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!

QUICKNAV
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Sure?

[Why the hell not?

He still wants to go out and look at the light before it's gone, but. It might be there for a while yet and yes, so will Eliot. Probably. Maybe. This is a weird place and weird things happen, so Quentin steps inside when Eliot asks.]

Oh. That's good. I think. It was nice seeing Margo again. And you... it was nice remembering Brakebills. Before we found out about the Beast and everything.

Back when we were only slight younger but a whole lot stupider.

[ He sighs, nostalgic for the good ol' days. Back when Eliot's biggest worry was what to wear so the new boy thought he was cute. He still worries about whether or not Quentin thinks he's cute, but it's not a top priority.

He closes the door behind Quentin. ]

I guess I should find a safe place to put it.

Unless you want Midge to see Margo? Then, yeah. You should hide that one away somewhere.

[The cabin is nice. It looks nicer than Quentin's, and more lived in. There's something squirming in his stomach and Quentin just-- takes a second. To look at Eliot and really, regret coming here to hand the memory back.

If he hadn't?

Later. Tonight or tomorrow, when the newness of watching people's memories drop down from the sky fades. Once he gets a chance to catch his breath and (over)think things through-- Quentin will wonder about this. About Eliot's memory being about him in some way. The nervousness in Eliot's voice and the jerks of his hands. The many, many outfits. How he's seem something like this before.

Back in the cottage with Mike, and Eliot fretting so hard about outfits he even asked Quentin for help.

But that's for later, and now it for looking around the cabin carefully and trying to not look too hard at Eliot. To not notice how his hips swish when he turns or the soft curve of his mouth when he smiles.]

And hey, if you find one of mine... you know where I live. This looks nice.

I hope I find one of yours. I hope it's totally mortifying and I can hold it against you for forever.

[ But he's clearly joking, if the smile on his face is any indication.

For the moment, Eliot sets the stone in his pocket, and he gently guides Quentin towards the kitchen. There's not exactly the alcohol supply Eliot is used to when it comes to hosting people, but there's the smell of freshly baked something. Croissants, by the look of it, since Eliot is grabbing a tray of them. ]

It is nice, right? Midge knows how to keep a nice home. Here, eat some of these.

Yeah, that's-- good to know. That I should keep all the ones I find to myself.

[Quentin, who really have had his share of the crap they serve here. Or, stock in the general store, just nods and. Sure, why not? Maybe drinking more wine is just what they need.

To. Find the way to be friends again. And he grabs one of the croissants, awkwardly holding it while looking about.]

Uh huh, and clean, too. How is it? Living here? And, you know, adjusting to being dead.

Here, as in the cabin? It's great. A little dark - [ See? That was a joke, Quentin. ] - But it's nice. Quaint, actually. If you mean Beacon, it's no Fillory. Or New York. But, you know.

[ Quentin's here. That makes it instantly likeable. ]

I've adapted to weird shit before.

I guess you're right. I mean, at least there's no cursed thrones here, right?

[See? Joking. They're fine, it's all just fine. It's fine that Eliot is so far away and looking at him like Quentin is just a friend. It's fine.

Quentin waves the croissant a little.]

And there's no beast and I haven't seen a single God in all this time. There are spirits, and they're really not-- some of them are just not something you'd want to get close to. But no Gods. But oh hey, but you know what? We're not the only ones with magic and really weird stories, so. It's... yeah, it's fine.

And, you know, we have us. Each other.

[ He says it with a shrug, because it’s easier to act like it’s trivial. Even though it’s not trivial.

Eliot leans against the counter, then he doesn’t, because he’s suddenly feeling very aware about the memory Quentin saw. ]

Hey, so, I think in a couple weeks I’ll be ready for our not-quest.

Eliot, I-- yeah. Yes, we do. Best friends, right?

[Because Quentin does remember, even if it was a year or so go, how it went. How he had to swallow it all way down and go be life partners with someone else for a while and he smiles, still holding on to the delicious-looking pastry as he sits down on a chair.

So, yeah. They're doing this.]

Really? How, I mean, not that I don't believe you or. You know. But-- what are you doing? Cutting down trees out back? And it's a quest. Kind of. A small one.

I'm taking lessons. Like you suggested. Now I can definitely sort of stab things with the pointy end of a sword.

[ If there's at least one good thing to be said about Eliot, it's that he's good at picking up on things when he wants to be. And, sure, impressing Quentin and being useful in Quentin's eyes is a decent motivator. ]

It's too small of a quest to make up for the fact that I owe you one.

What? Really? I--

[Quentin beams at him from across the room, heart hammering in his chest, because-- wow, he never thought Eliot would actually do it and because. Well, selfishly, this will mean Eliot has a bigger chance of not dying again and Quentin won't have to mourn him again.]

You don't owe me anything, why would you think that?

[ The lessons are totally worth it for that smile. Eliot's not cheesy enough to think that it lights up the room, but, well. It's nice. Eliot loves Quentin's smile, and he ducks his head to hide his own smile. ]

You know. You were so upset I wouldn't go on that boat quest with you. So. I want to do this one.

Just so you know, [Quentin says, taking a bite out of the croissant just to stop himself from spilling just everything. There's going to be a time and place for that, but it's not going to be Midge's kitchen after finding memories in rocks.] it's going to take more than just a stroll in the woods to make up for that. You didn't even get to see me do that thing I always wanted to do.

I know. I bet you looked very good doing it.

