EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
THE NIGHT WE MET

characters: everyone.
location: the path from downtown beacon to the harbor; all over town.
date/time: february 16-21.
content: the forest spirits send off their friends to join the aurora. memory opals drop from the eerie green lights above.
warnings: n/a.

i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

For most of the day on February 16, all of the town's forest spirits can be found along the stretch of road between downtown and the harbor, clearly setting up for, uh, something. They're piling snow onto the pathway, creating a miles long sled trail that starts outside the Landmark Inn and ends at the very end of the harbor's dock. Not only that, but the forest spirits are also not super willing to explain what they're up to! They're busy, you lantern-havers.

By the time evening rolls around, the spirits have set up wooden railings alongside the snowy path, as well as a warming tent, hot chocolate booth, and announcer stand outside of the Landmark. Oh, and a starting banner for the race! It's dogsled time!

Throughout the event, Beacon's downtown and harbor areas will be completely overrun with forest spirits, all there to bear witness to this holiday celebration—this holiday is for them, though, not you weirdos with your naked faces. Point is, none of the spirits will be hostile at this time! They're more interested in interacting with each other than with Beacon's residents, though if pressed, a kind spirit might be willing to explain what's going on:

The aurora arrives in Beacon for about a week each year, and the forest spirits believe it to be "friends in the sky". The lights are old friends of theirs, it seems! And each night while the aurora shines above the town, the forest spirits send off a handful of friends to join the aurora! The spirits ready to join the aurora build sleds of their own and assemble mighty sled teams, sometimes comprised of dog spirits and sometimes... other stuff. Then, when the aurora is at its peak in the wee hours of the night, the sled teams will ride off one by one, racing down the snow-covered path all the way down to the harbor, where they'll finally rocket off the dock and out over the lake, picking up more and more speed as each team gallops wildly over the water before arcing up into the sky. Once the spirits are barely a speck, they'll hit the aurora and burst into a shower of light. Beautiful stuff!

See, since the aurora is made of light, forest spirits launched into it are killed on impact! Isn't that wonderful! The forest spirits seem to think so! What is death to a dead thing!

All of this information can be learned through handwaved/played-led interactions with the forest spirits during the event. They'll all be focused on saying goodbye to their friends and cheering them on as they stream through the sky, but they're happy to welcome lantern-havers to join in the celebrations. The hot chocolate is free and only tastes a little bit like mud, so. Enjoy!

•••
For the entire duration of the event, the aurora will dance in beautiful silence overhead, lighting up the whole town with its eerie green glow. Every so often, handfuls of opals will rain down like meteorites from the lights above, and these opals each contain the memory of someone currently in Beacon! They can be found all over town, landing on paths and atop buildings and maybe even rocketing straight through your ceiling to crash into your living room. Perhaps a forest spirit decided to hide some shiny rocks in your cereal box or under your pillow... Better hope the Postmaster General doesn't find your opals before you do, though. That spirits sure does love their rocks. Point is, who knows where the opals might turn up?

On that note, if you signed up for a random event, we'll be RNGing characters to receive these random events throughout the event! The event may happen in response to a toplevel on this event log, or we might turn up in your IC inbox... 👀 These events will be entirely random, meaning we could dole out any number of them at any time, so it'll be a fun surprise for all of us.

If you missed signups and would still like to toss your name in the ring, go right ahead! Signups will remain open throughout the event, though we can't promise everyone who signs up will get something.

And finally... Each day, we'll post a list of the forest spirits joining the aurora! What, did you want to know in advance? The forest spirits have never been a particularly organized bunch, so they're winging this—which means more surprises for you. :)

Enjoy the races and the lights and the opals, residents of Beacon, and remember: WHAT IS DEATH TO A DEAD THING!

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a son and an heir.

