logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: A MONSTER'S HERE

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: A MONSTER'S HERE

characters: everyone.
location: the mine
date/time: october 19 - 23.
content: exploring the mines and figuring out what became of the wild hunt.
warnings: explorations and threads might include body horror, gore, and monster horror.

i craft my words to fit inside your head, because no one listens to the dead.

It's been a wild few months. The remaining survivors of Beacon have turned their sights on the mine. The last known location of the Wild Hunt, though they haven't been heard from in quite a long time. Thanks to the help of spirits, the group has managed to rally and split off towards the mines to se if they can find out what happened there and if there's any of the Hunt left behind.

THE LONG TRAIL.

The spirits have helped repair a handcart located at the train station. Though, it's probably not fair to say that it helped the journey all that much. Most of it was completed on foot, taking turns pumping rusted old levers. It carried the supplies and little else.

The start of the journey goes well, until the ramshackle handcart fails at the bottom of a particularly steep incline. The group eventually decides it's better to take the time and fix it than leave part of the supplies behind. A few work on the repairs and the rest split themselves between keeping watch and getting rest while they can.

It ends up as one night along the side of the tracks. It's out far enough in the woods that it's integral to keep some of the group on watch. A few spirits will sneak toward camp, though thankfully none actively violent. They mostly seem to want to make away with what supplies the group has. Good luck chasing them back down through the woods if they do make off with something.

The rest of the group should catch rest where they can, though... Rest does not come easy. Dreams will be wrought with fears, dark and personal. Ripped from memories and subconscious, seeping deeper and deeper into dreams that almost feel impossible to wake from. Sleep will be fitful, restless — and when woken, by someone else or bolted up and out on their own, the fears seem to linger. Some might experience sleep paralysis, frozen in their own personal nightmare. Either way, when they wake, it'll be like those nightmares were real. Like they might just whisper around in the dark. Not even those remaining in Beacon are safe from vivid, terrifying dreams -- and the effects will persist for the entirety of the event.

THE DESCENT.

The group arrives at the decrepit mines a few hours after the repairs are completed. There's an eerie silence as they approach, though some might have an uneasy feeling, like there's eyes on the group shrouded in the darkness. Based on a memory shared by a certain spirit, the group is able to get the elevator in Administration functional. It's a tight, claustrophobic experience, only 5 or so bodies at a time. The mechanics whirr, then chug, then creak overhead... and shortly after the group will make it to the mines proper.

As the group organizes itself, the group will quickly be able to notice they are in an observation deck above the mines, and they'll note that there are a few general areas they can explore. The dead tunnels are a closed off, depleted section of the mine. It's noted as dangerous, and it seems as if it had been walled off at some point... but the wall is demolished, allowing entry. There is a very limited crew quarters, a mechanics area, a storage and processing area, and of course, the open mine tunnel.

If your character is inclined to explore any of these areas, please see the comment here. Remember, characters are welcome to explore these areas in top levels — however, to find plot information, a character will have to do a mini-explore.

HUMAN NO MORE.

The group doesn't manage even a few hours of exploration before the worst happens. Spirits suddenly come crawling free of the demolished closed mine — bloodied, eviscerated, emaciated and incredibly feral. The spirits are completely unresponsive to attempts to communicate, and will rend and attack to kill anyone that gets close. Characters can attempt to incapacitate over kill, but they won't be able to talk them down or communicate in any way.

The group will likely sustain some injuries in the fight, but one of the feral spirits spots the active elevator and soon, there's a rush for the cramped escape route. The spirits tear through the top of the elevator and rush up the elevator shaft, cleaving the wires that make the device function. It won't be going anywhere any time soon. The group will need to find an alternative escape route... perhaps there's another way out waiting to be found.

LET THE DEVIL IN.

The spirits swarming in the mines (and escaped to the surface) seem to possess some of the abilities usually only seen in green eyed spirits. They can slip into the subconscious of characters, pull out ugly things better left buried. Fears will come alive unbidden, and there's no way to know they're not real. How this happens can be different for whoever experiences it. For some it's like a waking memory — for others it's completely inside their head and they're catatonic until they wake. It can be limited to a single character witnessing their ugliest fears, or it can drag everyone near them along into a tailor-made nightmare.

However it happens, characters will not sustain injuries from their fears, however, if they experience an injury in the nightmare they will have phantom pains left behind for the next week. That said, just because they can't be injured by the projections themselves, doesn't mean they're not in danger... because the spirits will take ample advantage of their impaired state, and attack. It seems they aren't even aware of the damage they're causing, only lashing out mindlessly and instinctively.

