logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: HUNGER AND THIRST

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: HUNGER AND THIRST

characters: everyone.
location: around beacon.
date/time: september 19-30.
content: some new friends - or enemies? - seek offerings, and offer something in return
warnings: memories may involve violence, death, grotesque body horror. please cw as appropriate.

pining for the things i could have been.

Recently, the forest spirits have been agitated. The crooners, those that remain, chatter noisily and strut with purpose. The lunch lady hunches over their station and holds claws to their face, miming peering through dense brush. The skunk judge murmurs about the ones from the countryside. Word has passed beyond the reaches of Beacon's light - there are people in town, and they are mostly good this time. These lantern-bearers have lasted longer than most. They may even want to help.

Seems these spirits will have to see these people with their own eyes, and test those rumors themselves.

For the first two prompts below, please feel free to NPC spirits yourselves. However, if you prefer, you may post your toplevel under the MOD-CONTROLLED SPIRITS header and we will do our best to drop in and out with interactions as time permits. These are not intended to be one-on-one threads with spirits written by the mods, and you will likely not always want to wait for a mod reply at every step and may find yourself doing some minor NPCing all the same, but we will do our best to keep up with you and your thread partners who tag in!

In that header, please specify whether you want a friendly or antagonistic spirit, or if you want a surprise, you can always say "surprise me!"

ALL MY JOYS.

You come home to find spirits in your wardrobe, with socks on their hands and pants tied in daisy chains from wall to wall. Abruptly they squeak and dive for cover, or crash through windows in their attempts to escape. They steal things that are yours, only for you to find them days later, floating in the lake or buried in the greenhouse. Can you chase them down alone? Maybe you need some help.

Not all spirits are so troublesome. Maybe you turn up at The Landmark kitchen to find that one spirit has already gotten the coffee pot started - well, except it has poured instant cheese powder from a box of easy mac into the pot. But at least it's trying to help! Maybe you can show it how the machine works. Others wind up at Solis's labs where they thumb rapidly through books and peck at computer keys, and more than one takes samples from the shelves and shoves them in your face. Did you need this alien foot in a jar? No?

A pack of roving... branches? crawls around town. They have no mouths with which to speak, but instead vibrate and clack their many tangled limbs together. They grow in number and size, making a thicket of live wood that bars you from a doorway, completely fills up a section of the tunnels under the town - or makes an impromptu and convenient bridge, if you think that climbing on someone's limbs is appropriate. Is it?

Largely these spirits seem neutral, even benign. Confused. They might ask for your help, or try their best but they struggle to communicate even more than the usual forest spirits do. They have no sense of what your personal space is, though, and more than one will reach for a lantern to bring it closer and investigate. Awfully uncomfortable, so what are you going to do about it?

ALL MY GRIEF.

At any moment, the above interactions can go south fast if you meet the wrong spirit. The one who took your lantern? Decides to run off with it, leaving you gasping for air and with very few options if you are to survive. The branches constrict and crush you, or drop you suddenly in the river. Are they here to harm you, or just to test your limits?

Others will be malevolent no matter what. The scrapyard dog snarls and pulls at its chain as it watches the thing that stalks and hunts. A small herd of soft, wooly spirits crouch low to the ground, whimper and pant as if sick or starving, only to turn on you with vicious teeth once you seem invested in assisting. Better hope you have someone nearby who can help you fend them off. Or is it better to try to distract them and make an escape? Will they be convinced to stand down, or will they wear your face as a new mask?

ALL MY BONES.

You are directed by the local spirits to the dense curtain of trees where torchlight fades to darkness. The ones you are familiar with hang back, but nod for you to continue ahead alone, or with a friend or two if you prefer. The more people who go together, the stronger the connection - as indicated by the spirits grabbing at your hands and linking them together, and giving a very serious nod. Bring your offerings whether they be food, stories, gifts, or memories of your own, and hope they are sufficient. Place them on the forest floor, or hold them out to the air. The new spirits will find you, they promise; this is not a trick. Make yourselves comfortable on the damp, mossy ground and wait for the sound of footsteps in the leaf litter.

For this prompt, you are welcome to describe your arrival to the site if you like, but all that is required is a comment with the names of the people involved, and the offerings you bring. Characters can make multiple offerings and visit multiple spirits as many times as they wish.

