logsinthenight | 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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( no, it's not enough of an answer, and he's palpably confused. him? even when she clarifies, he's not sure he understands. he decides maybe trying to press her to talk after whatever happened might not be the most helpful suggestion, instead drawing her closer. she does seem a little calmer when she's got something solid to connect to, and sadly about all he can do for her is be that anchor.

when she finally pulls back, he lets her. he can tell she's searching for something in his expression, in vacant glasses that hide his eyes, ones that might look toward her but can't really see her. ) I don't understand. You were right here, Elektra, I handed you that thing and then you faded, but... ( the reassurance dies before he finishes it. ) That thing showed you something?

[ she swallows, still trying to catch her breath. her hand reaches out, touching his cheek, confirming that he's in front of her and she's not still stuck in his memory. he's asking her to clarify what she meant and she's not sure how to explain exactly what had happened. ]

Yes. It - it showed it to me from your point of view, something that had happened to you. I saw -

[ she hesitates, but only briefly. they've promised each other honesty, and she knows he'd want to hear this, but it feels so intrusive. she'd known what had happened to him, but this is different. ]

- The accident. I saw the accident.

( Matt is extremely unversed in the supernatural. back home, there were occasional aliens striking down in Times Swuare. there was that psychopath with mind control powers in Manhattan for a bit. true and genuine magic is still hard for him to wrap his head around. she's told him some of what the Hand is capable, hell, he's experienced plenty here in Beacon. still, the idea of his memory being encapsulated in a stone and falling from the sky? that's a hell of a thought to wrap his head around.

he's silent a moment. he's not mad at her, not really. it isn't her fault, hell, he's the one that handed it to her. if he knew, would he have? even with the promise of honesty, nothing held back? probably not. not because it's a secret, he'd tell her plain how the accident happened if she ever asked. more that it's not an experience he would want anyone to live. not even Wilson Fisk quite deserved to watch life fade away from him as his father desperately begged for someone to save what was already gone.

his hand tenses, just a moment, before he rubs a spot between her shoulder blades. an attempt to comfort, though there's probably no good way to relax after living a moment like that one. )

It's just a memory. ( is that a fair description? maybe. maybe not. certainly not for him. but he wants to lessen the vice of terror in her voice, and hopefully for her, that's all it has to be. )

[ before the hand and aside from hearing about the alien attack in new york (she'd come back there once she'd heard about it just to make sure he was safe but hadn't approached; he'd seemed shaken and gobsmacked the way the rest of the world had been but otherwise fine and she had never had much faith in god but she'd thanked him that day), she had never paid much attention to the supernatural, either. she had never believed in stick's tales until the hand had told her what she was. and then they'd both ended up here.

it's just a memory. but it was his memory and she feels like she's violated something personal. not being in control was what had scared her more than anything else, but she still feels awful about having seen it. he's tense, keeping his voice and posture carefully neutral, but even as he rubs between her shoulderblades, trying to impart some comfort, she can tell he's not happy about it. who would be? ]

I'm sorry I saw it.

[ she hadn't intended to. she knows that; she knows he knows that. but she'd still seen it. ]

( no, he's not happy. he can't help that. he doubts Elektra would be happy if the shoe was on the other foot, even if they've agreed to be honest with each other. ugly fragments of your past aren't easily shared vocally, much less viscerally. he doesn't want her to see that but to be fair, he doesn't want anyone to.

in fact, she's likely the last one he'd want to really know what it was like, and there's no taking it back now. )

I'm sorry too. ( he's been there, he remembers, seeing that memory isn't something he'd want anyone to live. it's most certainly one of the worst memories he has. he wishes she hadn't experienced it, but he can't be mad at her for it. there's only accepting it. ) But it isn't your fault. I know that.

( he grimaces, slightly, turning away from her to glance around the path around them. the stones are scattered everywhere, not just the one he handed her. dozens more. ) Are all of these... ( memories? he's now fairly hesitant to touch one. )

[ she knows that. more importantly, she knows he knows that, and not just because he's just told he so. it doesn't change what had happened. she can't erase the experience from her mind, and it feels so wrong to have a memory that's not hers there. her hand frames his face fully, her thumb rubbing over his cheekbone, before he turns to examine the space around them ]

I don't know. [ she takes a look at the stones herself, enough of them scattered around that they could be a part of the path. ] I think we'd need to touch them to find out. [ not something she's particularly eager to do again. ]

Edited 2020-04-10 13:39 (UTC)

( he's not keen to try, either. even if the idea of seeing something, even through the eyes of someone else's memory, is at least a little tempting. in the same way that an addict can't quite help themselves from considering a fix. now that he's remembered what it's like to see from being trapped in the Green Eyes dream, Matt is especially tempted by the idea of actually seeing things... even though he wishes he wasn't. )

We should do what we can to avoid them. ( he's a liar by trade and evasive by nature, but apparently there is a limit for how nosy Matt Murdock will be. he can't help hearing, smelling, and feeling things people don't want him to know about, but that doesn't mean he needs to double down and pry in their memories, too.

he ducks a kiss to the palm of the hand near his cheek. ) Let's keep going. It belongs behind me. ( he does not want the stone — there's no need for him to relive that memory. he already has it seared in his head. )

[ she can understand why it would be tempting for him, especially after viewing how he'd lost his sight through his perspective. even knowing it was a memory, she'd tried fighting against it as if it could change anything, as if she'd return to her own mind and he'd have a few more extra moments of seeing his father and holding his hand. in the end it didn't make a difference.

he turns to press his mouth against his palm before saying they should keep going and she nods, tucking his hair behind his ear before turning to locate the stone that held the memory, pulling her sleeve over her fingers before ducking to retrieve it. she throws it as far into the woods as she can before turning back to him, nodding. ]

Let's go.

EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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this is gonna be longwinded i'm sorry

💕💕💕 i love every one of your words gimme em all

i will forever and ever amen 💖💖💖

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