logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: DO YOU REALIZE? PART TWO

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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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Threaded | Flat

[You can certainly go after it if you like, either while it's visible or after it disappears, but is that really a good idea?

Attempting to chase this forest spirit will come with all the same risks of an expedition. Character injury and even death is on the table, so please keep that in mind!]

THAT GREEN EYED MONSTER

[ The change in the atmosphere is immediate, and even if Vanitas doesn't know what the foghorn means, he can feel that tell tale crawl up his spine. One spirit's head snaps to look toward the forest. Vanitas, his gaze follows it— and he finds what he's been expecting this whole time.

Fear surges through him, visceral and fast. He feels hot all over, like his skin doesn't fit the muscle, it makes the back of his neck prickle with sweat. With his helmet on, it disguises the way his eyes go wide, the way his pupils contract— it muffles the sharp intake of breath.

He doesn't have time to stick around, and maybe it's just luck that your character passes him on their way to go after that spirit. His hand slaps out to the side, and he grabs the middle of their chest, stopping their momentum entirely. He's not a tall guy, but there's a strength in his arm that's surprising for his size. When he turns his head to look at the person, their face will be reflected back at them out of his helmet. ]

Do you want to die?

WILDCARD
[ ooc; feel free to use this for any other things we may have hashed out for event purposes, or shoot me a pm/hit me @

scrubdaddy ]

[Not even the pessimist buried inside Cao Pi could have seen this coming, what...what is that noise? The sound is unlike anything he's familiar with, but he can immediately see the effect it has on the spirits at the party.

Once the mayhem is in full swing, he goes fully into commander mode, pulling one of the two swords at his side (where he keeps his lantern, you know, totally normal to show up to a party armed!) and using it to direct people.]

Get inside, now! Fighters, to me!

[two options here: run, and he will help you, defending your back until you're safe inside. Fight, and he will be glad to have you at his side. It's hard not to notice that he seems to be acting like he's in charge, whether anyone wants to follow his commands directly or not. He does sound like he knows what he's doing.]

Edited (wow for want of a word) 2019-08-19 03:13 (UTC)

Immediately after returning to Beacon, Rosinante splits from Peter and Riku briefly with the agreement that they'll meet at the Invincible in a couple hours. Immediately, he can tell there are people here who need help and even though he's injured, exhausted, and low on ammunition, he'll do his best to help fight the spirits back and get people to safety.

After the announcement and after some time spent at the Invincible fielding questions about their successful but tragic expedition, Rosinante separates from the group to clean up and recuperate in his room. Find him there, or later the next day, anywhere around town trying to lend a hand fighting off spirits, help gather food and supplies to bring back to the tavern, and search for missing people hiding in the woods or abandoned buildings.

He doesn't say much and moves quietly, but if you look like you're struggling, he'll be there to help. And if you knew Winters well you might even notice his shotgun is slung across Rosinante's shoulder.

O N E.

[ this had been what winters had warned them about. venturing to that peninsula may as well be a death sentence. they'd all known it had been risky, that they might not all make it back, but there had been part of peter that'd been hopeful that it wouldn't come down to that.

this, he thinks, is why doc ingram had stated it was a terrible idea. though cautiously optimistic, peter hadn't thought it'd go off without a hitch and honestly, he'd have been more suspicious if it had, but he hadn't quite expected this level of—

—chaos.

when they'd — he, rosinante and riku — got back to beacon, they'd gone their separate ways. (they'll meet up later, they'd agreed — let the town know that they'd been successful, tell them the news about five, and about winters—.)

his doesn't need his spider-sense to tell him that there's danger, though it's there and doing an incredibly great and entirely unpleasant job at informing that yes, there are threats. he heads to the square where the party had been taking place first, lantern encased in webbing and slung over back like a rucksack. though he's mindful that he's going to run out of webfluid at some point, he's got enough for now.

(he thinks. hopes.)

the frozen spirits get ignored — they're not the danger, not right now. the hostile ones get his attention and though he gets it, he's interested in killing them. the webbing will hold them for approximately an hour, which he hopes will be long enough.

(it's long enough to get anyone in danger out of the way—). ]

—Hey! [ he calls out — there are a couple of shapes just ahead and at least one of them needs help—

the shout is punctuated by a soft thwip of webbing, directed at the less distinctly human(oid) shape of the two. ]

( ooc: feel free to encounter peter out and about trying to help deal with the spirits! if you want something a little more specific for this, just drop me a pm or pp. )

T W O.