[ Eliot lets out a moderately dramatic sigh and he sits down, near Quentin. Under the table, their feet bump together. It's hard to tell if it's accidental or on purpose. ]

Maybe you can swing a sword around in the woods for me. It'd be sort of like it, right?

You know what? I did, and it was really fucking amazing for a while there.

[Boat quest, and it was more than a year ago, but sometimes, thinking about it before things went to shit and before Benedict died-- it had been really great. The open sea, the scent of salt in the air.

Smiling at the memory, Quentin swings his feet under the table, shuffling them around until the tip of his shoe rests against Eliot's.]

Oh I'll swing a sword for you, if you want. You can show me what you've learn so far.

Oh, like you show me yours, I'll show you mine?

[ Eliot laughs. It's light and easy and comfortable, because being like this with Quentin is just easy. Teasing each other seems to come naturally, at any rate. ]

The last time I used a sword, I almost got a husband, so, you know. Watch out or you'll be ridiculously charmed.

You better show me yours, if I show you mine, Waugh. I don't just show off my sword for everyone.

[Bantering, like they're still back at the Physical Kids cottage, in front of a roaring fire and the worst thing in the word is classwork and the Beast. Quentin can't help smiling back, Eliot laughing with him again and it's been so long...]

Are you warning me? That's not how you win a fight, you've got to keep the element of surprise an actual surprise.

Well, excuse me for trying to be nice and give you a heads up. I'd hate for you to be so distracted that something bad happens to you out there.

[ Which - Is actually true. It's enough to kill Eliot's lighthearted mood a bit. Not that he thinks he'd ever be enough to distract Quentin, not when Quentin's in Adventure Mode and there's a problem to solve. He's always quietly admired Quentin's ability to focus on trying to find a solution when a challenge presents itself.

Eliot's never really been that way. Not in the same way Quentin is, anyway. ]

You have croissant crumbs on your face.

[ There's just enough light from the lanterns to catch the golden bits of pastry glinting every now and then. ]

[Quentin's smile slips a little at that- distracted and being killed isn't even the worst of it. The worst would be being hurt enough to want to. And the vivid memory of blood and guts and having to shove the splinted, broken pieces of a compound fracture in to place flashes behind his eyes.]

What?

[He licks his lips, chasing crumbs and he never looks away from Eliot.]

Did I get it?

[ Eliot wonders if Quentin knows what he's doing right now. He thinks back on all the time they've spent together, even the memories from the entire life they lived together, and … Has Quentin ever been this obvious? No, he thinks. It's just Quentin being Quentin, which means he's just being oblivious, because that makes a lot more sense to him than Quentin purposely trying to get him a little hot and bothered.

Not that Quentin can't do that. Fifty years together and you learn just how to work a guy up when you want to.

But that was another life. And this is now. And Eliot here has (stupidly) pushed Quentin away so there's no reason to think at all that he'd have ulterior motives with his tongue and his lips. Eliot's never been lucky enough to get second chances. ]

Here -

[ Okay, it doesn't stop him from leaning over, reaching out a hand. He uses his thumb to brush away totally non-existent crumbs from the corner of Quentin's mouth. Just a little touch to remind him what he gave up, because Eliot Waugh is a glutton for punishment. ]

You know it's a good croissant by how flakey it is.

[It's all fun and games until someone puts a finger on your mouth and Quentin's brain short-circuits for half a second. It's like all the air has been sucked out of the room and all he can do is just sit there, mouth hanging a little open and just fucking feel the heat that Eliot's thumb leaves behind.]

Uh huh.

[And he blinks, slowly, still not even trying to breathe and Quentin's eyes a big and wide and they flick down to Eliot's lips before coming back up to look in to his eyes. His big, brown eyes that haven't been this close in ... forever.

Swallowing hard, Quentin nods and stuffs another bite of croissant in to his treacherous, tingling mouth.]

Yeah, this is great. Midge can really make anything and it's going to taste amazing.

[Chewing and it's like chewing wet cardboard compared to the tiny, barely-there taste of Eliot on his lips.]

[ Eliot blames it on the mosaic. Lingering emotions and feelings, because that’s so much easier than reading into everything happening between them right now.

Thank God Quentin stuffs his mouth full of croissant.

Eliot sits back, taking his hand back and forcing himself to try and be nonchalant. ]

I’ll see if she can make us some for our little adventure. I’m sure she will.

She's already cooking for half the town. I'd feel selfish asking her for more--

[Quentin's mouth feels desperately lonely and he eats the rest of the croissant quickly to make up for it. Reminding himself that Eliot doesn't remember and trying, trying, trying to remembering what it had been like. The last Key and before Quentin made a deal with Ora.

Fifty years and they are friends.]

Maybe she'll have leftovers. I can't wait to see how good you've become with a sword, though. Maybe we wont even have to fight, maybe your charming sword will just chase them all off.

If charming spirits was an option, I wouldn't be busting my ass twice a week trying to learn how to fight for you.

[ Eliot looks amused. He seems to be getting over their intense moment, which he's very grateful for, and he shrugs a shoulder. ]

Anyway. Thanks for dropping off my stone. Give me a list of other things I might need so I can get it packed up, and, you know. We'll go whenever you want to.

[Eliot says learning to fight for you like it's this normal thing people do and Quentin's heart skips a beat and flips over in his chest. The croissant is all gone and there's nothing to distract his mouth with so he just-]

Food. Water. A torch if you have it. Good boots and warm clothes. I have stuff for bandages, just in case we need it? A blanket, maybe. But honestly, though. I am just winging it, because I have no idea what we might find out there.

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EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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