[cained]

( dean understands how invasive these damn rocks are turning out to be (no one in their right mind would want to see inside dean's memories, and he damn well doesn't want to share, especially when there are things he's neglected to tell his brother that could be trapped inside one of these things), so when he finds one of bruce's inside the hood of a car while looking for parts, he decides he should probably find the kid himself so no one else happens across it.

of course, he's learned a few things that he won't bring up out of respect for the kid's privacy (gotham and bruce in the same sentence lead to obvious conclusions, though the rational part of dean is hesitant to believe it's anything more than coincidence; beyond that, there's an anger in that memory that dean knows far too well), but the main thing dean can't quite get over is how young he is. even if he's not some version of who dean thinks he might be, he barely looks out of his teens. then again, dean could just be a terrible judge of age (everyone under twenty-five looks like a kid to him now); it doesn't help that half the people he knows (you know, ageless angels and immortal witches) don't look their actual age.

it's not easy tracking bruce down, but dean eventually spots him (and gets the distinct feeling that he might never have found him if the aurora wasn't lighting the whole place up). dean's in his normal attire of plaid and denim, but there are noticeable grease stains on his hands and arms where his sleeves have been rolled up. )

Bruce? ( god, this is weird. he holds out the opal. ) Pretty sure this belongs to you.

Owl Friend ;.;

[worthallthis]

Seeing unfamiliar or even semi-familiar spirits choosing to go do whatever this is, to die as it seems, is one thing, and Soldat can handle it. It's weird and kind of unpleasant, but they can handle it.

Seeing their actual friend, a spirit they care for very much and share coffee and head-scritches with at least once a week and usually more, starts up so many sirens in their head. They plow through the crowd of spectator spirits and Beaconites alike, their brain just one big pounding NO, to get to Owl Friend's side.

Hugging is still a no, even with a spirit, especially given the state their brain has been in for the past couple of days. But they can take Owl Friend's face in both hands and lean their foreheads together, while ruffling all the best spots of Owl Friend's feathers. It's still probably the most physical affection anybody has seen out of Soldat pretty much ever. "You fucking jerk," they say, mostly under their breath, and the tone isn't angry (it's kind of miserably fond, technically).

But it's been days now, and nobody's managed to convince the spirits to not go. So they let the spirit go, but put a foot on their sled so they can't leave until Soldat has pulled out a piece of origami in the shape of an owl that they might have had made all week and carried around, and tucked it into Owl Friend's suit jacket. They'd made it this far, and had dared to hope they might not need it.

Only then will they let Owl Friend actually do their race. And maybe they'll sprint along beside the sled for most of the route, until they hit the dock. Because dammit. Owl Friend.

[legalcy]

The details are unknown. In another split timeline, Minimus would know exactly how this came to be and come to more horrifying realizations on his fate. Yet even now, he knows what happened in the end: torture.

"We were in the middle of a civil war. Disappearances were not unusual. Dominus was different because he was known. Cybertronians were familiar with his work, so his disappearance so happened to garner some attention."

[callada]

Oh hey, it's the tall hay spirit! Rosinante didn't really pursue interacting with it, as it hadn't seemed very interested, but he remembers their brief meeting. As it prepares to take off, he waves and gives it a thumbs up. You do that weird dying in the sky thing, buddy. Have at it!

[evulsed]

His curiousity keeps him picking up opals, and when he finds the one buried in this, it takes him a moment to place who it could belong to. Many of them are pointless, useless things— but now and then he stumbles across something interesting.

Cao Pi has been on his radar for some time now. He lingered at the top, after Daylight organized their little picnic with Dr Solis. He rolls this opal over in his palm, smirks to himself. The truth of it is that all it does is confirm what he thinks he's known about the man all along. There are names and faces here that maybe, he could use if he wanted to. That, more than anything, is what Vanitas is finding in these memories.

Ammunition for the Darkness. Cao Pi, it seems, isn't really someone Vanitas needs to manipulate to feel it.

He could leave this one behind. He's done it to many others that he's found, dropping them carelessly back in the bushes. After a moments consideration, he tucks this one in his pocket with a handful of others.

1/2 im sorry its a novel

[originallutece]

[How to explain Robert? An impossible task. Who could ever understand? They're so unique, so brilliant, so far past anyone else in the world, in all worlds-- how could anyone understand them?

She's never tried to explain it before. She's never wanted to. But she will for Javert.]

. . . we were teenagers when we met. Seventeen.

[She says it slowly, but her mind whirls desperately, trying to figure out how she'll make him understand.]

