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.

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Comments

[shadowsran]

Admittedly, she does lose the plot a little. But it's workable information, and likely the kind of thing that will refine on its own in time. No rush, as she said earlier. It will be accepted as it comes. Something approaching a name is good.

Bucky is too novel anyway.

"Close enough is good enough, definitely. Soldat through and through. Besides them, any other developments?"

[worthallthis]

Sergeant, Asset, Soldat. Apology. Note. Hot chocolate. Weeping over her note (not actually part of the plan). What else? (Handler. Oh, right. ... thank you, Asset. No. Asshole. No.) They set the cocoa aside. "I need to check your hand. It's my turn. Have you been using it?"

[shadowsran]

"Your turn?" She wasn't aware there were rotating hand checks; it's likely not the case, but it opens up room for an explanation. The hand is offered as requested, regardless. He'll notice it's at least three days beyond the state of repair it ought to be in.

"I keep trying to, but it's just muscle memory. Nothing real, the stinging's pretty good about reminding me."

[worthallthis]

"To take care of you. You made me lunch." Even if they kind of. Threw it up shortly after, on their way back to Aziraphale and Crowley's cabin. (Maybe don't tell her that. Yeah, let's not.) "And then made me cry." That's meant (mostly) as a joke.

They pick the bandage apart to check the swelling, the stitches, and the redness. Less of the first and last than anticipated. "This is healing quickly. Are you using magic on it?" If she's going to keep doing that, it might be time to get the stitches out.

[shadowsran]

"Crying didn't happen if I didn't see it," she notes, conspiratorially. "And there was no looking at that-you and not feeding him, you know. Can't help but be easy to care about all the time, can you?"

There's a shift, something approaching sheepishness crawling across her face. It's...nerve wracking, to have it acknowledged. "Don't know why I wouldn't, can't be burdening anybody. Hands're important."

[worthallthis]

Just going to acknowledge the first with a little snort and an eyeroll, and move on. She saw it. Brat. (Best brat. Well, yeah.)

"As long as the magic doesn't hurt you. But if you're going to speed it up again, I need to take the stitches out before you do more." Otherwise she's going to have them forever, or else taking them out will make things worse, and nobody wants either one of those things. "It will need more ice and a clean bandage after."

[shadowsran]

Softy.

"Exact opposite." Not that she's thrilled at the prospect of stitch removal, but understands well enough the necessity. "Do what you've got to do, I'll manage. Nearly out of the woods."

[worthallthis]

Yep. You know their secret, Misty. They are a huge fucking softy.

Not that they really try to hide it much.

Soldat lets her have her hand back long enough to have a little more cocoa, and to get out their little roll of arm-maintenance tools, which includes a very tiny set of scissors (for when things get caught inside, like thread or, uh, hair attached to bits of flesh or something). Also good for stitches, since none of their knives are really small enough. "Come into the kitchen. We can wash it once the stitches come out, then rebandage."

[shadowsran]

The drink isn't bracing enough, but she takes a sip, sighs, and reminds herself she's had much worse. It'll be brief.

"I appreciate the help. Probably obvious, but I should still say it."

Love you and all, Soldat. It's nice having a nurse.

[worthallthis]

"I appreciate that you let me help. Not everyone does. Or they do with lots of grumbling." They head over to the kitchen, bringing their own cocoa, and once Misty is leaning against the counter by the sink, gets to work. As promised, it's quick and careful with no wasted movement whatsoever, and then dipped under cold water to wash away welling blood.

At which point, probably with bad timing, but still feeling a bit confessional... they say, "I know why I designated you handler. At the very beginning. Before I even knew you'd be a good one." They focus on her hand while they speak. She knows about the Sergeant, and now the Asset; she really should know about memory malfunctions, and the one single lie-by-omission they have between them. "It was my first memory malfunction. I had a handler once who looked like you."

[shadowsran]

"You're good at it, and it's - nice, I mean, people should let you have at it." It's not a source of burning pride, but it's good. Rewarding. There's a wince, and then another at the water, but she otherwise endures without complaint.

Then a blink.

The first thing that crosses her mind is, in fact, disappointment he'll have doubtlessly unpleasant memories associated with her face. The second is, like hell she'll be the understudy even in memory.

