EVENT LOG: WHEN THE NIGHT IS OVER

[nextnightmods]

EVENT LOG:
WHEN THE NIGHT IS OVER

characters: everyone.
location: Everywhere
date/time: March 15
content: The World Eater arrives.
warnings: probable violence, gore, death; mark threads as needed

Everyone here was brought to Beacon for this one reason: to try and find a way to strike back at the thing that threatens to end the world entirely. You've spent the entire time learning, preparing, and for many, making this dead world your home. You've made friends with each other but also with the forest spirits, you've discovered much of the town's past and have set out to ensure its future.

This is the moment that every decision, and every person, shall finally come together, or be lost forever.

i feel the weather change

At the missile silo, Weaver and those helping her have been busy for over a week straight hammering scrap metal into place, wiring the controls to the launch system, and running new cables from the silo to Solis' lab to get the place set back up onto the Beacon power grid - a feat possible only because several batteries were recovered from the power station some time ago. Disassembled drone pieces lie scattered for easy repurposing, and networked tablets allow easy network chatter between the silo and anyone at the Helix Station who has offered to observe from the lake.

In the distance, those around the missile silo begin to hear an eerie droning hum. Weaver's eyes go wide and her ears lay back against her head. "It's here," she says with a shudder, then quickly bounds over to the control system. "That's the sound that the lighthouse used for the reset. If I don't need you down here, get up top, and get ready to fight."

At ground level above, the snarls and warbled growls of spirits call back, but immediately, there's rapid movement in the trees and some of those calls are cut short with a gurgle. Masked figures with green eyes dart through the brush, giving the silo a wide berth as they move in to fight, but those who would be allies must be outnumbered as aggressive forest spirits, both green-eyed and otherwise, break through into the clearing and seek out the people of Beacon. Their many-eyed leader has been kept occupied, but these ones are still looking to pick off every creature with a lantern. It's time to stand and fight before they make it to those still below, who are preparing to aim and launch the largest bomb Weaver has ever built. If this wasn't difficult enough, the green-eyed spirits are up to their usual tricks - you may find yourself suddenly fighting someone who looks just like your best friend, or perhaps your own animated, dismembered body - a cruel vision of what might soon come to pass. They are fast, they are ruthless, and only with the effects of the potions will you be able to shake off these horrible visuals, so make good use of them.

i hear the river say your name

Those at Helix notice it first - the droning hum that had first been noticed as a minor vibration in the hull swells in volume until it can be heard throughout the station. Thanks to the tablet network, they hear when those at the silo do that the sound is the speech of the World Eater - and it must be very, very close.

Inside the station there's little means to act directly against it; however, you'll find yourselves plenty occupied anyway. The little spirits (and the large corpse-wearer, shrouded in decaying bodies) that had previously been docile and had tucked themselves into hidden corners in the station scurry boldly out of hiding, with teeth and claws at the ready to devour and dismember anyone they find. And proximity to the World Eater once again has its effects - you may feel nauseous, disoriented, or despairing; you may find that it's hard to breathe, that your fingernails fall off their digits, or that sabotaging your fellows is the only way to survive. The potions help substantially, even if the effects aren't completely removed, so drink up, stand your ground, and keep an eye on those tablets to help let those at the silo know when to fire, and if they've succeeded.

Because eventually the creature itself is visible against the night sky over the lake, a void in the place where stars should be, and that means it's close enough to be targeted.

i watch the birds fly by

Soon, Beacon Square and the harbor as well as the general reaches of town become a dangerous place to be, but perhaps you feel you need to brave the run - to get supplies, to check on your friends, to flee and hide as spirits emerge to do the World Eater's bidding. There aren't many, thankfully - for those who care commanded by the many-eyed spirit are busy fighting those at the silo and the green-eyed allies, and nearly every friendly spirit seems to have gone missing. But alone and in the open without anyone to back you up if you need help is a frightening prospect, made even worse when you see the distant figure silhouetted over the lake, vastly taller than anything else you've seen since arriving.

The disruption from all the fighting must have delayed the launch, or perhaps something else went wrong. Just looking at the World Eater from a distance creates a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as it takes one long stride after another, drawing nearer to the town and singing that eerie song that drives the spirits to hunt you and to destroy everything you've built.

And then, suddenly, you hear something else. A counter-drone, a song like birds, like cicadas, like howling wolves and the strange whistle-warbles of the spirits, all merging into one. It's sung from every tree all around, and it drowns out that jarring hum of death.

The spirits so bent on drawing blood and viscera slow, and listen.

The World Eater slows, one foot raised into the air, then swings its head, seeking the source and finding it everywhere. And that's when it happens.

At the missile silo, Weaver has been successfully defended, but just barely. One of the spirits got to her before it could be killed, and a horrible gash has ripped through her clothing and the fur of her back. Her lantern is flickering desperately when she presses the button, and the makeshift missile roars and arcs into the sky.

From the square or the lakeshore, or for those watching monitors at Helix, the streak of vapor from the bomb's tail vanishes somewhere high above. And then moments later, it drops - landing not on the World Eater, but into the lake at its feet.

