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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I was felled by a blade.

[Before Quentin starts getting ideas, Somnus would clarify that here. He never fell ill.

That's a good question, though. From what he's gathered, spirits can't truly die, yet the overall attitude behind this tradition lends an air of permanence to their actions.]

The wound was fatal, yet I walk this earth all the same—a miracle about which the spirits seem even less concerned. Perhaps they'll return. What are your thoughts?

Someone stabbed you with a sword.

[Translation, not that any of them need it. He watches the spirits, in high-- spirits, partying like it's going out of style. Like they don't have a care in the world except for the ones who will throw themselves at the bright light in the sky.

What the hell would they do if the sun came out?

He blinks, coming back to the conversation.]

I don't know. I think maybe no? But honestly, I have no idea. They don't seem to get the concept of dying. They killed a lot of us, and they mentioned on the network that they didn't get what the fuss was about.

[They used smaller and more words for it, but it all came down to - why are you even bothered, you come back.]

[Yes, he sure was stabbed. It hurt, and it's not important.

What is, are the spirits. He's heard a similar claim about their lack of understanding from someone else. They really are different from the people bound to lanterns, from their way of thinking down to their method of communicating.]

Does it trouble you?

[The idea that their deaths might last.]

That they die?

[That's actually a good question and Quentin is about to just blurt out a no on principle. But...]

I don't know. I think I'd be less worried, if I didn't think that most of these spirits are the friendly ones. The ones who help us here, and who might even help us when we're lost in the dark or in the woods. If they all die, then the only ones left are the ones who want us to suffer.

[And this place is bad enough as it is-- not just the darkness, or missing close to everyone from back home. It's the lack of choice. He didn't get a choice in coming here, and now that he is, he can't leave.

And not just because leaving everyone and everything behind would be an asshole move, but because... they can't leave. Even dying only brings you right back, in some cases and Quentin isn't willing to... do that if it took more than once.]

[They can only be so lucky. Somnus doubts they'll be able to change the spirits' minds about partaking in this morbid custom. They shouldn't rely so much on the friendly nature of the spirits, either, in his opinion. Boons come and go while hardship is ever constant.]

Then there's naught that can be done but to adjust our approach.

[Rather than worrying about what might be, they might as well forge contingent plans around it.]

Are you adept at communing with the spirits?

I wish, but so far the only way I know to talk to them, is with the ocarina and I'm really not good at that? I'm really just not good with instruments. I can do a spell and it can play a song, but I have to know it first.

[And then there was the spirits who had answered the bulletin. Using their own words against them, to tell them to just die. To listen. Bullshit.]

Maybe someone else has found a better way, or an easier way to talk to them. I know that Daylight, the big robot-guy? He's tried to talk to the green-eyed spirits. It didn't work or anything, but maybe he's found a way that's better than just blowing that thing and hope for the best.

[Daylight's name has cropped up again. (Again, what's a robot?) He seems to be the forerunner where communication with the spirits is concerned. That's a considerable burden for one individual.

One thing's for certain: hoping for the best alone won't avail them of anything. Somnus eyes Quentin.]

You mentioned a spell. What else can you do?

Magic?

[Okay, so Quentin first idea here with a list of magical creatures and magicians had been a bust. Doesn't mean he can't share what he can do himself.]

I can do magic. And if you're thinking about card tricks and stuff like that, I can do that, too. But. Also, magic. Real magic.

[Card tricks? What?]

What type of magic?

[Obviously the type where Quentin can play a song, which is the first Somnus has heard about it. It sounds useful, though, and he's curious to know the depth of Quentin's talents.]

Uh, the regular kind?

[How do you even describe magic if saying 'magic' isn't enough? He twists his fingers together through the most basic tut and throws his hand upwards- tiny, dull bursts of fireworks fly from the tips of his fingers to bloom without light just above their heads.]

Magic. Fire, ice, fix things. Make things invisible, except I can't do that because I'm not a Phosphoromancer. Find things that a lost, set things on fire, conjure wine. There's a lot of different kinds of magic.

[He snaps his head up to watch the fireworks. They have his full attention up to the moment the last dull spark fades, after which Somnus raises a fist. He snaps his fingers open to conjure a ball of fire with neither light nor heat that dances on his palm.]

The magic I possess draws from the elements of nature. Fixing and finding objects, as well as conjuring wine, are beyond my power.

[Closing his fist, he snuffs the fire out.]

How have you utilized your magic for this world?

[It looks like Eliot's magic, the fireball burning without light in the center of Somnus' palm and Quentin's stomach clenches.]

Yeah, some magicians could do that, too? In my world. I had a friend who was really good with ice. And another one who did amazing things with light.

[And Julia, Goddess of the Trees. Josh, the Herbalist and all the Naturalists on campus.]

How I use it? I guess magic flows here, too. Except-- it's harder. I can't do as much as I'm used to.

[Light. He briefly stares off into the distance before turning to Quentin.]

Can it still be of use?

[In, to, and for this world.]

[And see, this is a predicament - show or tell? Does he make a flashy display of just how well his magic works, so he doesn't look like a complete idiot, or just mention it to conserve energy in case the spirits turn on them.

Again.]

It works okay. As long as I don't overdo it. And yours? Does it still work here?

[It would be foolish to brag and overestimate oneself in a place like this. Somnus trusts Quentin to exercise proper judgment when he answers with words. They're all adults here.]

The effects of certain spells have changed.

[And he's been wondering as to why.]

Is this unnatural darkness the cause?

Changed how?

[All Quentin had noticed was the head aches and the nose-bleeds. How none of them ever made any light, even the ones with fire. Fireworks, all of it was just dulled down and not giving off light like they should.]

I don't know. Maybe there's a curse that prevents it? A shield of some kind. But really, most of my spells work just fine.

We're incapable of producing light.

[That's the gist of it. He's sure that Quentin must already know that much, if not more. For the most part, everything is intact but weaker in some areas.

People prospered once they wielded fire; however, they persisted before learning how. If they band together here, they'll be able to perform just fine. That's what Somnus wants to believe.

A singular word echoes in his mind.]

No matter the curse, we must deliver this world from the darkness.

[Giving a snort, Quentin just looks up and raises an eyebrow.]

Really? Why? Why do we have to do anything? I mean, sure, I want to help and it's not like I'm proposing that we just all up and leave or anything. But, really-- why should we owe anyone here anything?

[He exhales loudly, shrugging.]

What has this place done for you that makes you want to help it so bad?

Naught but grant me the lantern to move this flesh.

[He folds his arms. His existence persists after death, and for what? This, perhaps.]

What other reason do I need?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT LOG: THE NIGHT WE MET

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cw- suicidal thoughts, if you squint

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