— [ later, peter heads to the invincible as agreed. honestly, he's tired, he's covered in dirt and grime and blood and bruises, and frankly, all he wants to do is go to bed, but they owed the rest of the town this at least. after their post, peter sticks around long enough to be polite and to answer any questions directed at him before making his excuses and departing. ]

— [ later-later, after some well-needed sleep, peter (spider-man) can be found on the roof of the invincible. to avoid attracting too much attention, his lantern's been left in his room below, instead the only light being cast by the soft glow of his tablet. ]

W I L D C A R D.

( for any and all of the above, or if none of this works for you, again, just hmu via pm or plurk and i can write a tailored starter. cheers! )

Edited 2019-08-19 11:23 (UTC)

i;; a dance before dying.

Get behind me-!

[ stepping in front of someone who he thinks needs help, daylight extends his servo out and a bloom of crackling purple-white energy emerges from it. soon a force field protects the person he's with now, granting them protection for the time being.

daylight is feeling a lot of things right now; he feels tired and he feels nervous and he feels scared- he genuinely feels terrified since his arrival here to beacon. but, despite it all, daylight tries his hardest to lend a hand in the chaos. it mostly comes in the form of protecting others or backing others up, using his force field to protect those fleeing towards the exit or those trying to hold back the spirits. ]

We've gotta get out of this spot. There are- There are too many- [ he looks around, trying to find the closest exit and, to his relief, sees one: ] Over there! It's still open- Come on-!

[ so whether you're running away or teaming up, daylight is going to do his best to cover his companion with his force field generation. he knows he's wearing himself thin with every use of his shield generation, inching closer and closer to his limits, but daylight still pushes forward and marches on, most importantly, helps. ]

ii;; curtain call (cw: character death.)

[ even after all that's going down, daylight wants to believe there's still a chance to turn things around.

that's what he's been raised on after all: the impossible wins. the turning tides. the reversal of circumstances. long as you're willing to put the effort and keep trying to reach out, what you're doing will work if you try hard enough.

at least, that's what daylight is trying to convince certain folks in the chaos. ]

-We can talk to them! We have to talk to them! [ daylight gestures wildly to the spirits nearby, looking upset and tired. mostly tired. daylight has pushed himself too hard in creating the shields for others and he's paying for it now with his overworked systems, his taxed and laboured breathing between his attempts to convince his friend to hear him out. ]

They're our friends, remember? I'm sure if we try hard enough, we can make them listen to reason. We can't- We can't leave them like this.

[ ooc; this prompt is for close cr only. ]

iii;;; wildcard!!

[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. ]

[Jo had been on lookout, patrolling the forest and watching carefully. The first blast of the foghorn makes her freeze. She hoped that it didn't mean disaster.

She moved toward the path the connection team was using as the foghorn continues. It felt as if each blast made her heart skip another beat. She gets close enough to see the Bonfire just in time for the forest spirits to start panicking.]

Shit. Shit.

Helping hands
[The tension grows stronger as she approaches town. She hadn't gotten rid of the paper mask she had made at the party, and though it could be a risk, she might need it to get through the spirits safely. Before she can put it on, she notices someone in trouble.]

Hey! [Jo is grateful Rastus was able to get a shotgun. She isn't sure that it will actually affect a forest spirit, but it might be enough of a distraction for the other person to escape.]

Get out of here.

Extra points for stealth
[There's a large group of spirits between her and where she wants to be. It seems like being inside is safest. Most of them are standing still, frozen in place, but some rove the area looking for anything to attack.

She scans the area before reaching into her jacket. During the party, one of the spirits encouraged her to make a mask, and now that could come in very handy. She had watched the station long enough to notice what the masks did.

She slips the mask over her head and moves into the open, trying to move erratically and blend in. Hopefully, though, it's not too much camouflage.]

i. just try to keep your head above the tide

(OTA, cw: character death)

Once the Lighthouse team returned to Beacon, exhausted, dirty and bloody, they agreed to split up and reconvene again later at the Invincible. There was information to share with the community as a whole, but there wouldn't be much of a community left to inform if they didn't try to round up their allies and see that they were safe. There were friends to check in on, dead to collect and bury, injured to tend to.

