logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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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"Frozen many times." How much have they told Rosinante... well, might as well just tell the whole story. "I was put into cold storage-- frozen-- between each of my missions. I don't know the longest span of time I was allowed to stay thawed, I don't have enough memories back to guess. I have the impression it was a few days at most. Long enough to set me on someone to kill. And then drag me back to the Chair."

They roll the metal shoulder a little, half of a shrug, and answer the question Rosinante didn't ask, but which they can guess from the expression he made at the revelation and how most people react to hearing their age: "I've done the math. HYDRA had me for about seventy years, and I had to be at least nineteen when they captured me." Older, actually, but they don't know that for sure.

She smiles tiredly at him again, and once he is in, she gently shuts the door and gestures for him to take a seat wherever he'd like. "Are they? I'm so sorry to hear that." That sounds traumatizing, to say the least. Even still, while he makes himself comfortable, she will bustle about in the kitchen to get tea and snacks. "Have you found many other memories today, then?" She pauses. "Do you take sugar with your tea, dear?"

Oh.

[That’s different. That’s just her past.]

That’s still not going to work. Maybe. Even getting rid of those memories has a one-to-one chance of backfiring. [It sucked for Tazmily, it worked out well for Duster.] And now you don’t have a house...

[...which is bad. He suggests.]

Said naïveté lead to their downfall. To stop an evil, one must be aware that said evil exists. To know tragedy is to better prepare for one.

“It’s a long story. Their leader was a time traveler from the past, and he abused it so much that he was locked out of every point in time except for ours, and he was pretty old. Immortal, according to what he said. The thing was...he was bored. He wanted to mess with animals and people for fun. I don’t know what those Pigmasks wanted, but Porky kidnapped them for that purpose.

“And that’s why they wanted this Egg from the start. There was only one guy in our village who kept his memories just in case something happened, and I think-“ His face grows solemn. “If I had gotten this back to the village instead of disappeared, we could have protected ourselves.”

[Jo hadn't had the privilege of meeting Eliot when he was first here. She did know Quentin, vaguely, but they hadn't gotten to relationships.

She did see him after Eliot disappeared. She recognized the signs of desperation and grief. She didn't know why.

Thinking over the memory, she isn't sure she understands still. It was Quentin, but older? Can you experience a memory of the future? Especially of a future that didn't happen because they've died.

She has no idea where to find him, but it's easy enough to scroll through the network list to the first Eliot.]

Do you know Quentin?

[Hopefully that works.]

[ Aziraphale can hear in his voice how much this meant to him, to him and his father. Poor boy must miss the man, being here instead of home where he ought to be, spending his early adulthood learning more from him. Clearly, he has no idea that wouldn't have been the case.

He smiles back, warmly and genuinely reflecting on Bruce's relationship with his father, quiet for a moment before he realizes: ]

I've got another one. Not an opal; there was a woman at the Night Market last month who recorded memories.

I wanted to be able to easily revisit one of my... less exciting afternoons at the library. I could lend it to you, if you wanted to see it; it's mostly just reading.

[ After all, he did seem interested in the library's contents. And Aziraphale would never turn away another bibliophile, particularly if it meant that no actual handling of real books would have to be done and therefore, no damage was possible. ]

[Jo wasn't looking for him, or for anyone, but when she sees someone in the distance she does approach.

Once she gets close enough to figure out who it is, she considers leaving him alone. However-

He's been here a while, right? She clears her throat when she's close enough, trying to divide her attention between the sky and Will. It doesn't really work.]

It's a nice change, isn't it?

[This is when a calm and helpful person would mention that they found Minato's memory opal and ask to maybe talk about what they've just seen when they return it. Masaomi is not going to do any of that.]

Are you trying to tell me

that a poff of stale air wafted out of the muzzle of your gun

AND EXPLODED INTO A GIANT MONSTER??!