And since there are plenty of feral spirits that escaped to above ground, even characters in Beacon proper can still suffer the effects of fear share. They can be more limited if desired, or just as visceral and horrible as you'd like. However, characters above ground cannot apply for a mod-generated fear experience!

Character response to these spirits is important to the ending result of the event. If characters kill the feral spirits, or if they incapacitate and attempt to keep them contained, please indicate that in the toplevel here.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You're right, it's been quiet since your party returned. Which is welcome, the things I was seeing, I wouldn't want to relive."

He shudders a bit, not wanting to think nor talk about it.

"It wasn't just myself either, I think some of us were seeing other peoples visions. Someone else's hallucination." There's a clench of his jaw because if there's one thing he hates more than anything it's the guilt of seeing someone else's private thoughts. It was like seeing their deaths through the graves but worse because he had no context for what was happening.

For a moment, he hesitates. He can tell Kuai is anxious, uncomfortable just recalling the event. Hell, Rosinante would love if everyone would forget the whole thing just in case someone is hiding their new hatred for him.

But curiosity and concern for Kuai and the others here drives him to press anyway. Gingerly, quietly, he asks, "What did you see?"

Kuai is a terrible liar, he rarely tries but when he does it's a pathetic attempt and even he realizes it. He knows Rosinante will see right through him even if he avoids the question. So he tells the truth, even though he doesn't like what it means.

"You. At least I think it was you, but you were much younger, and hiding behind trees in the forest." He rubs the side of his face as he tries to remember more, "Running from something, but I could never figure out what - and whatever this impersonation of you was, you didn't seem to be able to see me. And then there was..."

He trails off, not really wanting to talk about what he'd experienced of his own past. "A very long time ago, I killed a lot of people, but I don't remember it. Somehow I saw myself do it. Again, and again."

Not wanting to talk about the past makes two of them. Rosinante cups his jaw in his hand, frowning deeply at both of those visions.

That Kuai has killed a large number of people doesn't especially surprise him. It's the sort of thing that leaders in a time of conflict often have to resort to, whether through direct action or delegation. The good ones, such as Kuai, take no joy in it, but understand that there are times when people will not stop unless lives are lost and the cost is heavy.

But not remembering it? And now, rewatching it over and over? The guilt must be crushing.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I can't imagine what that's like. The green-eyes have a way of bringing us to our lowest. When I saw you in the tunnels, and everything surrounded by ice - is that connected, like some of these visions seem to be?"

Much as he does not want to further injure Kuai, he wants even less to talk about himself, so he presses. But he knows what Kuai saw of his past is an obvious loose thread and if this gets turned around on him, he won't blame the man for doing so.

"They seem to know exactly the right things to shake us, whatever secrets we keep locked inside, pulled out in the open for all to see. Is it just to torment us? Or is there some deeper reasoning there?"

The questions are rhetorical, but he is honestly wondering what the point is. Are they trying to drive them insane while sowing dissent among all of them when they find out their friends and neighbors have some deep dark secrets? It doesn't seem like it's for some more benevolent reason like forcing them to confront their perceived weaknesses and grow stronger from it.

"It may be. Was there a city in the ice or just tunnels?"

He'll get back to inquiring about the little kid he saw in the forest after he stops being thrown by the fear that someone else might have also seen the horrors he wrought.

"I was... Let me think," he says, cutting himself off. He was so out of it at the time with paranoia beyond what's healthy and such a mix of other's visions that he actually does need a moment to recall what he thought the real details were. It just doesn't seem productive to admit to how bad a place his head got to in that time.

But shortly he nods, frowning. "There were shapes in the ice I took for stalagmites, but we were in a mine, there were no natural formations like that. Buildings, visible through the walls sometimes. You in the middle of it all, or something uncannily like you, but I've never seen a look on your face like that."

Not just ready to fight, but truly ready to kill.

"It was a town, I decimated it. Along with everyone in it." Brow furrowing, his voice is normally monotone but it's far more subdued than usual. "I was possessed by a god obsessed with blood sacrifice. I don't have any memory of it, it was my body but I wasn't conscious. Even still, I have much to atone for."

He blames himself, for everything that happened, some of which he still doesn't know about. But he'll keep trying to make amends for eternity.

"I'm not sure how they were able to pull that out of my memories, when I don't recall it."

"They were capitalizing on our fears. For all I know, what they showed me wasn't at all what it looked like in reality but rather how you imagine it looked to others."

But that's just a guess. The spirits as a whole are all capable of things he wouldn't have thought possible, and maybe they're able to access parts of Kuai's mind he isn't even aware of. That's just as likely, and maybe even more horrifying, he realizes with a grimace.

