logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

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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[ Skyler doesn't say anything for a second. He, unfortunately, has had enough time to sort out the metaphysics of what Sora thinks happened to them, and he understands at least enough to get the gist of how they both kinda fucked up. How he, specifically, fucked up.

He is really struggling to care though. They're dead. They're dead. Consequences happened. What does it matter that being a better person would have saved his life if in the here and now - or, at least, as of three weeks ago - Sora had died with assault knives pincushioned in his back and nothing but regret in his heart? ]

Reincarnation. Soul shit. [ He rubs his face with his sleeve. Realistically, he probably should not be giving this motherfucker the blessed time of day, but honestly, this is the nicest conversation with a guy who wasn't trying to be his surrogate uncle in... years. Probably. He can spare some honesty. ] I started getting memories from him three years back. Started changing my body. Got powers. It was kind of cool, except for the bodysnatching part. He took over a year ago. [ ... A shrug. ] Got tired of fighting it. I gave up. Bitch move, I guess.

[This continues to be existentially terrifying. Great!

Will can't imagine himself ever making that decision, giving up in the face of being taken over by some other personality. He's nothing if not tenacious, and it's no secret that he values himself over anyone else. He thinks he'd fight tooth and nail and do every spiteful thing he possibly could. That's what he's done in the past.

But those were all threats from the outside. Those were all things he could fight. When the threat's in your own mind, what can you actually do?]

Are you aware? In there? I suppose not, if you're describing yourself as brain dead. So aside from right now, you're just... gone?

[So this kid's double-dead. Will takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. He runs a hand through his hair.]

I probably would've killed myself, to be perfectly honest. Before it got that far. [It's literally the only hypothetical situation in which he would, he thinks.]

If I have to die, I'm going to do it on my own terms. And I'm not going alone. So I guess at least you were kind enough to let one of you live.

[ Will's more or less got the gist of it. Skyler feels as though he's been living a life, but he has to go digging through Sora's memories if he wants the details. He didn't even have enough awareness to know he wasn't aware.

He doesn't want the memories of the past year, though. That's Sora's life, not his. Besides, that was what killed him, wasn't it? Becoming too Sora. Might as well step carefully around anything that might accidentally convince him to become a better person. Another Sora. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't, as far as he can tell.

Skyler's face doesn't move, but he does look off to the side. The stars are kinda nice to watch. ]

I was thinking about it a lot in the end. Got into a lot of fights hoping I wouldn't come back. Guess I was just chickenshit. He kept telling me that he didn't want this either, said that he'd found a way to fix it back when he was alive. [ He shrugs. ] Guess that makes me chickenshit and an idiot. [ For hoping at all. ]

I respect that. [ He looks over at Will again. No expression again, but he's quite serious. ] Fuck everyone but yourself. I shoulda leaned in as hard as you. Even if we ended up dead anyway.

[Will grunts, a noncommittal noise that could either be thoughtful or dismissive. He follows Skyler's gaze toward the stars, and he lingers there for a while. His mind goes a thousand different directions, and yet only one, all at once.

Staring up like this, with the unobstructed view over the lake taking up the whole scope of his vision, it almost feels like he could just reach out and brush his fingers against a window, the thick pane a relatively thin barrier between himself and the endless void. But then, he's not on a ship, he's on the surface. There's nothing barring him from the stars except for gravity.

It's disorienting. Feels like he could just push off from the ground and drift away.

He isn't sure how much time passes before he suddenly snaps out of it.]

I don't know which choice would've been the right one. Which one is the right one. Was it brave of me to take everyone else down with me? Was it brave for you to face what was happening and let it? Maybe we're both just cowards. Maybe there's strength in that, too.

[He shrugs.]

As long as you don't regret it, I guess that's all that matters.

[ Skyler's a creature of absolutes. If he had to be insufferable, let him be too acid to touch. If he had to be a coward, let him shove everyone away to save his life. If he had to be irredeemable, let him sink into hell for it.

If he thought he was right, that's just how it was. There was no one to tell him there were others to think about. No hearts in the stars to listen to, no worlds far from the shores of his home. No one left to protect. Not here, anyway.

It didn't matter. Not even his regret. It just didn't matter. None of it did. The universe was as absolute as he is.

He's not really sure how long he's been drifting, feeling the cold on every square inch of exposed skin one little bit at a time, before the rambling tethers him back to reality. ]

Bravery's got nothing to do with it, if you ask me. Or the right choice. My guy, I've never been right a day of my life. [ He was never smart enough for the right choice. Never brave enough, never wise enough. Good intentions only count if he'd ever thought about anything with intent at all. ] It's just respect. Commitment to the fucking vision.

[ Skyler had even fucked up his fall into depravity, in a way. Just couldn't stop wanting to like people and to be liked in return. It had made him soft. Skyler Veracruz, absolute fuck-up, couldn't even hate people the way he needed to.

Like now. Like this guy. The one who gave him the weed. Fuck this guy. ]

Anyway, what are you? Like, 35? 40? [ He cackles. ] Man, maybe he did get out while the going was good. If nothing was gonna get better for that long, might as well cut our losses and smoke weed in the dark with all the other fuckups in hell.