It was an accident, really. We had no idea the other existed. We were . . . I told you I could make doorways in universes? This is how it began. With an atom. I was experimenting with an atom, trying to suspend it, and so was he. By fortune, or fate, or mere chance, we picked the same atom.

I woke up one morning to find my atom suspended, when I'd known for a fact I had left it in a different state. The oddness continued over the next few days: the atom would fall and be resuspended at odd intervals, on and off. It took Robert and I less than a week to realize what was happening: that the atom itself was caught between universes, and that he and I were both experimenting with the same methods. Rather like two people fiddling with two switches that are connected to the same light.

Well. Once we realized, we began to communicate. It was dreadfully slow, but we were fascinated by one another. Who wouldn't be? A person like and unlike you . . . you, if you'd made different choices. We were infinitely different thanks to our sex; we wanted to understand how that single chromosome of difference affected us.

We wanted to meet. And eventually, we found a way. But in the meantime . . . oh, it took years. Years of letters in Morse code, transmitted by a single atom, flashing on and off. But--

[Mm. This is a lecture full of science, and that won't help. Rosalind glances away for a few moments. The tips of her ears are red, because she really isn't used to talking about this, not at all, but it has to be said. He has to understand.]

[afoolshope]

"Good," Minato nodded. It was definitely something worth acknowledging. Things were over on the Other Side, that much he had to come to terms with. The only thing that still gnawed at him was the fact that his life essence was meant to be acting as a seal to prevent humanity's doom, to prevent their wish for death from reaching Nyx.

But he was here. All he could do was hope for the best. "If I find any of your memories, I'll be sure to bring them straight to you. I promise."

[evulsed]

[ Vanitas has known Dean was special, ever since he first laid eyes on him. Since they got into that little fist fight, since he had a taste of the unique shape of his Light and Darkness. He can't help but be fascinated by Castiel's little family— what a strange mix of what he knows, the black and white of Vanitas' reality swirled together in these people.

And this explains some of it. Dean's Darkness runs deep, but inside him is the unfiltered kind of Light that Castiel contains. Something that isn't his own— and Vanitas knows this sort of thing well.

Sora carried Ventus in his heart. He'd carried Vanitas, too. That must be how this works&mdsah; how he locked Michael away in part of himself. Is that angel still there? If Vanitas reached inside him, could he pull Dean apart and release that otherworldly being, the same way he'd done with Castiel?

This opal doesn't find the ground again, and it doesn't find Dean either. It tucks away into Vanitas' pocket, accompanied by a little smirk. ]

2/3 just kidding

[originallutece]

. . . I was so lonely.

Not-- not that I pined for a lover. But I was . . . no one-- no one-- could keep up with me. By the time I was six, I had surpassed my parents and my tutors; by ten, I was clawing at the walls I was so intellectually frustrated. No one understood, but more than that: they didn't want to.

Perhaps I could have found a happy life being solitary. Romantic attachments were never part of my plan. But it wasn't just about romance, do you understand? Before Robert, there wasn't a person around me who wanted to admit how brilliant I was.

They thought me eccentric. They thought me a joke. A woman, doing science? It was funny, until I surpassed them, and then it simply couldn't exist. So they would try and subvert it. Every day, in every interaction. You can't imagine-- the-- the comments, the patronizing little names; the assumptions that I had erred on all my equations, because everyone knows women are dullards, fit only to take to bed or to act as domestic servants.

The looks, the leers, the-- the assumption that all I needed was a man to put me to bed, to tame me . . . the doubt, the anger, the blatant idiocy every single time, every damn day, Javert.

[In a moment, when she isn't so caught up in herself, she'll realize that he understands at least a little. Of course he does. Why else is he so hard on himself? So stern, so guarded, so perfect? Because he came from the gutter. Because in some ways, he had so much more to lose than Rosalind ever did.

He never faced the trials of sexism, no. But he faced his trials, and how odd, how similarly they two weathered through them.

But that's for later.]

And then Robert was there. He was-- he was everything I ever wanted. Interested in what I had to say, what theories I had-- he deferred to me, he consulted me. He was the only one who could see me for what I am. Who looked at me and saw a person, not something to be broken or mocked or used. He saw me, all of me, and loved me not in spite of it, but because of it.

