inthenightmods: (Default)
In the Night Moderators ([personal profile] inthenightmods) wrote in [community profile] logsinthenight2020-02-16 05:05 pm

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... đź‘€ 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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notthatjason: (Protector of Rome)

ii. you got it!

[personal profile] notthatjason 2020-02-22 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
“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.”
Edited 2020-02-22 04:03 (UTC)