"How long did it take for it to click that I wasn't her?" She asks. "Or was it just looking for familiarity at all, that was the point of it?" No upset, but curiosity.

[worthallthis]

"During the hallucinations. I saw her once, in one of them." Which was months ago, now, they know. They let her hand rinse for a minute, still focused on it, before letting her pull her hand back out and dry it off before they put on a fresh bandage. "Might have worked it out sooner, but I did want something to be normal very badly."

And as they wrap her hand up again, they add quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to. Decide that meant you couldn't be my handler here, anymore." And now she has that choice, if it's what she wants. They'll… manage, whatever she decides.

[shadowsran]

"Do you still need something to be normal?" There are other handlers, she knows, but that doesn't necessarily mean she trusts them worth....even a single damn. If nothing else, it's a position she can occupy without significant risk to him. Still nothing she asked for. At a glance, she seems ponderous.

"I never decided to, you know. You picked me out, no matter the reason. Unless this is all that's kept you around, I don't imagine it would be that different. Do you still need them?" Because it's his choice. She'd considered asking, before, but it should be his choice. He deserves more choice.

[worthallthis]

For all the progress Misty says she sees, for all the difference they feel between themselves and the Asset now muttering around in their head, the thought of being without handlers makes them pause in the bandage-wrapping and shudder. Shut their eyes briefly and feel the plates on the metal arm ripple against fear and an unexpected sense of loss. "Yes." The definition of normal has changed from what it used to be, but that piece of programming still remains.

[shadowsran]

As before, so reversed. She squeezes his flesh wrist, just the once, buffer-smile at the ready. "I'll be whatever's best for you, however long that's the case. It's your call. Keep me on hand as long or as briefly as you like, I'm not going anywhere either way."

[worthallthis]

"Neither am I." That much is clear. Handler or not (Handler, definitely. If that's what you want, pal. Yes. Glad you both agree.) they're not going anywhere. They turn their wrist in her grasp so they can return the favor with a hand around her wrist, too, then free themselves to finish wrapping her hand, tightening the bandage more securely.

They're relieved, if feeling weirdly weepy again, and they have to wipe their eyes one more time before tying off the bandage. "Thank you." Maybe it's just the exhaustion of the day making everything seem more. And it has been a long day.

[shadowsran]

It takes actual honest effort to suppress an aw, or a coo, and allow the clasped forearms to represent the fullest expression of this sentiment they'd both be able to manage. It's a close call, but she manages. Nothing but a warmer smile, for the reaction.

"It's never any problem, honest. You could spend the night, you know - I'd hate sending you out into the cold after all this, however quick the walk. Spare's still got all your blankets from the last time." Laundered even. Ever ready for hosting.

[worthallthis]

Thank fuck she offered; saves them having to ask. "Aziraphale is still gone," they admit. "And Crowley. Is still sleeping. And." They don't want to go back to a quiet, empty house. Besides, Sora might still be there, and they might care a lot about that kid, but they absolutely need a break from him right now. He's kind and good and broken and exhausting in a way Misty can never be.

All of which makes the decision easy. "I'll stay here. I think I need sleep." Why else would they keep fucking crying at everything, right?

[shadowsran]

Understanding immediately the exact point he's dodging, she nods, glad it'll be beneficial to them both. Out loud confirmation nets a grin, and a deeply sympathetic laugh. "We both do. Everyone must, this week has been--" impossible to describe short of a rant, so she settles for an easing sigh, "Lot of sleep. Big breakfast. Nothing weird for at least a month, just...I don't know, reading, board games, music." Personal growth and forced sharing is just fine in concentrated doses, thankyouverymuch.

"You can head up now if you want, I'm just gonna grab a pain killer for this and clean up. Folding laundry kind of fell by the wayside. Won't be missing anything."

[worthallthis]

"Solitaire and poker," Soldat says absently, rubbing both eyes now, more out of tiredness than weepiness, this time. "I remembered those. We'll get some cards." Boredom dispelling activities, without any particular memory attached except for the certainty that Steve fucking cheats at cards, that they haven't had a chance to attempt to do much with yet. They will. There's time.

They ought to stay and help clean up the cocoa, but she gave them permission to withdraw, so… they're going to do that. Before something else happens. So on that note about cards, they retreat to the living room to collect their lantern and start climbing the stairs. Maybe a bit more slowly than usual, but it's allowed after today.