I don't--

[No.]

I didn't love him because he was me. Do you understand? I loved him because I loved all the ways he differed from me. I loved him because he was a good man, a far better person than me. I felt-- I felt safe with him. Admired by him, loved by him.

Why would I look elsewhere when I had all I wanted in front of me?

[callada]

[He chuckles softly, happy to play along.]

Yeah. Brilliant. I've never seen a kid devour medical textbooks like he does. He was always right there ready to try and practice new surgery techniques on just about anything we caught for dinner. Which, I guess that's grotesque but I figured he should get the chance to learn.

[More like too angry for his own good, even if the anger is absolutely justified. Law was vicious in training, taking well to guns and swords and hand to hand combat, though it was obvious he favored blades. Knew just where to cut to do the most damage. But a kid like that, thirteen years old and terribly sick, shouldn't have to learn to kill. Self-defense is one thing but what Doflamingo wanted from him is another entirely. He's glad he got Law out of there when he did. Wishes he'd done it sooner.]

[evulsed]

Vanitas doesn't really go out of his way to talk to people. Socialization for him isn't the kindness it is for most people in this place— when he reaches out, it's with a proverbial knife in his hand. Vanitas wants to cut up the people around him and make them hurt, not dissimilar to the way he does himself, all the time. Masaomi is an easy target, and he isn't the only one. People seem to think that all Vanitas wants is for them to be angry— but negativity comes in all shapes and sizes.

He sidles up next to Masaomi during the festivities, his yellow eyes glimmering bright in the unearthly shine of the aurora up above. All around them the spirits are celebrating, cheering. It goes on all through the would be day and would be night. He leans near, so that he doesn't have to shout over the happy jeering of the spirits.

"Did she die?" Vanitas asks, his voice like a little devil in Masaomi's ear. "When you were too scared to save her."

[dadandgone]

"Have you touched any of the rocks falling from the sky yet? They seem to generate whenever the spirits crash into the aurora."

Maes reaches into a pocket and, wrapped in a handkerchief, is one such rock. "If you haven't they have memories inside them. Seems like memories from those of us in Beacon. I found this today...I think it might be yours."

3/4

[originallutece]

[She's silent for a few moments after that. And then, a little more tiredly:]

. . . it's unorthodox. It's strange and unusual, and I very much doubt there's anyone else in all the worlds who has a relationship like ours. But it isn't . . .

[. . .]

I love him. And he loved me. And we were happy, and that was more than either of us had ever thought we'd be.

DONE, FINALLY

[originallutece]

Understand: I would not have kept it from you if it weren't so strange. But I wasn't . . .

[A beat, and she smiles, thin and tight.]

Selfish even past the end. I didn't want to lose you.

[afoolshope]

Minato tried to refrain from squirming a little in his jacket. But he nodded. "I mean... Ryoji was. All the time, hit on girls as soon as day one when he transferred. Junpei kind of always fancied himself a ladies' man but I think Ryoji egged him on that night. Akihiko... can't really flirt his way out of a wet paper bag so he never acts like that."

And himself... well, he definitely got a lot of attention from the ladies of his school. He just never flirted much. Definitely not to the extent of Junpei and Ryoji. He looked up, a bit thoughtful as he looked at Jason.

"Were yours like that?" He had a hunch with the way he asked that question.

[evulsed]

This fascinates him for more reasons than he can articulate. The snapshot into Sora's life, the fury on Dawn's face— and Vanitas knows it must be Dawn— when he faces that boy down. The way he put himself there, like some kind of sentinel.

The boy he'd met here, the one who had stayed only briefly before going the way of Kairi, had been full of this Darkness— but much more stabilized. Resigned to his fate.

And more than that— Naminé had acted without even stopping to think of the consequences. What a power, to be able to think of a thing and make it happen. Memory witch was right. Did she break his mind? Or his heart? Or both?

It's enough to drive him to seek her out, and when he finds her, he smiles— mean, and holds the opal up for her to see between two fingers.

"I have something of yours."