Afterward, a spirit will lead you back to Bonfire Square and encourage you to tell others what you've learned from your new guests. No fair keeping the goods to yourself alone!

LEFT IN THE LONG NIGHT.

After connecting with spirits, you are led back to the bonfire, to recover and recuperate from the joining of hearts, minds, and memories. You will find yourself weary, in a way the flames seem to help. The glow of the campfire is comforting, tempting. It might be difficult not to fall asleep or try to draw others into enjoying the comforting lull of crackling firewood along with you.

The weariness does fade, after some time around the fire. You're not the only one resting from the experience in the glow of firelight — and there's likely things you've seen to share. Ideas and memories and pieces and figments of past to fit into place like puzzle pieces. Now is a good a place as any to share it, isn't it?

Lastly, those that approach a spirit in tandem will find an unseen consequence. A link between them that isn't so easily shaken by a short stay at the fireside. Characters will find that feelings and sensations seem to move from one to the other without warning. Fear, anger, mourning, resentment, joy, love. Touching makes the link stronger, but even distance isn't enough to stop it. Did you want to share night terrors, even a mile apart? Or to taste coffee, even though you're in the middle of brushing your teeth? Well, too bad. The effects will last for two weeks, whether you like it or not.

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"Yeah? Like all that makes them lose more of who they were?" he asks, though it's sort of rhetorical as he knows Soldat doesn't exactly have the answers either. It's an interesting idea for sure though.

He holds a palm out to the spirit to ask it to stay put as he stands and goes to collect one of the platters. He has a little mirror of his own for checking his makeup, but a larger surface would probably be a lot easier for the forest spirit to use, so it's a good suggestion. Just that right as he enters the kitchen, he manages to trip on who knows what and falls to the floor first, crashing his arm into the cupboards with a very loud bang.

But hey, uh, platters are down here, so he sighs and rubs his elbow, then opens the cupboard door to retrieve one, then goes back to the table with it in hand to show the spirit its reflection.

It's a shame he can't fully see what expression the creature might be making behind the mask - if they even do. Maybe their eyes don't widen, or brows don't furrow, like humans. But it sure does lean forward, then turn side to side, admiring the streaks of red down the sides of its very large mouth, and then says as much with a rolling chitter-squeak.

"Cool, huh?"

Soldat flinches a little, as much at the fall as the bang, but knows better than to ask if he's okay. Sometimes they wonder if Rosinante has the kind of healing they do, or if he just puts up with bruises and tiny bone fractures all the time. Maybe that's why he was so grumpy before Law got here, heh.

They get the veggies and their sauce in the oven with a satisfied clang of the oven door, themselves, and wander back out to Rosinante and the spirit. "Thank you," they say. "For helping keep them occupied. And thank you," they add for the spirit, "for your. Good cheer."

There's a lot of nuts to clean up, though, so they're gonna just get started on that.

"I feel like I should have thought of this sooner," Rosinante says, shrugging off the gratitude. He's very entertained by what he's got here in front of him, as the spirit admires themself from various angles in the mirror-platter.

"If somehow we manage to make this place safe for everyone, no world eaters, just us and some spirits, I could open a salon for them," he says, grinning. It's a joke, but might still be absolutely worth it for a day or so. Makeup is fun and it's even more fun to have such a cheerful participant.

"Maybe some of the regular residents, too," Soldat suggests with half a smile, crouching behind the bar with a hand-broom to start sweeping up nuts. "Sure somebody'd take you up on it." Somebody not them, because the idea of someone messing with their hair and face is... not super pleasant.

"They're always free to ask. But I'm no expert. Figure the spirits are more likely to let me experiment and not be too put off if something looks terrible."

Because look, he knows what works for him but it's nowhere near as complex or nuanced as the things Midge or Petra showed him. Their styles gave a more subtle result, but somehow seemed so much more involved. If that's the sort of thing people here want he could try to learn but he'd be starting from the very basics.

"It's not like I'd ever thought of actually doing this for anyone else before anyway. It's just a hobby," he says with a shrug as he watches the spirit and tries to figure out if there's more he can do. It's just hard with the mask, and he's not sure if painting that would be welcomed or not.

"So was cooking. Look at me now," Soldat says dryly. "Not trying to push. Just it's funny what things can turn out useful, yeah? Maybe world eaters like make-up." Now they're just being dumb, but hey, humor is a good thing, especially in the face of a very bad brain day.