[ upon hearing her response, daylight visibly sags in relief and lets his helm hang low for a couple of seconds. it does give him some bit of comfort. not a lot but it helps him vent easier, knowing his mom wasn't like that. daylight doesn't think his spark could take any more surprises or revelations like that.

and though day does notice the something more in madam lutece's voice, he has a feeling bringing it up wouldn't be the best thing. ]

So what do you think happens now? [ finally, he reaches out to take the opal, careful to not touch it as he carefully inspected it. ] I can't confront her or my auntie and uncle. They're all dead at this point. [ he winces, hating the fact he needs to use that word and hating the way it's gotten easier to think of them as that now. ] It's not like I can open a book or datapad to read their thoughts and reasoning for... for... you know...

[ he makes a vague gesture with the opal, to its memories it contained. ]

It is! [ daylight's winglets flare out in pride for emergency aid's skills and talents. if anyone deserves to be recognised for their worth, it's most definitely his boyfriend's! ] I once tried to sit through his shift in the medical bay and it was super cool to see him do his work. Super confusing to follow when he explained stuff to me, yeah, but it was amazing to see how he was able to keep up with it.

He did check-ups and inventory stock and release forms and even emergency repairs when, one time, someone's game of frag ball went really, really wrong. He's extraordinary.

[ daylight trails off at that round of excited babbling, looking down at the opal with such fondness. ]

... I love him a lot, obviously, and I hope he's doing well. Being able to see him again, in a moment like this, is really nice.

Yeah, it's all yours. [ Sora will just plop that in the middle of her hand, making sure to stay, like... himself. Which isn't hard, obviously, but he wants to be there in case she gets scared, or angry, or sad. He finally understands why she seems so apologetic around him, he thinks. Now it's time for him to put his money where his mouth is. He's not going anywhere. ]

Thankfully, this patrol's almost done, so in about twenty minutes, he'll come soaring up the way and land gently, walking to Naminé's side.

"Hi. Are you cold? We can head inside somewhere if you want." Seriously, he doesn't think he can actually look at the memory now, especially now that he's aware that they can and will knock him out, so he's content to spend the rest of the day chatting with Naminé about whatever she saw. Even if... she doesn't seem to be in the best spirits at the moment? Or is that his imagination?

"Just want to be sure, ah - heh."

She fully acknowledges that it's weird, but damn if she doesn't want to be certain he'll really rest. There was a lot of beating-oneself-up she just heard, after all.

"I'll get out of your hair. G'night."

"That's about it, yeah."

The wedding may seem like a non sequitur, but in context it was very important to the outcome of said war. Unfortunately, Prompto doesn't have all the context, because he may be friends with a prince, but he doesn't understand all the affairs of royalty or all the details of the peace talks between his country and the enemy.

"The wedding was pretty much cancelled when Noct's fiancée was reported dead, and then his dad was confirmed dead. So as prince of the country, he had to take up some of his dad's duties." He starts to continue, then cuts himself off, pausing to think before talking again. "Don't tell him I mentioned that."

Gregor blinks at that question. Of course everything's okay, why wouldn't it be? But it occurs to him that this person is one of the ones who patrols for danger, so perhaps he thinks this is related to some sort of city-wide threat. Best to stifle that first.

"Nothing too serious." He makes a dismissive gesture with the cigarette hand. "Just thought you wouldn't want to discuss this around everyone else."

He reaches into his coat, but what he brings out isn't the opal— it's a silver cigarette case that's obviously seen better days. Gregor has learned already that plenty of people smoke around here, and it might help take the edge off. He offers one to Soldat.

"Maybe you've already figured this out, but I've got one of your gems. An opal, I believe. I think they're all opals, actually."

He sure is taking his time getting to the point, but then, he sort of always does that. Everything in its own time.

So that was what she wanted. Soldat makes sure to say again, "I'm okay. Just worn out. Promise. I'll still be here tomorrow."

They even ease down to sit on the edge of the bed, though don't make any moves to do anything else until she's shut the door behind her.

Somnus stares. This time? Soldat talks as if he were an animal and a soldier in one. "Decision-making in combat requires evaluation of possibilities for a favorable outcome. If you can do that, one idea is as worthy as many." A dozen suggestions from an ignoramus wouldn't be half as credible.

"Thanks." You are a goddamn saint, Gregor. Cigarettes for the WW2 Sergeant are inclined to make them like you. They accept with a visible relaxing of expression.

