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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[Soldat tilts their head a little at Javert, expressionless and looking for signs that their handler might change his mind, before nodding once and unwrapping the opal, letting it rest on their metal palm in the optimum place for crushing, and closing their fist tightly, servos whining. There's a cracking sound, then a crunch, and then the opal is a bunch of tiny, harmless pieces of stone and dust.]

Some memories you don't want to relieve. I understand.

( He tries not look relieved, as the stone is crushed and turned to dust, but he's only somewhat successful. It isn't the memory of Valjean that bothers him — he has several of them already, tucked away in his coat pocket — it is only what it represents. His failure to do his duty, a shameful thing. He couldn't live with it. He doesn't know if Soldat would understand. )

No.

( He answers, his voice low and gruff. There's a part of him that wants to explain, but where would he even begin? )

It's not that simple.

I've had someone else want me to destroy a stone, too. And I destroyed one of my own. After I'd seen it.

[Soldat settles back down into a crouch, now, so they're kind of on the same level-- a little lower, but that's only appropriate, anyway-- but it's not a pose that will embarrass their handler.]

Why didn't you want to see yours?

( He looks away, down at his lap, and the hands that he has twisted together. It's a habit of his, toying with things when he is pensive or nervous. Sometimes it is the handle of his lantern, other times it is his whiskers. The leather of his gloves creaks with each movement, and it is like thunder in his ears. He halts the movement abruptly, still at a loss for what to say. )

Because it is what preceded my death. I never told you, did I?

( There aren't many people who know. It's not something Javert likes to discuss, even with those that he trusts. )

No. I never asked.

[A lot of people don't like talking about their deaths. It's understandable, in the broad sense. And if Javert is going to, obviously that means something.]

( He scoffs a bit, his nervousness giving way to hysterics. What does he care what Soldat thinks of him? Javert's already told him multiple times he's not a good person, nor a good police officer. He's failed his superiors in every way a man could possibly do so. Perhaps now he will understand. )

Well, here is your answer, then. I condemned myself. After escorting Valjean to his house, I took to the Seine and threw myself into its current. It's no less than I deserve.

( Even now, after everything that's happened, he still believes that. )

[Thankfully, HYDRA drilled enough geography into the Asset's brain, that they know what the Seine is. So that just nod, absorbing the information, not judging. Scarlett already confessed she came here by killing herself, months and months ago. Just this "morning", they had a memory from Kuai about attempted suicide that jogged loose one of their own, from after a disastrous mission with terrible collateral.

But Javert hadn't killed anyone, done anything terrible. He had just learned something important about himself, had a positive interaction with his important person. Why did he feel the need to die?]

May I ask. Sir. ... Why?

[He's under no obligation to answer. But this seems like the time to ask, if there ever was one.]

( It's a difficult question. Javert almost looks as if he's about to flee, his entire body going rigid and his hands gripping tightly to his trousers. He doesn't like to think about it, and he likes talking about it even less, but still, he answers a bit softly, )

Because I had done wrong. I let an escaped convict go, and put myself above the law. That had pleased me. I didn't know what else to do with myself.

( There's a lot more to it than that, of course, but Javert's not yet comfortable enough to talk about it. He's still a bit guarded, even around Soldat, and he hates having to admit his weakness. )

[It's still more of an answer than Soldat had really expected to get, with that reaction almost immediately making them regret even asking.

So they nod slowly, a little hesitantly, at the explanation, and take it at face value. And, really, there's something in that Soldat can relate to:]

It wasn't. In your programming. And so you broke your programming and then felt like you couldn't go back.

[Yeah, yeah that kind of fits. Soldat's one instance of wanting to die had been guilt, but they can see how breaking programming he'd thought had been good and right could leave someone like their handler at such a place. Empathy. They're getting better at it.]

( He falls silent for a moment, his head bowed, but not daring to look at Soldat. He doesn't know if he could bear to see his expression, filled with pity or some other emotion. His fingers uncurl gradually from his trousers, once he knows there are no other questions forthcoming. It had been difficult enough explaining it to Rosalind, who had no understanding of his issue, but Soldat does, and that makes it easier.

He chances a glance at him, his expression humble and ashamed. )

Do you remember what you were like before? How lost and directionless you were? I was the same way when I came here. There are times when I still feel so.

[There's not a whole lot of expression to see, at least, so there's not much to be embarrassed by. Mostly it's thoughtful, maybe a little sad. It's true that they don't feel directionless nearly as much as they used to, but that's because they've found things and people to fill their time with, and a strict routine to organize it all. (Do we remember. I mean honestly. No. See, exactly like that.)

But Javert doesn't like people. Hrm. This isn't a problem Soldat can solve for their handler, no matter how much they'd like to.

Too bad they can't get Javert to be friends with Misty. She doesn't really like people, either.]

I do sometimes, too. Feel like that still. People help.

[Maybe not for Javert, but maybe if he let them. And, well, there's not-people, too.]

And I'd help. If you wanted me to. I don't think you did wrong.

( Javert lets out a weak scoff. Why must he always be so insufferably supportive? )

You do quite enough for me already. I would never ask for anything more.

( He does need people to help him, though, he just doesn't want to admit it. He never would have Soldat any of these things if he didn't have others coaxing him to open up a little more, reassuring him that he's a good person, and that he's worthy of friendship. It feels wrong for Soldat to offer him such a thing, when he himself is still troubled. Javert's pride will not allow it, and so he huffs unkindly, )

I don't require your pity.

No.

[Soldat can agree with that. They're not honestly sure they know what pity feels like, in themselves, but they know what it feels like to get it from other people, and it's not pleasant. They're used to unkindness of many kinds, but what unkindness comes from Javert is not for the sake of cruelty. That's fear, and that's shame-- and they do know what that feels like.

So they shrug and say,]

But nobody should be alone. No matter what kinds of wrong things they've done.

[They do know they've probably pushed enough for today, though, if he's getting snappish. Time to settle into routine instead.]

Did you want to have our chess game today? Or should I let you be for now?

( There's a retort hanging on the edge of his lips. Javert has never needed anyone before, and he's gotten along just fine on his own. He doesn't say any of that, though, because Soldat isn't trying to press. Instead, he huffs a bit, standing on his own two feet a bit gingerly, leaning on the crutches. )

If you wish. I understand if you have better things to do than amuse a cripple.

( He's no such thing, Javert's just been in a much more irritable mood ever since he broke his leg. He's not used to being so idle, and if he's forced to read another paperback novel, he may very well drive himself mad. )

[This is their "handler tasks" time. Chess is an official handler task, particularly with Javert laid up like this.]

I do not.

[So they quite contentedly follow him back to the Invincible for chess. They'll try not to kick his ass at it and make him even more grumpy.]

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EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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cw: suicide mention, self-loathing

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