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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[ You're taller than the rest of your class by four or five inches but you still feel small. People make you feel small, that's normal, it's typical so you keep a chip on your shoulder and wear a track into the carpet of your favorite haunts. The best one is called "The Aladdin," and those letters illuminate every hope and desire you've ever had in your life.

Inside you can get lost in the alternate realities of Galaga, Centipede, Mrs. Pacman, but you're the best at Street Fighter. Nobody can beat you at Street Fighter and you're damn near untouchable.

The shit people have said about you, your knobby knees, your razor-sharp elbows, your glasses, your buckteeth. None of that matters, you're the king of this domain. You play people for their tokens, for extra games, and more opportunities to beat your high score.

"You want to spend your summer in the Arcade?"

Eddie's voice and the look of the other losers are still imprinted into your mind, doubtful, skeptical, judgmental and you don't need them. You don't need their pity.

It doesn't take long for you to make quick work of your current competition. He's blonde, with curly hair and gentle blue eyes, and looking at him for too long makes it hard to concentrate. He reminds you of Cory Haim, and it takes you a minute to place that but he might as well have walked right out of The Lost Boys. Unlike your other challengers, when you're playing he's not just some bystander or spectator. It feels like he's rooting for you too, and when you gamble his last token away from him he's quick to throw in the towel. Nobody in Derry, Maine is made of money.

"Man, you're good."

Sympathetic, and maybe a little too frantic you offer one of your tokens to play an extra game. No man can be an island, right? The lucky seven might have split off, but why shouldn't you make some friends on your own? Blue eyes stare right back into your soul, hopeful, but Hockstetter and his band of buffoons get out of a movie just in time to ruin your day. Their only real talent in life has been making you suffer and it continues to be their primary goal.

"Dude. Why are you being weird? I'm not your fucking boyfriend."

Your eyes move from that tall mullet-wearing douchebag to the guy you were having a good time with moments earlier. It takes you a couple of seconds to realize that those words were directed at you, "Woah, I- I didn't-"

"What the fuck's going on here?" Great. Now, it's a scene - you can hear the rest of the people around you fall into a hushed rumble of whispered voices. Hockstetter's walking up from the theater boxes ready to make waves and it shouldn't hurt you when the guy says it but Cory Haim turns back toward the four of them with too much ease in his words and it does. "You assholes didn't tell me your town was full of little fairies?"

Is everyone on the fucking planet an asshole or is this something Derry specific?

"Richie Fucking Tozier? Wait- you trying to bone my little cousin?"

What the fuck are you supposed to say to that? Hockstetter is close, so close there would be no point in running or standing your ground and the whole thing is so out of the left-field all you can do is stand there, lips parted in shock, hands open-faced and down at your side. Still reeling. How the hell did it go from having a good time to this?

Then, at the top of his lungs: "Get the fuck out of here faggot!!!!!!"

The entirety of The Aladdin goes silent, and your feet move without much prompting at all. Small backward steps, no point in taking your eyes off of those guys. Not when you can't trust them. Nobody else says a word, and a small glance over your shoulder makes it clear that they won't. Why would they?

"Fucking move!"

The Aladdin was the one thing you had left to distract you. The one thing that you could count on to bring you some sense of self and success. Now that was gone, and you're proud of yourself for not making a scene and lucky that it didn't end up something way worse. Once you push through the door, your nerves rattle back up through you like a swift wind. Every time your feet hit the sidewalk it feels like you're running across hot coals and you don't break down until you make it to the park, unoccupied, so nobody has the satisfaction of knowing what being treated like that actually did to you.

You know that a boy that loves other boys is a dead boy and that plenty of bodies had been buried here for less.]