Riku looks wrung out and haggard, with over a month in the dark only partially to blame. He's limping his way through the square, defending those who might be under attack. There's never an attempt to outright kill any of the forest spirits, not unless all other options are exhausted and another life (or afterlife) is on the line, and he sees no dishonor in helping someone escape without finishing a fight.

In the absence of conflict, he can be seen carefully stooping to check for signs of consciousness in the collapsed.

Perhaps those he encounters are in shock themselves or in need of aid. Maybe they're grieving a lost friend or in search of one. He's tired, beat up, but he's still a guardian of light and those habits aren't easily broken. He's around to lend a hand, to protect, or to bury their dead.

ii. and it's hard to know if all of this is real

(OTA, following the network announcement, at the Invincible)

There's an announcement to make and questions to answer. For the most part, Riku leaves that to Peter and Rosinante, aching like he's one big bruise and his ankle a steady, sharp pulse of pain, even when he sits. With little else to do, Riku tries to rest, occupying an armchair when all the other beds are spoken for, unable to sleep.

He watches the door, sometimes his tablet, looking for news until he tires of sitting.

Retires only for a short break, to avail himself of the bathroom, to wash off the grime and blood and change into something loaned. A pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, leaving his washed boots to sit upside-down near the stove to dry out. It means there's nothing to hide the bloom of bruising around his ankle that shows it for the sprain he has, but Riku's gone without a doctor's assistance for worse, and it still plagues him, in the creaky ache in his wrist that accompanies rainy weather.

iii. 'cause late into the night I find myself talking to somebody else

(Wildcard, want anything different from the above? Let me know!)

Edited 2019-08-21 10:54 (UTC)

i. this could get a little messy

[ his mission's complete, but now it's an absolute shitshow, and after the first dead body, he really wanted to find his brother, make sure he was okay. more than anything else. he'd been a dick to, well, dick. but that didn't mean he wanted him to actually get hurt. not that he thought he would, but there was a paranoid fear wracking his brain that "just maybe." he wanted to pass it off as just another symptom of madness.

but whatever, he could let that drive him forward to start protecting others.

when he wants to draw attention to himself, he fires his gun, striking attacking spirits in the back, the shoulder, the leg. when he needs to take something down quickly, he pulls swords from seemingly no where, and they rend through spirit flesh with relative ease.

and then when a spirit knocks him in the head and he starts to fall, he redirects his movement to undercut the spirit, finishing with stabbing it in the shoulder, pinning it to the ground.

he didn't come here to play. ]

ii. time to burn it all away

[ later, once the dust has settled, he's seated at the bonfire. he's reading something, before coming to the end, and closing the notes in his hand. there's a sort of quietness, despite the sounds of the fire. and his shoulders are tense-- eyes vacant and distant. he pushes himself to stand up, awkwardly favoring one side over the other.

and then he tosses the notes into the bonfire, watching them burn. making sure there's no way to just save them or question him.

see you later, dick. ]

I. Bonfire Square | Aug 17th, late evening

_{[In the silence left by the foghorn, the singing of swords pulling free from their sheaths marks M.K.'s take on the matter. And the first thing he does with them is sink one into the body of the first spirit to attack him--a small, lizard-shaped creature--and toss the body off the end of the blade.

He, for one, has no reservations returning the fatal favor to these spirits. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened, and sometimes he hates to be right.

More attack in the escalating stampede, a mindless frenzy fuelling their biting and scratching. Insect limbs and animal appendages go flying from several spirits in the middle of grabbing at people. He kicks another aside as it races up behind someone else, its jaws yawning wide. If someone were to spot him paused in the whirlwind of fleeing and fighting at just the right angle to the bonfire, they'd see--his eyes, normally brown, now black all throughout the sclera. Blacker even than their permanent night sky.]}

II. Bonfire Square | Aug 18th, morning

_{[Is M.K. finally getting his dance on, or is he practicing his figure skating routine? It might be hard to tell as he spins clear of several spirits pressing in on him from all sides.

Even in their rampaging, some of the ones that seem to best appreciate monkey see, monkey do see his evasive tumbling and appear to mimic it as they give chase, joining their brethren in pressing the attack until soon he has a small rolling, leaping, lunging, biting clutch of spirits mobbing him across the square.