[afoolshope]

"I'm sure there are some people here who have normal lives... relative to our own, anyway," Minato chuckled with a shrug. "Although, you might find it interesting to know. The personas we used, we didn't name them or anything, but they named themselves after several of the Greek gods and figures. I had two at the start - Thanatos and Orpheus."

[dadandgone]

Oh?

Well, at least based on this particular reaction Sora probably did NOT get a memory of Ishval at least. He's grateful for that much as he's not sure he wants ANYONE seeing those. Not that he can stop it if they exist out there. Still, what could cause this reaction in Sora.

And even as Sora is producing the white packet and offering it over to him, the whole thing kind of clicks. Oh no. Oh poor kid. He hadn't even considered that some of his more intimate memories might exist out there too. Jeeze. Sora might not have been young, but it was something entirely different to live out such an experience. Wow was this going to be awkward for awhile.

Maes considered checking the damage. See what sort of conversation this was going to be. He flicks open the packet and brushes the stone's surface. Maes frowns as the memory is absorbed. That was...much tamer than he'd been thinking actually. Was this what had Sora all in a tizzy? It had cut out well before the real fun on his birthday had started.

Maes doesn't say anything for a moment, looking up from the rock and studying Sora for a second. Feel free to completely misinterpret this silence.

[casts]

( eddie really doesn't realize that he's still crying until richie is on his feet and circling him like a nervous hummingbird. he can't help sniffling, wiping his good arm under his nose and shaking his head rapidly from side to side. )

What the fuck happened to me? What the fuck happened to you! ( he's clutching the opal so hard now that he's afraid he might break it but somehow, slowly, manages to hold it out. ) You're gonna give me a stroke at this rate. How come you never told us about the shit Bowers said.

[worthallthis]

Well, considering this was meant as a joke in and of itself, obviously there's got to be some self-awareness going on. They give her wrist a fond little shake, then let her go. "You're welcome." Soldat picks themselves up, rubbing at one temple. "And now I have to eat something." It might make the headache better. Or at least distract from it. Distract from the things that caused it.

[paletteswap]

[It takes a while to find him and when he does it's clear that Cao Pi isn't really paying attention to his surroundings. Kuai tries to approach him from the side rather than sneaking up behind him and startling him, that would make this even more awkward.

In his hands is a folded piece of paper, he'd tucked the opal into it once he realized that every time he touched it he'd have to relive the memory. Clearing his throat he looks at the bonfire before speaking.]

I believe I've found something of yours.

[paletteswap]

[He's noticed the hanging bed of sorts near the roof of the greenhouse, but hadn't realized that Xayah actually lives there. Briefly he thinks about how nice and peaceful it would be in here when no one else is around.]

Good evening.

[The greeting is automatic, even though it's 'evening' all the time. And now with the aurora it's an infinite dusk. Being able to see is a blessing though.]

I believe I've found something of yours.

[He reaches into his pocket for the stone, pausing for a second as his fingers brush it, causing him to relive the memory a second time. Hm. That's not ideal. Once it passes he holds the shiny rock in the palm of his hand, offering it to her if she'd like to come down and get it.]

[worthallthis]

[The sheer unexpectedness of seeing her makes Soldat pause, blink, and then angle their approach to intercept.]

Jo.

[The fact that she's never actually sought them out to this extent makes them think it's about the memories. Which means their expression is actually edging into hopeful and expectant as they get nearer.]

Everything okay?

ii. you got it!

[notthatjason]

“Dude! It’s not like you’ve got a choice. It’s just who you are.”

The scenery is all columns and wide spaces, and somehow you just know you are in the palace of Lord Auster -- the god of the South winds. You stand across from a boy, Nico, lurking in shadows and looking enraged, the shadows practically twisting behind him.

“Just who I am…” the balcony you stand on trembles. Patterns shifting in the stone floor, like bones coming to the surface. “Easy for you to say. You’re everybody’s golden boy, the son of Jupiter. The only person who ever accepted me was Bianca, and she died! I didn’t choose any of this. My father, my feelings…”

You try to think of something to say. You wanted to be his friend. You know that is the only way to help. But Nico isn’t making it easy. You raise your hands in submission, “Yeah, okay. But, Nico, you do choose how to live your life. You want to trust somebody? Maybe take a risk that I’m really your friend and I’ll accept you. It’s better than hiding.”