( it takes all of a half-second for eddie to realize where he is the moment he (like a dumbass) reaches down to pick up one of those opals. it's brown, common like the color of his eyes but there is cracks of color that draw him toward it. toward the memory that lingers within the gemstone. memories of a familiar theater back in derry and the arcade they had all spent time playing in at one point during the summer.

it takes a little longer for him to realize it isn't one of his memories though. he isn't nearly this tall, still padded with baby fat and the reflection in the arcade cabinet tells him everything he needs to know. it's richie and now he's rich or... he's seeing this memory from richie's point of view?

eddie doesn't even have time to be confused because the scene is playing out and he feels everything. every emotion, frustration and ounce of happiness that swims through his friend is swimming through him. the excitement of a new friend and possibly...? it's hard to make sense of what he feels because sure enough (like clockwork) bowers and his gang appears.

again, eddie feels everything and it is only amplified by his own emotions. he doesn't know how richie can stand in silence when he feels on the verge of panic, breathing rapidly and wanting an inhaler he knows isn't there. the yell is deafening and before he can react, he (richie) is running. running fast, faster than he's ever ran until he thinks these feet might take them right out of the town itself. the memory ends though swimming in emotions just like how it had started but these are gut-wrenching, sad and eddie doesn't realize he's crying until the memory fades. until he finds himself back in his own body.

everything he had felt, richie had felt and―

suddenly: he's running despite how much his lungs are burning. he runs, the opal clutched in his hand until he reaches the invincible and near slams through the doorway to the room he shares with his friend. he probably looks a mess; crying, hair wind swept and near wheezing. )

Richie!

[Richie's learned to ask questions when things get weird here, to take notice when other people say not to go places or not to touch certain things but he's been nursing a headache brought on by bad dreams and lack of sleep and so when Eddie takes off that afternoon he doesn't join him, he stays in his bed with his tablet and keeps his eyes on the shit people say, drifting in and out of unconsciousness when his body decides to make up for the lack of rest.

What he isn't expecting is the door to slam up and he drops everything in his lap, his shoulders hiked up to his ears when wood meets wood. It takes a minute for him to notice Eddie's crying, and he's off the bed and over to him in a flash. Old habits had him checking him for injuries or some kind of ailment but when he sees there's nothing the wild-eyed searching stops.]

Well, what the fuck happened to you? You're gonna make me stroke out if you keep making these kinds of entrances.

( 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.

[Well, at least his attitude is back in full swing. Richie spreads his arms out wide and lets them drop with a defeated sigh. Eddie freaking out over something was the most normal he could get, so at least that was a comfort. The opal he foists out gets a critical look and Richie immediately pockets his hands.

Hard pass when it came to reliving past trauma or anyone else's issues. That's what he thinks it is until he hears Bowers's name in the equation, Richie's face contorts with grief. The only decent thing about his afterlife had been the knowledge that they weren't there too. It made things easier, at least, but there's no telling what the tears and the frantic look on Eddie's face meant. Richie didn't get to select what got put on blast for the world to see.]

Bowers said a lot of shit. What did the stupid river rock tell you? I've got tales for days about that inbred asshole. We all do.

It's not a river rock, jackass. It's an opal. ( because, obviously, that's important here and when did eddie not live to correct richie's misinformation? )

( he continues to hold tight to the said opal though. passing it between his hands, running his fingers over it and finally sighing with a look. )

Yeah... but, you don't cry. Ever. This thing showed me you or, like, I was you? Bowers said some fucked up shit though. You should have came and found one of us even if it was after the fight.

Okay...

[His patience was endless but Richie wasn't about to sit there and argue the semantics of stones. Something makes him hesitant to reach out and touch the opal specifically so he settles for pushing his palm into the back of Eddie's hand instead. He pushes Eddie's hand downward, toward his waist, so that he didn't have to fight for attention over the dumb rock he brought with him.]

What difference would it have made? I mean, whatever you saw - it's old news, right? Bowers tortured us all the time. Me crying - that's just because I'm human. I'm a very sympathetic person, Spaghetti. I've got a great big ... heart. I wish I could paint the entire world with my feelings.

Like some Buddhist Van Gogh Mahatma Gandhi perversion.

[Richie had feelings, that much was true, but he wasn't emotional or empathetic. Not so deeply as to pursue pain and discomfort that wasn't his own. He'd done that once, for Bill - and for the other six. He'd done it for Eddie too, but that part of him got locked away when they split that summer and Richie's working off the hope that Eddie saw any other vision besides the one he'd actually seen.]

Edited 2020-02-25 03:17 (UTC)

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EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

- a token, cw: homophobia, bullying, hate speech

/cracks knuckles

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