They continue sweeping nuts back into the bag, and ask, "You did the memory thing? With the visiting spirits?"

Do world eaters like anything at all other than devouring life itself? Not a question that actually needs asking aloud. Dark humor is commonplace here, and so he smiles at the idea of putting eyeliner on one.

The spirit reaches for his tube of lipstick, so he lets them take it and inspect it, realizing it might get eaten. He has more. He can get more. Better to keep them distracted.

"Yeah," he replies, a softness in his voice that wasn't present a moment ago. "Law and Mary and I went. Saw the town from a hot air balloon when they were looking for a place to build the new power station. Seems like it's somewhere to the northwest."

But that's not what has him so content, of course. The knowledge is exciting, and the aerial view in broad daylight was a thrill, but inside he feels loved by the two people he went to see all of that with, and he loves them both in return.

"I'm probably going to go back later," he continues. "Soon as Will finishes up at the lab. He's been studying the lanterns."

Between Law and Mary and a new place to explore, no wonder he's in such a good mood. Soldat's new, hopefully-temporary headmates might be good people, but they're stressful. "You worked out the side-effects, then," they say, scooping the last of the nuts into the bag and propping it up against the counter. "You want Ingram in your head?"

"Can't be worse than Law," he says, chuckling softly. "Really, it's more about the information we've been getting out of them, anyway. And I could go alone, but given I keep telling people to stick together for safety, I probably shouldn't make myself into a hypocrite."

Yes, he wants Will in his head. He also recognizes he might be the only person in town who could genuinely say that.

"Side-effects were easy to work out. The hardest part so far's been sometimes I feel like I'm half my height for a couple seconds." As if he wasn't clumsy enough.

"Oh no. Or less than half. If it's Mary." They have to smile a little at that. What an awkward feeling! At least most everyone Soldat went with is close to their own height. "I'm glad that's the worst of it. I keep. Getting more paranoid. I think most of the people I went with. Have anxiety." Thank you, PTSD book, for giving him that term. It's so useful. "And. They can hear Sarge and the Asset, sometimes." And the Bottomless Pit. They don't think Rosinante knows about that one yet, does he?

"Your head must be a confusing place. How many people did you end up making offerings with?"

Maybe it's easier when Soldat is already used to competing thoughts in their mind, though, who knows. It certainly sounds hard, if the others have those sorts of problems of their own. Not that he doesn't, himself, but again, sharing feelings and emotions with Mary and Law ultimately makes them all feel supported. As long as nothing dire happens, the love outweighs the difficulties.

"Merwen, Reiju, Misty and Javert. And I'm going to make another, not sure who with yet." They haven't finished the cloak yet, or spoken with Pudding about it. "Might just be me."

Soldat wishes love outweighed the difficulties. Sometimes it does, when they're all focused on it. But not enough that it's not stressful a lot of the time. Still, stress is something Soldat is so used to they hardly recognize what it feels like to be without it. They'll manage.

"Got some really good intel, though," they add, picking themselves up to lean on the counter, waiting on things to cook, trying to enjoy a moment of respite. "And maybe made some friends."

Yeah, that's a lot of people. He raises an eyebrow, not sure if he should be impressed at the depth of that effort or just concerned. Probably some of both.

The spirit seems bored of the conversation, and has apparently forgotten about the nuts. It prowls off to another corner of the room, looking for someone else to startle, and Rosinante watches it for a moment, then shrugs and puts the makeup away. "Both good things to have around here. What did you learn?"

Soldat braces themselves for a long list, taking a moment to condense it into as few words as possible. "Where spirits come from-- they come from us. Lantern people. Scrapyard dog used to be one, saw them grow their mask. Saw failed attempt at killing a World Eater. Learned some about how spirits react to World Eaters. Saw an original, living Beacon person who thinks at least one World Eater was destroyed by bombs. Suggests either he was wrong, or more keep coming."

"Dr. Solis said she thought the first one was successfully bombed too, right?" Or was it Robin, or Pluto? He's sure one of them had said that, and he'd taken it as fact, figuring they wouldn't say such a thing if they knew it to be false. "So that backs up that claim. I guess I figured they kept coming out of the stars all this time. My whole thought's always been, we figure out how to kill the one here, or all of them if there's more than one. Let this world recover while we try and find a way to get the message out to other worlds. Tell them those things are coming, and what worked for us."