[Commitment, huh? Yeah, Will's committed to something: himself. Surviving at all costs because the universe doesn't want him to, and fuck that. Yeah, he knows the universe isn't a sentient thing with intentions, but what all the randomness of existence came down to was that he was meant to just be some nameless statistic, time and again. And quite frankly, he refuses.]

I'm... [He almost says 14, but no, that's not real, remember?] 32. [Will frowns.] 34 if you count this place. And what the hell is the rest of that supposed to mean? Perhaps you had a shitty life, but mine was going quite well, thanks. I'd much rather have continued than end up here.

Edited (wrong than/then I can't believe it I have to give up my english degree...) 2020-02-10 07:00 (UTC)

[ Funny how they came to be in the same space but arrived from two different vectors. Skyler likes to think he's like that, has worked his ass off to be out for number one only, but in the other direction: he'd much rather be nobody, but at home, where he's a big fish in a small pond rather than Chosen For A Greater Purpose. Man, his one goal in life was to be a statistic, and the universe, as random as it was supposed to be, ended up taking that from him too. Couldn't even be mediocre in peace.

So, like he said. Commitment. At least he succeeded in his own bitterness. Skyler went out with a whimper. ]

Trust me, bud, the way my world was going, I would've wanted the space dystopia option too. [ ... ] What's so good about space? Musta been like living in a shoebox if you were on a station.

Back in your time, maybe. Ships are much bigger in the future.

[Well. Depends on the ship.]

Truth be told, I don't know if it's any better than living on the ground. I only tried that once, and never intended to do it again. But space is what I know, so of course I prefer it.

[This place doesn't count. Anything's better than this place.

... Almost anything.]

But I suppose it's nice not being tied to any particular place. Nice not to have to go back to one spot all the time. And certainly nice not to be weighed down so goddamn much. I don't know how you people stand this.

[ Sticking with what you know. Skyler closes his eyes. He feels that. If what this guy knew was space, then what he knows is New Jersey, and how cold it got during the winter, and the shit public transit, and how the Atlantic roared, gray and forbidding, and how much you just hated when the Pats won every single fucking year. That's home. That is home. Not a warm beach, tropical waves, treehouses, the name of a yellow fruit he's forced to remember. It's... adjacent at best. It's certainly not anything he wanted.

He doesn't want this place either. It's just closer to what he would've wanted, had he imagined what hell would be like. ]

What, gravity? We pretend to escape it every single fucking chance we get. S'why we got roller coasters. Bungee jumping. Any excuse to forget we're stuck with each other. [ He didn't really take himself for a thrillseeker then or now, though. Skyler, despite himself, likes to play things safe. ] There's a place where I'm from - Ohio - that's so disgustingly flat and boring that most astronauts come from there. They're trying to get off the fucking planet. [ He tilts his head. ] Can't relate, but then again, I didn't really wanna die either.

Yes, gravity. And how wide everything is. You can't stand outside up there, you've always got walls. Maybe it's infinite behind them, but you always know they're there. Down here you're just... out all the time. Nothing has boundaries.

[He waves his hand toward the lake, indignant, and then suddenly seems to remember what Skyler was actually talking about.]

Gravity. Yes, you all envy the birds. But you were born stuck to the ground, you're built for it. You don't have to think about it all the time. Maybe you don't want to be here, but you don't feel it.

[He's rambling, and some of it's not entirely coherent, but it's not like he notices.]

[ ... Man, this guy's kinda gone, isn't he? Skyler will make a gesture for the blunt. Less of that for you, more for him. Maybe that'll make this conversation make more sense. ]

Floating. You miss floating. [ That's what he's getting from the ramble. ] You miss floating in a box. 'Cause the box is safe. [ He thinks about it. ] And me with my feet on the ground is safe. Knowing that I can't just float up into the deep dark whatever the fuck because I know the planet's too big to let me down. Gravity's got my fuckin' back. [ He pauses, then snickers. ] I mean, I can fly now, and that's kinda cool. I'd trade it for the bodysnatcher though. Definitely not for a box.

Edited (christ almighty i fucked up everything) 2020-02-15 19:53 (UTC)

No, not floating. We'd die after a few years of that. Your insides can't take it. They'll start to break down.

[And apparently he's forgotten to explain what the alternative is.]

And it's not a box. At least the good ones aren't. I'd rather have a bodysnatcher than go back to the box.

[He... also neglects to explain whatever the fuck any of that means.]

[ Skyler will.. roll his eyes. The things he'll do for a coherent conversation. He turns physically to this guy. ]

Blunt. Now. If we're gonna have this conversation, we're gonna be equally high for it. [ Staring him in the face. May snap his fingers if he needs to grab his attention. ] Why would my insides go to shit in zero-g? And what the fuck kinda box are you talking about?

[Will makes a face when Skyler snaps his fingers at him. Chill out, bro. You're harshing his vibe.

He hands the blunt over, though.]

