logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: DO YOU REALIZE? PART TWO

EVENT LOG:
DO YOU REALIZE? PART TWO

characters: everyone.
location: Bonfire Square.
date/time: August 18-19.
content: the party takes a turn for the worst.
warnings: violence, gore, character death.

"but if your lantern's too banged up to fix, you ain't coming back."

Late on Saturday evening, just as the party's hitting its stride for the night, the foghorn sounds. It's a frantic blaring, the deep, hollow bellows of the horn echoing over the trees in some approximation of a song, impossible not to hear from wherever you might be lingering this evening.

It captures the attention of the forest spirits, first and foremost. They drop whatever they're up to as soon as the first note strikes the air, and they listen. You listen, too, though any sense of understanding is lost on you. One thing is clear, though: the time for distraction is over.

•••
The tone of the party has changed, and not for the better. Before, the forest spirits at least seemed to be enjoying themselves, feasting and dancing, wobbling around and entertaining themselves. Now...

Now, the atmosphere has changed. There's tension thrumming through the air.

One's head snaps to the side sharply, focusing on something unseen in the forest. A few moments later, and others do the same: bodies locked in place, limbs frozen, they stare at something out into the darkness. Can you see it? Maybe. Maybe there's something out there... and maybe you'd better not attract its attention. Two pinpoints of green light, glimmering though no light manages to reach its body. It doesn't move, and neither do the spirits in town, but perhaps it's best not to disturb them.

A few aren't so calm. Mouths dropping open, the noises they emit range from low urgent clicks to desperate howls, but all give off a deep feeling of anxiety. Fear, verging into terror, claws digging into dirt and spirits skittering madly over buildings, limbs snapping erratically, the path of their movements understood only to themselves. They don't lash out at others, not yet— but there's a frantic energy to their movements which suggests something is wrong.

Good thing you're disguised as a spirit, isn't it? Although if you haven't gotten to that station yet, rotten luck. Maybe you better get to hiding, because right now it seems like the spirits aren't so keen on things that don't belong.

•••
Ah, but after that initial panic, the foghorn abruptly goes quiet. The lighthouse beam shuts off, too. The thing with the green eyes vanishes, and most of the other forest spirits have already fled or are still stuck frozen in town, but it's now that the others attack. Apparently not all of the spirits were won over by the party's attempt at diplomacy.

The hostile spirits attack with abandon, and can't be reasoned with. The only way to stop them is to kill them or detain them, although you could just wait it out and hope they move on soon. In any case, how you deal with the spirits is up to you. Feel free to NPC them in your own threads if you'd like to fight them or attempt to interact with the frozen ones, though the fighting spirits will continue to fight until dispatched and the frozen spirits won't snap out of it no matter what you do.

As far as what the expedition teams are up to, that's up to them. All expedition teams including the team that's with Winters are able to make it back to town to witness the chaos. What happened out at the lighthouse, though? The Winters crew will be sure to let you all know... soon.

And if you'd like to go after the spirit with the green eyes? Well, go ahead, but do so at your own risk.

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_{[He'd reject the word jumpy applied anywhere near him, but the truth is the spirits are a disconcertingly foreign type of enemy when he's only ever battled humans. He's careful to stay well back until he can definitively identify Javert as a man, one of their own number. An old man.

Ageism being alive and well in his world with its appallingly low life expectancy, Javert's age, more than anything else, earns him a tick in the Not Dangerous column, relaxing him a degree or two.]}

I thought you might be one of them.

_{[And it's probably better for all involved that he's checking--he's been alarmingly proactive with his stabbing, though he's moving slower on his leg of late.

Speaking of... he doesn't move at all while Javert addresses him, keeping his lantern held high so it only illuminates his upper body. A bloody pant leg is a bit harder to conceal than a wound beneath a coat.]}

Same to you. _{[The old man is implied.]} Why aren't you inside with the others?

( Of all the things that Javert hates about himself, his age is certainly not one of them. He's used to being disrespected for all sorts of reasons. Because of his heritage, because of his job, because of his social standing. It doesn't bother him at all, so he simply looks the younger man over and shrugs. )

Because that is not where I am needed. I will not hide myself until I am sure that everyone off the streets.

( He nods at the stranger, asking, )

Is that not why you are out here?

And what good are you to anyone if you get killed? Just another body somebody's going to have to pull from the streets. Can you even fight?

_{[The imagery is harsher than the words themselves. Honestly, he's surprised the old man's lasted this long when even M.K. is getting worn.

