logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: january 20-29.
content: the lanterns begin to malfunction.
warnings: body horror and psychological horror. please cw tags appropriately.

you'll become one

January 20th arrives the same as all the days before it. There's no great pulse of warning that throbs through the air, no ominous wind that causes the bonfire to shudder. The spirits are neither agitated nor do they hide. You could almost miss the change, if the lanterns weren't always by your side. There's no explanation that comes with the way that it's changed, but it's impossible not to worry when it's happened so suddenly.

Maybe it takes a few days, or maybe it only takes a few hours, but suddenly it isn't just the lanterns that have changed. You, yourself, have become somehow different. It's possible that you won't even have the right state of mind to wonder how long it will last. At the very least, it appears you aren't alone. All across Beacon, lanterns are changing, and changing the people with them.

Out in the distance, the lighthouse's beam has turned green.

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"Up"

Ashford will be hard to recognize now, a quarter of his body now covered in bony growths akin to spikes. Its made his right arm useless, prevents him from turning his head, and means he walks stiffly with labored breaths. And yet he insists on moving if only to prevent himself from giving in to the want to simply lay down and never raise again.

He gives a firm tug with his left hand at Stone's arm, insistent that he stand off the snow.

"You will freeze."

The growths have made speech more difficult as well, the growths paralyzing part of his lip, so his words sound less defined and slur together.

"Raksura handle the cold better than groundlings," Stone says, but he does climb to his feet. His bare feet, because Raksura don't wear shoes. Raksura don't normally live in areas with lots of snow, though, being something of a jungle species most of the time, and so his toes are kind of cold.

He pauses, squints in Ashford's direction, then snakes the tip of his tongue out to taste the air, and with it Ashford's scent. "You smell terrible. Are you all right?"

He's had worse things said to him in the past few days. He grunts in acknowledge, a sound filled with exhaustion. "I'm afraid not, Beratna."

With his working hand he claps Stone on the shoulder.

"You look betta'than some. But worse than yourself."

"You should've seen me a couple days ago, would've really given you a fright," Stone snorts. Though given a lot of people have reacted surprisingly well to having a Fell ruler in their midst, maybe not. He might just have been curious.

Speaking of curious, while Stone tilts his head to try and get a better look at what's going on with his friend, he asks, "What does 'beratna' mean?"

"Belter word.... brother. Friend."

He huffs a weak laugh.

"Now I am sorry to have missed th'show."

"Oh. Huh. I'll remember that. Beratna." It's good to have friends. He gives Ashford's shoulder a little pat. "It wasn't that special, my usual big form is a lot more impressive. But I did have to prowl around being you-sized and still having wings and a tail."

It would have been nice, actually, if it hadn't been a Fell form. Having to look like your mortal enemy wasn't particularly entertaining.

"So how long have you been like this?"

"I think days. Started slow. Then faster, faster. Then overtook me."

His bad arm jerks slightly as he tries to lift it to gesture, still occasionally forgetting that it is useless, the hand only slightly swings at the knee before dropping to his side again. Frustrated he reaches up his good hand, rubbing it over the still normal half of his face.

Ashford then lets out a long, low breath, resignation, not speaking for a moment.

"What is it like?" He has to shift his whole body to look into Stone's eyes. "To fly without machines?"

"Freeing," Stone answers readily, though the question comes kind of out of nowhere. He's flown on flying boats and such before, so he can at least guess what Ashford is comparing to. "I can show you, if you want. It's not the same as flying on your own, but I can carry people, and I'm told it's pretty exciting." Also terrifying to some people, and uncomfortable if he does it for too long, but it'd be a short flight so as to keep that to a minimum.

Klaes considers it a minute before nodding, half smiling with the part of his mouth he can still move. "That I would like." He then uses his left hand to tap on his right shoulder. "If this does not kill me before we get the chance."

He's not really joking but he tries to keep the tone light. He's never been one for feeling sorry for himself.

"Would it be hard? To carry my weight?"

Stone leans over, looking for Ashford's lantern, keeping one hand in his shoulder for balance, and nods at the lantern's colors. "It won't kill you. It'll probably go away in a couple more days. Mine did." Then he steps back, takes a moment to make sure he's steady and nothing is moving too quickly, and shifts up into his winged form-- which is thankfully back to normal, too, all spines and translucent scales over colorless flesh.

He crouches, and holds out both hands, fingers laced together to make a seat. There's probably room for Ashford to actually lay down and curl up there, should he wish to. Sitting will be easy. Something this size shouldn't have any trouble with the man's weight.

EVENT LOG: TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

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