EVENT LOG: A GIRL, A BOY, AND A GRAVEYARD

[nextnightmods]

EVENT LOG:
A GIRL, A BOY, AND A GRAVEYARD

characters: everyone.
location: Helix Station; Solis Labs; Bonfire Square
date/time: February 14-22
content: Preparations are underway for what may be Beacon's final battle, while remaining forest spirits do their best to spread love and cheer. See details here.
warnings: n/a, mark threads as needed

Much remains to be done, and time is of the essence. Somewhere in the darkness to the east, Beacon's greatest threat to its remaining life moves. Will you be ready when the time comes? Will you have made time to let those around you know how much this second shot at life has meant?

helix station

Weaver bounces from group to group, checking in on people. "Anything you need help with? Let me know," she offers - whether that's a hand to hold some part you're trying to weld, or assistance operating the portal to pull in some specialty materials.

You have all the station's resources at your disposal, and backup and escape plans to make. Which is the priority, though? Is it something you even all agree on?

And what is that low, barely-audible buzzing drone? It pulses in and out of detection, settling into your skull. The station's machinery keeping the heat on and the air moving have their own constant drone, but this is different.

Feel free to address Weaver in your replies if you like. Note that any remaining spirits in the station (such as the large one wearing corpses, or any that might have turned up later) have become less-predictable and prone to lashing out in aggression when they're not trying to hide from you.

solis labs

Clara busily retrieves documents and samples as any are requested. While she doesn't know how to work a computer, she does generally understand the file system and is eager to point you to where you might read up on previous portal and lantern tests, find coordinates for worlds that might host key materials, or just enjoy some vintage poetry in the library upstairs.

A pair of badger-like spirits snuffles through the labs, eyeing you and your friends nervously. They don't seem much interested in conversation, but they will stick their noses in anything - your drinks, your sleeve, your ear if you're not careful, and their noses are cold.

If two or more people head outside together for a few minutes, they'll hear a stilted growl and a flash of green eyes in the trees - and then an attempt at a word.

h̶͈͝ẻ̴̢̛͖l̷̛̜̝̉p̴̓͝ͅ

Note that as stated on the ooc post, engaging with the green-eyed spirit carries the risk of violence and death, as always. Do so at your own risk.

stick by me and i will stick by you

There may be defenses to be built, weapons handling to teach to those few remaining who want to learn to defend themselves better, and general plans to make. When the World Eater arrives, who will be on the front lines to try and delay it while the bomb is made ready? Who will defend the rest from any spirits bent on following its instructions to slaughter every one of you? If things go south, how will you make your way to a portal to escape, and who will operate it?

Meanwhile, spirits hand out their cookies with chirps of encouragement. It's not all doom and gloom, they insist - they believe in you! And they want you all to believe in each other, to feel a little lighter and happier, if only just for a short time. The messages on their heart-shaped cookies (the whole candy heart concept didn't quite land right, it seems) are all a little odd and who knows what they do, but it all seems to be in good fun.

Feel free to decide for yourselves what the heart effects are, how long they last, if you can have more than one at a time - so long as they generally follow the ideas on the details post.

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Comments

Bucky/Soldat | OTA

[worthallthis]

I. Helix

Soldat is kind of concerned about the local spirits, actually. They'd been shy before, but able to be soothed with snacks and origami. They'd been gentle. They bring plenty of food and paper and after finishing some task for Weaver, and after settling as many extra torches as the rest of the town could do without in the safest place they can find, goes looking for the spirits. They settle down somewhere they found them last time and waiting, food out and slowly making little paper shapes for them, singing soft welcoming, come-find-me, please-talk-to-me phrases.

Even the corpse-wearing one would be welcome. They're practically friends, right? Besides, by now, the smell is probably all but gone, the bodies hopefully desiccated by the recycled air and low humidity down here, rather than really rotting... hopefully.


II. Cookies

Because the local spirits are honest about it and so certain they're positive effects, Soldat takes a break from their self-imposed project of copying out the majority of Beacon's history and understanding of what happened to seal into sturdy jars and store, to try some cookies. "Maybe I can help you with the next batch," they offer with half a smile.

And then for the rest of each day they try one, while they sit in the Invincible on their off-hours between meals and patrols and write, seal jars, and listen to quiet music, they might also be getting up every few minutes to find a spirit or a passing Beaconite to ruffle hair or grip a shoulder, or swing them into a dance if the song's beat is right-- needing to test and expand their comfort with touch. Maybe they beckon people over: "Sit with me, talk to me while I work." Maybe they're not even writing, they're recording onto Sora's old tablet: spirit language with direct translations, to seal into another jar for any future generations, because they need to talk and this seems like the best way to do that. Maybe they're distracted, staring off into space with chin in hand, thinking about Steve or Becca, or Sora or Crowley, or Ellever. Happy memories of people they've lost.

One memorable day, their hair turns bright gold with white tips, and the metal arm shifts to match, burnished with white filigree. That's a funny one. Another memorable day, Sarge is out all evening, because the cookie apparently swapped them and they can't switch back until it's been fully digested. "Ugh, this is awful," he grumbles, trying to focus on the work and failing.