But like a horse resisting its bridle, he shakes his head, tossing off the implication Javert tries to hang around his neck. Irregardless of the fact he's out here, irregardless of what's true, he doesn't like the way the man frames it for reasons he doesn't look closely at just then.]}

I'm dealing with the spirits. If you want to make yourself a target, I'm not going to stop you.

_{[He'll fight the spirits that attack him, but he doesn't want to be known as some kind of community babysitter. Fighting for the common good? What is the common good? It hasn't aligned with his definition of goodness in some time.]}

( It's good that he clears that up, otherwise Javert might almost thought that he was feeling concerned about him. Being underestimated is one matter, but being coddled is far worse. )

You think I would be standing here if I could not?

( It's true, Javert's got the devil's own luck when it comes to keeping himself alive. Even when he begs for death, for someone to blow his brains out from three paces away, it doesn't happen. He doesn't like to fight if he doesn't have to, but he most assuredly can.

He moves a closer toward him, hand gripping tight to his cudgel, stained with spirit's blood. )

I will not insult you by telling you to go inside. But you cannot stay out here forever either. We do not know how long this will last. It may be better to wait it out, inside.

_{[Javert may rise above the opportunity to insult him, but the same doesn't extend to M.K. He looks tempted to argue, or at the bare minimum tear into the man's appearance, but seems to think better of it, conceding the point with an impassive sweep of his eyes over the cudgel. If barely.

He'd had a good teacher who'd taught him all the right lines to believing in and pronouncing his superiority over other people. In other words, Javert insisting he can fight in front of a dark one such as himself is a bit like someone bragging about their casual gym membership to an Olympic athlete. But he has to admit that the everybody else in Beacon comprises people with amazingly varied skills and abilities, of which Javert could be one.

Maybe.

Or maybe he's just an old man without any sense.

And maybe M.K. shouldn't care either way, in a land of the dead where nothing really matters anymore--not divisions, and not their lives.]}

I doubt as well as me.

_{[--Still, he wouldn't be him if he didn't make things difficult with a glancing jab even as he refuses to budge. Obstinacy, yes, but also he doesn't want to risk making the man's point by limping just now.]}

Hide like a coward? No, thanks. If I'm going to die again, I'd at least want to die fighting.

_{[And if he's blatantly seeking that fight out? That's his business.]}

( He's not supernaturally gifted, not in the way that other people in Beacon are. But he's stubborn, and fearless, and that seems to be enough to keep him alive, in spite of the spirit's best attempts. His fortune may not hold out for much longer, though, and that is why he frowns and continues to advance toward the younger man. )

Come now, don't be foolish.

( It's not as if Javert cares whether he lives or dies. He doesn't have enough compassion for that. It just seems like such a waste, to let him kill himself because he's too prideful to retreat. )

What good will throwing your life away do anyone? If you can fight as well as you say, then it is better that you live, so that you may to continue to help ward off these creatures.

_{[Compassion, he wouldn't believe. But logic--it's an annoying effective argument against pointless bullheadedness every time.

He frowns, both at Javert's reason and at the other's advance, as if he should've been able to hold the man in check with a couple of fierce words. He's balks at submission, even when resistance has no real advantage. He's been geared up for a fight for too long.]}

You can't expect me to do something you're not going to do yourself, old timer.

Who said I wasn't?

( He's going to have to try a lot harder than that to get Javert to leave. Insults and stubbornness aren't going to cut it, especially not when Javert's become so invested in winning this argument. Preservation of life, to him, isn't quite so important as the preservation of his pride. )

I will accompany you to the inn. There, I only ask that you rest and recover before battling the spirits anew. Is that agreeable?

_{[Word play and being told to do something, his least favorite things to weather, even on a good day when he's not exhausted, and bleeding, and questioning every road he was pointed down by someone else.]}

No, it's not. Because I don't take orders.

_{[But he does take a wall erected in front of him about as well as Javert--that is to say, by squaring his shoulders and lowering his chin like bull about to charge it.

"Die fighting" is true in just about every conceivable way.]}

You can go. In fact, you should go. More spirits could come any minute.

( Perhaps it will be both of them that die of out stubbornness, then. Javert may be one to take orders, but he isn't about to yield his pride to this incorrigible brat. Without warning, he reaches out and grabs M.K. by the collar. )

Do not make me drag you there, boy.

( He's right. More spirits could be coming at any minute, and it is that urgency that spurs him into aggression. It's not uncommon for Javert to drag children by the ears when he catches them doing something dangerous. This feels much the same, and Javert isn't going to apologize if he tugs to harshly on his shirt. )

I will not ask again.

EVENT LOG: DO YOU REALIZE? PART TWO

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