He's heard there's a consequence for travelling too far from your lantern, but he's never experienced it for himself until now. A bulky accessory is no good when he needs to move unhampered; he'd hid the thing under a porch so he could fight unencumbered, and he feels the exact moment that tether stretches too thin. An invisible hook lodges itself in him, jerking him to a stop. To outside observers, it looks like a failure to stick a landing; a trip; a stumble. An uncharacteristically stiff movement for a dark one that profits off of pitch-perfect dexterity.

All his energy and the air in his lungs seems to fade with his momentum; he staggers against a table. And still the spirits come.]}

III. Around Beacon | Aug 18th, early evening

_{[It's been almost twenty four hours since the spirits' outburst, though you'd never tell from the movement of the celestial bodies (or lack thereof). His body can tell, though. He walks away from the party in a costume of gore from slain spirits, streaked over his armor, with weariness for a party favor. There are a lot more of the creatures than there are of them, and the lanterns make for a challenging hindrance.

Spotting light in the distance, M.K. stops and orients himself toward it, voice commanding.]}

_{[Not all of the blood on him belongs to the spirits. One had gotten in a fairly nasty bite to his leg, and lantern light cast downward would reveal scarlet blood still leaking through a hastily constructed bandage. He'd prefer to avoid a fight like this, but if the light turns out to belong to someone or something hostile, he's defended himself with worse odds.]}

Edited 2019-08-21 03:26 (UTC)

i. glamoured.

[ in her spirit disguise, clarke is able to move around freely enough following the sound of the foghorn that causes the spirits to first freeze in place, before they start to grow increasingly hostile. the growling and hissing, snapping of claws and appendages, seems to be directly in response to the sound coming from the lighthouse — as well as something else in the forest, that she strains her eyes to look at. it's barely discernable, but she can see two pinpoints of green light that might be eyes.

whatever it is, it seems to perturb the spirits further. it's only when the lighthouse's searchlight shuts off and the green lights in the forest disappear, that the chaos begins, and the creatures move around her and past her as though she's one of them as they attack the other residents. this is no longer a party — this is a bloodbath.

when the choice is kill or be killed, there is no choice. at the first person in mortal danger that she sees, clarke doesn't even think — she uses her glamour to get in close enough with her knife, slashing at scaly and furry bellies and severing animal and alien-like limbs and claws before they can be used to wreak havoc on any of the people she's come here with.

she slits a particularly gruesome-looking insectoid creature's abdomen from behind, as it's swarming over and attempting to gnaw on someone, and splashing herself with a bit of gore in the process. when she turns on the person she's just saved and sees the fear in their eyes, she feels the need to quickly reassure in a hiss under her breath: ]

— Shhh. It's Clarke. [ don't let on too loudly that it's her, else the spirits will overhear and her advantage will be stolen. ] Now scream at me, like you're terrified!

ii. glamourless.

[ it's inevitable that eventually her glamour will run its natural course — either the rubber band holding it to her head snaps, or the paper plate is torn — and once it's off her head, all protection is gone.

now the spirits are coming for her, as well, and clarke manages to fire off several shots with her gun to take down the fastest ones in explosions of blood and viscera. she gets between the residents running for shelter and the creatures rushing at them, barking out commands. ]

Get behind me! [ she has a very limited amount of ammunition, but she's going to make every shot count until there's nothing left, and go down swinging with the barrel of the gun, or her knife if she has to. ] Find some shelter! I'll hold them off as long as I can!

[ — which isn't long enough, because after a few moments her magazine clip is empty, and one of the frenzied creatures charges at her and leaps, knocking her down before she can draw her knife, onto her back on the forest floor as she yelps and wrestles with it. ]

iii. wildcard!

[ feel up to something different? hmu @ either pm or

spinebarrel. ]

Edited 2019-08-21 18:44 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

THE GREEN-EYED FOREST SPIRIT

vanitas | kingdom hearts | ota

DEFENSE GROUP 1

Cao Pi | OTA

Rosinante | OTA

peter parker → ota.

daylight vis lornlit. | original. | ota. + closed.

Jo Harvelle | OTA

Riku | Kingdom Hearts | OTA

jason todd | dc | ota

no subject