The floor cracks between you both. The crevice hisses. The air around Nico shimmers with spectral light.

“Hiding?” Nico’s voice is deadly quiet.

Your fingers itch to draw your sword. You’ve met plenty of scary demigods, but you are starting to realize that Nico di Angelo -- as pale and gaunt as he looks -- might be more than you can handle.

Nevertheless, you hold Nico’s gaze. “Yes, hiding. You’ve run away from both camps. You’re so afraid you’ll get rejected that you won’t even try. Maybe it’s time you come out of the shadows.”

Just when the tension became unbearable, Nico drops his eyes. The fissure closes on the balcony floor. The ghostly light faded.

“I’m going to honor my promise,” Nico says, not much louder than a whisper. “I’ll take you to Epirus. I’ll help you close the Doors of Death. Then that’s it. I’m leaving -- forever.”

Behind you, the doors of the throne room blast open with a gust of scorching air. A disembodied voice says: Lord Auster will see you now.

You dread this meeting, but you briefly feel relief. You turn to tell Nico good-bye, but Nico had disappeared -- melting back into the darkness. The darkness seems to spread and the memory jumps, for lack of a better word, and you now stand before a ten-foot tall figure. He is wreathed in steam and clouds that blend with his shaggy white hair. He wears a sand-colored toga and the thought crosses your mind that he is like a soggy Santa Clause, but more lazy than jolly.

You are here to argue your case to Auster once again and you have been here for days now. Yet, somehow he treats it like this is your problem and not his.

“Why are you still in my harbor?”

“We don’t have your permission to leave, my lord. Also, our ship is damaged. We need our mechanic, Leo Valdex, to repair the engine, unless you know of another way.”

The god seems to consider this and swirls dusty winds between his fingers in thought. He muses about his fickleness -- being the South wind means he travels all over the globe: scorching one area while bringing gentle, summer breezes to others. “At any rate, in ancient times, mortals both feared me and loved me. For a god, unpredictability can be a strength.”

“Then you are truly strong,” you say.

“Thank you! Yes! But the same is not true of demigods.” Auster leans forward, close enough so that you smell rain-soaked field and hot sandy beaches. “You remind me of my own children, Jason Grace. You have blown from place to place. You are undecided. You change day to day. If you could turn the wind sock, which way would it blow?”

Sweat trickles between your shoulder blades, “Excuse me?”

“You say you need a navigator. You need my permission. I say you need neither. It is time to choose a direction. A wind that blows aimlessly is of no use to anyone.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand,” you say, but even as the words leave your lips you know that you DO understand. Nico had talked about not belonging anywhere. At least Nico was free of attachments. He could go wherever he chose.

For months, you have wrestled with the decision of where you belong. You always chafed against the traditions of Camp Jupiter, the power plays, the infighting. But Reyna was a good person. She needs your help. If you turned your back on her...someone like Octavian could take over and ruin everything you DID love about New Rome. Could you be so selfish as to leave? The very idea crushes you with guilt.

But, in your heart, you want to be at Camp Half-Blood. The months you’ve spent there with Piper and Leo feel more satisfying, more right than all of your years at Camp Jupiter.

You take a shaky breath, “Yes. I know the direction I want to take.”

The wind picks up, drowning out the conversation and blurring the memory. You hear a new voice as it fades, different yet familiar -- the same god but a different aspect of him -- and he sounds pleased: “You are a son of Jupiter, yet you have chosen your own path -- as all the greatest demigods have done before you. You cannot control your parentage, but you can choose your legacy.”

[notthatjason]

[Jason looks up. With all the activity and noise around Beacon, it's easy to sneak up on him. He recognizes her almost immediately. Less from her time here and more from the memory he'd just seen -- after all they hadn't really met in person yet -- so it's a little odd to have her suddenly appear. For a second he wonders if she stepped OUT of the stone, but stuff like that doesn't happen here.

He blinks out of his daze and nods.]

I am. [He offers her a smile and moves over a bit on the bench.] Naminé. It's nice to finally meet in person. Guess we get to sit by the fire together after all...if you want to join me anyway.