Your muscles and bones break down. Your body can't regulate blood pressure, because the liquid inside of you is in free fall. Ruins your sense of balance. Damages your eyes.

[Maybe there's more, but he can't think of it. He can barely concentrate on what the other question was.]

You know, the boxes. [Very helpful.] The colonies. Less room for people means more room for machinery. More production. Whole families living in goddamn closets.

[ Weirdly enough, the stuff about the muscle and bone deterioration actually makes enough sense for Skyler to follow the rest of the explanation. Hey, you don't get double varsity without learning about how muscle mass works.

Anyway, that's fucked up. He shakes his head. He'd like to stay on Earth, thank you, where gravity regulates his insides without him having to think about whether his blood's in the right place or not. And apparently where he doesn't have to worry about whether his family will get stuffed into a box, holy shit.

He sucks in a pretty sizable hit, then stares at the end of the thing. This little guy has been as dank as hell, but they're really going through it, aren't they? He takes one last little puff and hands it back, just breathing it in and out. Host gets last dibs. Again, he's not a caveman. ]

We live in houses in America. [ He pauses. Not technically, 100% true, but not on the scale of a colony of tiny boxes. ] That bad, huh? So, what's better? Infinite, uh, this. [ He points out into the darkness. Spaaaaace. ] Or a box where you know your shit won't go floating off wherever? [ ... ] I probably would have said the box, but a year's long enough.

Edited (icon) 2020-02-25 18:22 (UTC)

A year? Try fourteen.

[He's only sort of lost track of what he's responding to. Just a little. He reaches for the last remnant of the joint. As he finishes it off, he wonders how many he's already gone through. And how many he'll end up going through before this bullshit is over.]

Given the choice, I'll always pick that.

[He makes a really vague gesture toward the sky.]

That's home. Not some... place.

[God he is so fucking blasted.]

Fourteen years in a box. I'd go batshit. [ ... He doesn't know much about this guy, but it's enough to get the feeling that it explains a lot about the neurotic mess he's talking to right now. ] Well, congrats for getting out, I guess.

How long have you been here? [ He turns to the other guy, eyes studying him and the dock around them. Did this guy clean up somehow or did he leave them all over the floor? ] Both here and here. I guess.

[Maybe he did go a little batshit. Maybe they all did. There aren't a whole lot of other ways to explain what happened, are there?]

Here? [It still takes him a second, even with the clarification. This thought train is struggling to reach the station.] Almost two years, I think. And... god, I don't know. I can't keep track.

[He shakes his head dismissively. Skyler won't find any remnants lying around, but not because Will has been a responsible citizen. He's just been tossing them into the lake, my dude.]

[ Will finally answering the age old question: Can the lake monsters partake of that sweet, sweet ganj? A true scientist.

Anyway, Skyler will watch his dealer finish off the little twist of paper impassively, caught in the globe of the appropriately green mood lighting. ]

Two years. [ Skyler’s pretty sure that that’s supposed to be impossible, but he really only skimmed that part of Sora’s memories, and Sora himself has only a vague understanding of the reset process. So, whatever, sure, two years. ] That's fucked up.

[ ... Nope. Nope. Nope, he is not doing that thing where he ends up feeling sorry for whoever he's toking up with and tries to call them an Uber or something. (There is no Uber here, he knows, hush.) That has never, ever, ever, ever ended well, and also he's dead and has no social obligations to take care of his fellow man. He has only had perhaps a fraction of a fuck to give about anyone but himself and his own anyway. He's just going to leave this guy as high as a kite and frozen to this pier and he's going to go to wherever the hell Sora lives and knock himself the hell out with booze probably. That's an excellent idea. ]

I don't know if you've noticed, but you're deep fried. Go back to your dead person home before you float back up to your mothership, E.T.

[ ... It's a suggestion, okay. ]

Edited (skyler: im gonna WRECK IT) 2020-03-02 16:57 (UTC)

Yes, it very much is.

[Time to add more of the devil's lettuce to the lake. Will flicks the last remains of the joint into the water.]

E.T.? What's that supposed to mean?

[Maybe if he wasn't off his shits he'd be able to make the connection, but not right now. He slowly seems to comprehend that he was told to do something. And while normally he'd refuse out of spite, because who are you to tell him what to do, this time he can't really argue.]

Mm. Yeah. I did notice.

[He grabs his lantern and struggles to his feet. He turns away, then turns back, looking as if he might be about to say something. Then he frowns, like he forgot whatever it was. Eh, it's fine, he'll just say it later. He hasn't yet realized that he might never get the chance.]

Extraterrarium or something.

[ Skyler looks at his dealer blankly as he totters off, and when he turns back... Without changing his expression, he lifts a hand and flicks him off. Like, in a friendly sort of fuck you way. ]

Get moving, space case. I want some me time.

[ And he does. Always did. He doesn't need a weedsicle for that. ]

[The word Extraterrarium makes him laugh for unknown reasons, but Will doesn't linger. He probably needs some me time too, if by "me time" you mean "sleeping off a considerable high".

He wanders off into the dark, and probably makes it home without tripping in more ways than one. Probably.]

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EVENT LOG: TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

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