Rather than a blinding light, the tablet monitors go fully black as an intense roar and rush of water fills the audio channel, and the Helix Station shakes horribly, creaking and groaning as the rush of water from elsewhere in the lake strains every element of its construction. The noise and the confusing darkness persist for several minutes. It feels much longer.

But eventually, the darkness diminishes as stars shine through the mist and ongoing falling rain. There's still a tall column of water vapor in the air over the lake - it stays for nearly half an hour, slowly dissipating as powerful waves smash into the shore, triggering a small series of tsunamis that swallow the harbor and threaten, but never fully inundate, Bonfire Square.

The towering void has buckled where it stood, and only a few pitch-black spines jut out from the surface of the lake before they are slowly swallowed by its returning waters.

i see an emerald in the sky

When the spirits stop singing, the rain persists. Clouds billow up into the sky over the lake, and fall back down. The droplets are warm - warmer than the frigid air, than the ice and snow that surrounds the town.

The damage has been limited - most of the buildings still stand, for there were too few spirits that sought to attack, and those that did now sit in place or pace around curiously as if they hadn't just tried to tear out your intestines and dismantle The Invincible - which, actually, hasn't even seen a single scratch, as suits its optimistic name.

Many of Beacon's people may be injured, and many may be dead. But those whose lanterns still burn bright now find themselves in a slowly thawing world, as the deep and endless winter seems ready to launch into a new spring. Cautious and curious, spirits watch from the trees, then point out at the lake and chitter with excitement.

There is light in the water. It funnels upward from the foam left by the bomb, and with each ever-gentler wave, it touches the shore. And in a few tiny patches of sand, sheltered between rocks, green grasses begin to sprout.

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Comments

[donttalktome]

He tenses up a little at the arm; his chest still hurts like a bitch. But of course Rosinante doesn't get anywhere near the injuries, and tensing up just makes them hurt more, so he tries to relax. It helps to reach over and grab for Rosinante's hand with his own.

"Well, there is always the inevitable heat death of the universe. Probably all universes. Entropy and all that. So I suppose we don't have infinite time." He always has to just pick everything apart, doesn't he?

"But you're right. It's no different from being alive in the first place, just continue on until you can't anymore." Whether that's because your body dies or because your will to live does, but he doesn't voice that part. He's not giving up anytime soon.

"After all, we still have quite a lot to do." Sailing, sure, but other things too. Now that the existential crisis portion of this thought train has passed, his hedonistic, survivalist brain is almost giddy with the idea of infinite lifetimes to try infinite things. Learn infinite things. Try infinite experiments. They could basically become gods and— let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet.

[callada]

He feels Will tense, of course, but he's gentle and careful. For all his clumsiness, he can absolutely be delicate too, and he waits a cautious moment to make sure Will is all right and that he hasn't done something stupid by mistake. The hand on his is all the reassurance he ends up needing, and he chuckles softly against Will's shoulder when he starts talking about things like heat death and entropy.

"Lots to do, lots to see. I still want to know if anyone else in this world survived. Gotta be a big place, right? What if Dr. Solis wasn't the only one who had come up with a way to get around death? Maybe we'd never be able to get to them, but with things like computers and radio..."

Yeah, he's not actually sure if that's realistic, he's the wrong person of the two of them to have a clue. But it sounds nice.

And there are plenty of smaller things to experience, too, that he's looking forward to. Being in a relationship, working and traveling and having fun side by side with someone he loves, that comes with all kinds of joys he's never really had the opportunity to savor before.

[donttalktome]

Will shrugs and then instantly regrets it. So much for worrying about Rosinante accidentally hurting him, he's going to do it plenty himself.

"I suppose it's possible. Everything we've found suggests they had ample time to prepare. Perhaps we'll stumble upon a cache of frozen people." Horrifying thought, actually. "Or maybe something more like the Wild Hunt." Holed up in some mine shaft is a lot more palatable.

"It would be nice to know we're not alone, but even if we are—" A whole cascade of silly, stupid things come into his mind, like at least we have each other. He holds them under the proverbial water until they stop. "We'll be fine."

It is nice to know he's not alone, though. A strange thought considering how often he's wanted to just push everyone away, burn his bridges and escape from all human (or non-human) contact. But this, well, this he could get used to.

[callada]

Frozen people makes him grimace just a little, but yeah, it's realistic enough and he's seen worse here. Just a bummer. The Wild Hunt, well - something like that anyway, that could be all right. It would give them someone more to talk to, to compare ideas with, and hopefully they wouldn't all be bent on the end of all life as some kind of preferred outcome. If they are? Well, too bad for them. The little, weak bit of daylight out there is a promise that more will come in time.

Will's sentiment has him smiling again soon enough. It's true, and it's sweet. "We'll be fine," he echoes in agreement, and gives a gentle squeeze of his hand. The two of them will be fine, but so will everyone else who pulled through.

"We've made it through all of this, so we can probably make it through just about anything. Whatever comes next." He'll leave it just as ambiguous as Will had a moment ago whether he means all of them, or just the two of them. He thinks both are good interpretations anyway.