III. Patrols and Searching

Though their patrols don't last as long as they did for a while, there, while they were desperately searching to lost lanterns, Soldat does take them at double-time these days. Both against the cold, and to give themselves leeway to search a little further afield than usual. Lanterns, yes, they can't quite help themselves, but mostly spirits.

They're slowly disappearing. And they need to make sure they're disappearing somewhere safe. So they trot through the freezing woods at the edges of the explored, safe territories, forgoing snowshoes so they don't slow them down, sending out calls in the spirit tongue: "Looking for friends! Please confirm your safety!"

They happily bring other people with them, if those people promise to keep up. The buddy system is smart, too, but they won't sacrifice speed and distance for company.

All that work makes them super hungry, though. Sure is a good thing they don't have a lot of people in town anymore to share food with. ... Sure is a depressing thing, actually. They might be kind of melancholy if you find them in the kitchen adding meat and veggies to their ever-simmering siege stew and grilling up cheese sandwiches for comfort food.

II dat sarge

[callada]

"What's awful?"

Rosinante has to ask, of course, when he overhears. He's just walked in from outside, and takes a second to strip off his hat and shake snow off of it outside before closing the door. In the other hand he has a few cookies all gathered together - because they're mostly harmless, some are crispy enough to not be much like bread at all, and he's pretty sure Law hasn't tried one yet and won't without serious teasing and convincing.

He walks over to where Soldat is sitting, apparently up for hanging out a bit rather than heading straight up the stairs.

[worthallthis]

"This!" He waves a hand at the papers in front of him, at the dim too-quiet common room, the World Eater across the lake. "Fuckin' exhausting, being out here. Soldat's better at this shit than I am." (You're a sniper, too, Sarge, you ought to know patience.) "Shut up, Soldat, I can hate paperwork if I want to."

Sarge has clearly given up on even pretending he's not Soldat, or even talking to them. There's so few of them left, and most of them know already, and it's just not worth it.

[callada]

Wow. Well. Hm.

Soldat has more than once alluded to the other voices in their head, but Rosinante isn't sure if he's ever been so blatantly addressed by one. He glances at their lantern, just in case it looks off somehow, but if there's anything at fault with it he can't tell from here.

"You're not wrong," he says with deliberate calm while he tries to work out what's going on. "It's tough here. I gotta ask - if you're not Soldat, who are you?"

[worthallthis]

Aw, geez. "Sorry, I'm Sarge. Uh, the Sergeant, I think is what they called me when they explained the whole... not alone in here thing?" Sarge's memory is not quite as prodigious as Soldat's, and they'd only been kind of listening in on that conversation, anyway. "Ate one of those cookies, and now I'm stuck on the outside. Whatever you want to call it when I've got the body."

[callada]

"Sarge," he repeats, then nods. Yeah, one of the ones Soldat mentioned, one he's heard tiny glimpses of here and there.

Does he introduce himself? Is that ridiculous? It's still Soldat, really, right? Just an aspect of them that has some sort of life of their own? Well, since Sarge seems aware that Soldat has explained before, then Sarge probably knows who he is, too. For neither the first nor probably the last time, Rosinante finds himself wishing they had a doctor here who knew more about the workings of the mind, rather than just a book on PTSD.

"Nice to meet you," he settles on, and gathers up the cookies in his left hand so he can offer a shake with his right. This still feels sort of ridiculous but he's so far out of his element that he just doesn't know how else to react. "I'm Rosinante, but it sounds like you already know that."

[worthallthis]

"Yeah, I'm around most of the time, I see what they see," Sarge shrugs, slumping back in the chair and looking kind of tired. He's really not used to being the one up front for so long. (I'm sorry, Sarge. Ain't your fault, buddy.) "I know who everybody is. And most of what's going on. So I know this shit is important, I just. Hate paperwork, that's all."

He stops himself before he edges straight into whining about all the other things he can't really do, either. "Maybe I should take a damn break until this wears off," he mutters.

[callada]

That funny little commonality breaks through his confusion, and he laughs suddenly, then takes a seat there at the table on the floor.

"Paperwork, the one real fear of all field operatives. I do not miss it," he says as his chuckling subsides, then pockets two of the cookies so he can bite into one (WOOF HOOFHOOF, he notices briefly). Why not, they've all been harmless enough so far. "Dying probably got me out of a mountain of the stuff, all piled up on my desk for years just waiting for my return."

II. gimme a dance

[theimpatientone]

As Merwen finds herself swept into a dance, she laughs out of pure delight.

"Why, Soldat, you share such a good mood today," she says over the music. She doesn't know the steps, but dancing is universal to the human experience, so she'll keep up as best as she can. "What brings this on?"

[worthallthis]

"I'm pretty sure it's the cookies," Soldat answers, but they're smiling, so it can't be that bad. They've got one hand on her waist and another grasping hers, and they're swinging her gently through a waltz, rather than subjecting her right off the bat to the Lindy or something. And they are an excellent dancer, able to properly lead a lady who doesn't know the steps very well.

