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I understand. Secrets are important, sometimes, as long as they do not hurt anyone.
[ she places her fingers lightly under mary's chin, just a feather touch. ]
What if I take you to your room, then I come back and guard it for you? Would that be alright with you, Mary?
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He saw it! He saw it...he saw! He saw! He'll tell on me!
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wanda knows exactly how that feels.
her hand is warm and protective over mary's much smaller one, and the weapon beneath it. ]
His name is Vanitas. I know him. I will make sure he keeps your secret.
[ wanda tilts her head down, to make sure to catch mary's eyes, keep them steady. ]
But you must not play with him again. Understood? Not safe.
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You promise?
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I cannot be everywhere at all times. I know Mary understands that because I am not a god. Wanda died like Mary died. Yes?
[ wanda pulls their clasped hands into the center of their embrace, the child still shielded in her lap. ]
But if I see Vanitas try to harm you, or tell on you, I will stop him. I promise.
[ she leans forward and presses a kiss to the top of mary's forehead. ]
I am going to speak with him about the way he played with you. It was wrong.
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You gave me a kiss!
[It hits her suddenly after a moment--not just the way Wanda's speaking, but the way she's acting, the way she's holding her so gently, like she's something precious.]
That's never happened before.
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