But that all involves a lot of assumptions, he's aware. Do the World Eaters come from the stars? The first had come through the portal. Maybe all the rest have, but when and how, and how many are there?

The rest of that is just as interesting, and a lot more concrete. There had been ample moments to realize that the townspeople had become spirits, that he'd become convinced of, but - them? All of them? Daylight, Five, Ambrose, Maes are all possibly still out there in some form as shadows of who they once were?

Well, that's horrifying. Especially given his current condition, and the fine cracks and dents in his lantern. How much more until he loses his sense of who he is?

According to what Soldat's gathered, the first one tracked her through the portal, but didn't follow until later... unless what followed Solis through was so very small it was unnoticeable and grew from there. Soldat couldn't work that out, how it tracked her, or how it hid itself. They're frustrated by it.

"Yes. We need to stop all of them." Of this, Soldat is certain. Rosinante has counted the stars, seen them go out. They need to stop them all. "Communicating to all the worlds. Don't know how we'll do that. Tracking down each world eater. Don't know how we'll do that. But we have to do something."

It's overwhelming. It's impossible. But Soldat at least has to try, even though they knew from the start they wouldn't have any idea how. They only have a vague idea now, and no knowledge of how to pull it off. They shudder once and put their head into their hands, leaning on the bartop.

They have more than once thought about Crowley and Aziraphale out there, as spirits, but they have consciously put that thought away each time. They're not thinking of that now, either. The World Eater problem is more important then their own grief.

"Don't know how we'll do any of that either. It's a problem for after we've solved our own, but I'm keeping it in mind. If Dr. Solis used the portals to discover other worlds, and if we figure out how sending things the other way works, maybe like that."

But, again, a later problem and he waves it aside with a hand.

"Or we send the nearest World Eater backward like that, or we escape to somewhere else. Those just delay the problem, but maybe we need the time. I don't know what it takes to make enough bombs to bring one of the huge ones down. Don't really even know how big they get."

Soldat still has their idea. They don't know if it's even possible, but: "If we could just. Track them all. Use the portal to dump them into a dead universe. Seal it up. Let them starve where they can't hurt anyone else." It seems like the only real way to not spend lifetimes at this.

Not that, frankly, they'd really mind spending lifetimes at this. But every time they attack a World Eater is a time they might lose, and then the rest of the universe will still be at risk.

"Sure. Sounds as hard as everything else."

Dark sarcasm remains the only way to get by here some days. Do dead universes even exist? How would one manage to track every world eater and move them all? But he's not going to argue that's any less possible than everything else he's suggested. It's all bad.

With Soldat apparently managing in the kitchen now that the spirit is fully distracted, and with his original question forgotten, Rosinante stands - or, well, falls out of his chair first, then stands - and sets the platter on top of the bar. "I'll ask around about what it takes to make one of those bombs. I like concrete solutions." And explosions.

They have to exist. Bad ends exist, and there's a universe for every iteration, isn't there? Even Sora said they did, and he's been a handful of universes. It's just finding one.

Soldat nods a little against their hands, then finally pushes up, themselves. "Yeah. Talk to Weaver. We should at least be prepared for the ones still on this world." An oh, how they'll hope for that in a couple weeks when the spirits come calling about the local one...

"Exactly. One thing at a time."

Sort of. One very big thing. But as he sees it, their choices are limited. He checks to makes sure his lantern is solidly shut after the last cigarette he lit, then gives Soldat a wave. "Enjoy your cooking. And your extra company."

"And thanks for the help." They turn back towards the kitchen, themselves, and add over their shoulder, "Come back down in half an hour, and I'll have plates for you and Law and Mary."

Then a smile, half-seen, and the tease, "Or better yet, send Law, so I can see if this happy of yours extends to him."

"Heh. I'll let him know it's his turn to pick up dinner," he says, chuckling softly. Law will probably not let on much about what's going on in his head; he's always been the more stoic of the two (and that's saying something, for sure). But maybe if Rosinante thinks hard enough about their shared adoration for each other he can pull a few mental strings and encourage a smile.

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EVENT LOG: HUNGER AND THIRST

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