"I'm sure me telling you not to blame yourself doesn't help, but. It doesn't sound like you should. You weren't you, you had no control." And how deeply nightmarish that must be, knowing his flesh and blood was used for a massacre he had no way of stopping.

"Possible, and likely. What I saw might not have been you at all either, though I'm fairly certain it was supposed to be."

Even if he hadn't recognized the child as Rosinante, there was the undeniable sense that it was him. Not that he'd managed to interact with the manifestation at all, though he'd tried.

What Rosinante says is something he's heard many times, from enemies as well as friends. So he simply nods in acknowledgement of it without commenting. He'll always blame himself and think he has something to atone for. Though the sentiment is appreciated.

Right, what Kuai saw. He should probably address that, at least so his dodging of the topic isn't so blatant. Kuai would let him off if he insisted, because Kuai is a good man. But there's trust between them that should be strengthened, not strained.

"I had a lot to run from as a kid," he sighs. "So if that was supposed to be me, I believe it. After my mother died, and after what happened with my brother and father, I didn't have anyone to turn to. The people on the island we were on wanted us dead, so it was run and hide, or get caught and get killed. No surprise you didn't manage to get close enough to see for sure if it was me."

Kuai was half expecting him to avoid it, and he wouldn't blame him - he hadn't wanted to explain his own memories either. Unfortunately it seemed that everyone here seems to be bonded by traumas long before they arrived.

"That's unfortunate, but it seems we all have demons in our past to run from. That's no life for a child though. "

Says the man who spent hours every day as a child being molded into a brutal warrior. He's not someone who even knows what a normal childhood should be. Unfortunately he also knows how Rosinante died, and his relationship with his brother so he knows how things turned out eventually.

"Its unfortunate we had to confront these things again. So much of our lives that we'd rather not dwell on and this place seems to delight on making us relive it."

No life for a child indeed. He recognizes just how fortunate he was to survive those hellish years.

"It's always the green-eyes," he says. "I never could work out if they feed off our fears or just enjoy hurting us. More and more it feels like the latter, though." And what a miserable existence that must be, especially if they have any shred of humanity left in them, enough to reflect on their own actions. But there are plenty of people who get joy from harming others, he knows, so maybe the idea of a green-eyed spirit wracked with guilt is just fantasy.

"I agree, it seems to be malicious for fun." Having been here for a year and interacting with numerous spirits, he genuinely doesn't understand what they think is fun or why they do anything. Even the harmless acts the lesser spirits do, tossing cheese around, painting pinecones, their little holidays they seem to have, none of them make sense.

But he supposes they don't make human sense, they're probably all perfectly sensible to a spirit. Briefly he wonders if the members of the Wild Hunt now understand all of that.

"What do you suppose happens to them if we defeat the World Eater? Do you think they die along with it, or are they freed to go about their lives? Or well, deaths, as it were."

"Don't know. I thought I heard Weaver say something about them disappearing if this place comes back to life, but I don't know if she's right. Dr. Solis probably knew," he sighs. Losing her and all her knowledge probably set them back farther than they could ever have known and left them all fumbling for answers.

Though in their defense, he thinks they've done a decent job of that. It helps that each one of them is skilled, driven, dedicated, or just generally good at working together with everyone else. Knowing what little he does about the last group, it obviously could have been much worse.

"I guess if they do all die, or, whatever you'd call it at this point, maybe they're okay with that. 'What's death to a dead thing,' right? They threw themselves at the aurora with smiles on their faces."

"True." He almost shudders, still unsettled by that. Now that he knows more about them and their lifecycle of sorts, he understands, but that doesn't mean it's any better to witness. "The fact we can still die, that they can still die, proves that death still matters; even to a dead thing."

It matters a lot actually, why bother to save the world if death doesn't matter to those that are already dead? That's the sentiment of the Wild Hunt that wanted to give up and let the world eater win.

"I suppose we'll see. For their sakes I hope they survive it. If that's the case they might even help us somewhat."

Ever the optimist.

Death matters to him, certainly. Maybe now more than ever, with so much to gain from survival. Law is here, and they're finally together like they ought to be. Will is here, and Will gives him more strength and courage than the other man will ever know. Their lives are all worth protecting.

So he nods, agreeing, and likewise hopeful that the spirits do survive - or at least that they get whatever they want out of this afterlife.

"We'll see. They've helped us a lot already, so whether they do at the end or not, I'm grateful."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT LOG: A MONSTER'S HERE

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