They do happen to know that there are people living in the museum, but 1) they might not be here right now, 2) they're outside and potentially out of eavesdropping range, and 3) they don't honestly care if anyone overhears memory-talk much, anyway. Not if it's just Winter Soldier stuff and nobody uses that goddamn name. "I'll admit, I didn't know what kind of rock they were. Good to have a name."

There's a torch over by the musuem door, and they pad over to that briefly to light the cigarette. "I hope the memory wasn't too bad." Hopefully he's here to share it, at least. Surely someone who shares his cigarettes won't keep a memory hostage. Their eagerness for getting new ones has been slightly dampened by more recent regains, but that doesn't mean they don't want it.

The quiet is heavy with everything not said, with all the questions Quentin isn't asking, and Wayne is just... standing there, breathing like he's one surprised.

Quentin tries, tries, tries to not think. About Teddy, newborn and warm in his arms and how proud he'd felt. At two, when it took all three of them to make sure he didn't die while running off in to the forest on adventures or stepping in to the stream like he wouldn't drown in minutes.

Teddy at three, pale and hollow-eyed, wandering around the cabin calling mamma and they'd had to talk about that. About Arielle never coming back, that she had been sick but mamma didn't want to leave you, Teddy-bear, not ever. But she didn't have a choice.

When he had been super-sixteen and partly raised by Eliot, and the cattiness and sarcasm hit epic proportions during fights and all Quentin could see was Arielle's eyes blazing in his face and hear Eliot's tone of voice come out of his mouth- you don't understand, daddy! You never did! Dad understands me!.

Teddy Coldwater-Waugh.

Quentin snaps back to Wayne, to Beacon and this place and the terrifying thought about what he'd do if Teddy was here-- to know that he died for certain, and not just being this logical thing that he knew, but doesn't think about.

"No one does. All you can do is... love them, hold them and hope."

Happy?

[ He echoes the word with little to no feeling. What nonsense. He hasn't truly laughed or smiled in a very long time, and neither is a priority. ]

I was trying to fulfill my duty. Happiness had nothing to do with my actions.

[Hopefully that was an invitation to sit down, but even if it wasn't, that's how he's going to take it. Hello new table-friend.]

Something fairly impressive, actually.

[So at least it's nothing too bad?]

What exactly do you have against the Pope?

[He stares at the space over Quentin's shoulder, then snaps his gaze back to him. What was what? The memory? It's strange enough that Quentin is still here after returning something like that.]

What?

Sora will watch that poor thing go flying! Aw, man, that's the opposite of what he wanted! He's going to reach down to pick that up, then pause as Masaomi puts that question right out there. Oh, right, the thing! The thing he's here to deliver. Right.

"Okay, delectable custard pudding, I see you. Here." And he'll thrust that paper packet at him. MASAOMI - not great. How does Masaomi feel about that label? As soon as he takes it, Sora's going to continue his arc toward the sweater, picking it up and shaking it out. It's not really his business whether Masaomi touches it or not, but he does want to be there in case Masaomi ends up in a bad way afterward.

A few things is right. These opals are a goldmine.

"Plenty. This whole thing is fascinating." Not only is he learning about the residents of the town, but their homes, their worlds, their customs. Some are very much adjacent to his own, while others are wholly alien. Both are equally valuable.

"One thing in particular, though." He reaches into his coat to produce the opal. "Thought you might like to have this."

His tone isn't somber or hesitant. So either it's nothing bad, or he's just very unimpressed by Rosinante's terrible memories.

In my experience love is as complex as any other emotion.

[He doesn't expect Vanitas to latch onto the concepts readily- after all, how much experience has he had with the spectrum of human emotion? How much has he ever been allowed to feel, let alone to question? Maybe it's arrogant to try and explain it in the first place. Bruce doesn't have iron-clad control over his own desires and impulses. He still struggles to put a name and motivation to his emotions, to try and hem them in.

The museum stretches out ahead of them and Bruce leads them along a familiar pathway, bringing them nearer and nearer to the torchlight, watching as it illuminates windowsills and door frames.]

Every now and again a feelings like sadness, or joy, is distinct- the way that you know some people to be all light, the way that you're all dark. But most emotions are a combination of things; envy and resentment, anger and fear.

A grey area.

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EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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