EVENT LOG: TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

[inthenightmods]

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.

QUICKNAV
comms	|	network • logs • memes • ooc
pages	|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Comments

[donttalktome]

[Sure he could grab another weapon, but most of them are too large and unwieldy for someone his size and stature to use effectively. So, you're mostly safe, Ros.]

Beacon. [That doesn't entirely seem to calm him down.] When was the last reset?

[He's been here a long time, he thinks. Maybe. But how long? Is everyone trying to kill each other? Are the spirits trying to kill them?]

They're— they were— No, it's not important. We're in Beacon. [He shakes his head.] That's not happening right now.

[originallutece]

At least six months ago. That was when we arrived-- when you greeted us.

[She crosses her arms over her chest.]

How many have you been through?

[donttalktome]

Six months. That means this is— It's now. Right now.

[Because that makes sense and is not concerning at all.]

One. No. Three. [He shakes his head.] Those weren't resets. They were just people, not spirits.

[He pauses to try and control his breath a bit.]

I can't... I can't keep the time straight. Everything's happening at once. All of it. I know things, I remember things, and then I don't know how I learned it. I know the future because I've already lived it except I haven't. Do you understand what I'm trying to communicate here?

[originallutece]

Yes.

[Of course she does. Mental distortion thanks to dimensional disconnect is something she's intimately acquainted with, as he'd know if he ever read her books, but, whatever, choices.]

Sit, before you end up giving yourself hemorrhage. Focus on what facts you do know. Your name. Your origin.

[donttalktome]

[Yeah, he'll probably never read those books, if only out of pettiness.]

How would I give myself— [No, you know what, who cares. He could definitely use a sit-down. As there aren't a lot of chairs in the weapons shop, he just sort of hops up on the counter.

And then lays down on it. He folds his hands on his stomach.]

Right. Name. Will Ingram. I've never gone by William. I'm not from anywhere, not the way you people understand it.

[Very helpful.]

[originallutece]

You'd be surprised.

[She says it dourly. There's something about him that drives her to pettiness, but she sighs after a moment.]

You must have some place you called home once. What was it called?

[donttalktome]

Home? That's such a... such a... [He gestures aimlessly while he tries to come up with the words.] That's such a planetary concept. It's not like I came from a town, or a city. A place on a map. I don't have a permanent residence, that's not how we operate out there.

[And no, he will not attempt to explain any of this, apparently.]

I just go where the next job is. Do you want me to list the names of ships? Or is it where I spent the longest time? Or where I was born?

[He falls silent for a moment, and his hands go still.]

I was born somewhere, I guess. It doesn't really have a name, it's just a mining colony. We don't— we didn't call it anything but "here".