The webbed toes they have to be careful of. They're longer than most ladies' feet, so making sure they don't trod on them takes a little more thought than usual. "The spirits made them," they explain. "To cheer us up. I guess it's working?"

[theimpatientone]

The rhythm of a waltz is, fortunately, easy to pick up on, and after a few swings around, and a little bit of looking down at her feet as she goes, Merwen falls into it more or less, following Soldat along.

"A kindness," she says, laughing. "Is this how they dance on your world? It shares such fun!"

[worthallthis]

"Oh, Merwen." They grin, actually grin, at the statement. It's a goddamn waltz it's old-fashioned it's only borderline fun. "Merwen. This is one of the slowest, easiest dances I know. Didn't wanna scare ya right off the bat."

If she wants a Lindy, though, they will happily teach her a few steps, right here in the middle of the Invincible common room.

[theimpatientone]

Well, old-fashioned is relative. It's brand new for her!

"Do you think I can't keep up?" Merwen says, with a bit of a challenge and a bit of a laugh. "Am I doing so poorly at this that you need to treat me as a child?" Show her, show her all the steps.

[worthallthis]

"I didn't know if you knew anything about dancing!" they protest with a little laugh, and spin her out into a twirl. They'll be ready to catch her if she stumbles, and ready to pull her back in a moment later. "I'll show you some real dancing, then, if you're so sure you can handle it."

[theimpatientone]

"Real dancing, as though there were false dancing."

The spin catches her off-guard, and for a moment her feet are tangled, but she recovers quickly enough. No worse than trying to find footing in a storm. Laughing, Merwen spins back, without the grace of practice but still enjoying herself.

II Dancing

[immortalaccursed]

Ardyn is walking out of the Invincible --where to he isn't sure-- when a sturdy hand grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into a dance.

"Oh!"

Almost instinctively he flinches back and tries to shrug away but when he sees it's just Soldat he lets out a bark of laughter. Of course this isn't the first time he's danced with Soldat, but it is the first time he's seen the soldier so excitable.

"My, we're in good spirits, hmm?"

[worthallthis]

"Sorry," they say, sounding only vaguely apologetic, as they pull him back in for a proper spin around the common room inside. "Blame the spirit cookies," they explain, not without chagrin, but also with a smile. "I can't hold still when there's a good beat on my tablet. I'll grab a broom or something instead, if it's a problem."

[immortalaccursed]

"It's not a problem at all."

He tries to fall into rhythm with Soldat, but one leg drags slightly.

"But now I am intrigued about these...'cookies', was it?"

[worthallthis]

"The spirits made them," Soldat explains, and adjusts the dance to something a little less demanding, in deference for the bad leg. "They do different things. To cheer us up, they said. Nothing bad yet. Apparently the last one was making me want to dance."

2. Dye job cookie time

[paletteswap]

While Soldat may look pretty distinguished with the gold and white filigree arm, Kuai on the other hand looks a bit stupid with bright blue hair. Or so he thinks anyway.

His little leather hat he arrived with hasn't been worn in so long that he's not sure where it is anymore. Well that's not true, he knows that a spirit dashed off with it at some point and then came back laughing so he knows it's hidden somewhere, he just hasn't bothered to look because of more pressing matters.

So he is trying to ignore it as best he can, nodding to Soldat's new look, "From the cookies I presume?"

[worthallthis]

Soldat doesn't stare. They don't. Soldat is very good at not looking at people, so of course they don't stare.

They are also, however, very good at watching people without looking directly at them, and that is some very vibrant hair. They don't even bother with a "yes" to his question, because how else would they have gold filigree on the arm, and white hair? "Yours as well, I guess," they say instead, nodding in his direction and trying not to smile.

[paletteswap]

"Indeed." He sighs, looking elsewhere because if they don't make eye-contact then they don't need to acknowledge this at all. It's fine, everything is fine.

"The first I ate didn't seem to do anything, but they were so insistent I eat another and now.. this."

At least he can't see it when he's not looking in a mirror. So in terms of things that could have happened it's pretty benign.

"It doesn't seem malicious at least. That's an nice reprieve from normal."

[worthallthis]

"No, it's not malicious. They're trying to help." Soldat can tell that much. Sometimes the spirits aren't great at figuring out what exactly helps, but they do try, and that's kind of them.

Soldat props their chin up on their newly-prettified metal hand. "There aren't that many left around. A lot of them are leaving."

[paletteswap]

"I've noticed that there's less but.. I hadn't really connected it. Do you know why?"

He figures if anyone would, it'd be Soldat who'd seemed the most interested in trying to communicate and understand the spirits. "It's something to do with the World Eater isn't it?"

[worthallthis]

"It is. The ones I asked said. They don't want to turn against us when it comes for us," Soldat says, more soberly. "We haven't won them as allies, they don't think they're strong enough to resist its call, but we've manage to keep them from being our enemies. That's something, anyway."