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logsinthenight2019-08-18 05:06 pm
inthenightmods) wrote in logsinthenight2019-08-18 05:06 pm
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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no subject
[it’s starting to thin out. He realizes he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere or maybe something is seriously wrong. But he isn’t about to let his mind settle on it. Especially not after Bizarro and Artemis.
He refuses, because he’d made the decision to tell Dick to fuck off.
(And if he was stupid enough to get killed— ]
They’re just pretty damn handy against spirits, magic, whatever. Better than wasting my bullets if I don’t have to.
[and then he stops, listening,]
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(as long as it's nothing that's going to put them — them, as a collective, as a town, not just him and jason — in any more danger.)
—bullets. so jason's other weapon of choice was a gun, which— eh, not peter's favourite, if he's honest. effectiveness aside, he's glad that jason's got an alternative simply because the noise would only serve to broadcast their location.
his next question, then, had been going to be: so where are you heading? but it's cut short by the sudden, sharp pain at the base of his skull that signifies nothing good is about to happen. it's punctuated by a wince and a glance over his shoulder (it'd be nice if it served as gps, but alas.) ] There's something—.
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It’s one spirit. He can’t hear others, but he can’t see it either. And he has to spend time hacking at his leg to free it.
(He fucking hates when this happens— it’s the most obnoxious.)
Hopefully, Spidey’s doing better than him, so of course he’s gotta ask,]
You okay?
no subject
(ugh, god—. this is why he hates magic and this really hadn't been what he'd wanted when he'd said he'd wanted something to distract him.)
another kick is punctuated by twists, then webbing to the spirit's eyes, although now that he takes a second to think about it, peter's not sure if they see in the conventional sense—. ]
—Peachy. [ he answers. ] I'd missed fighting— [ breath— ] for my life in between existential crises. [ gyah— THIS SPIRIT—
okay. webbed to a tree. ] This is just like being at home.
no subject
Jason cuts himself free and straightens, quickly regaining his balance. it's quiet for a moment as he takes appraisal of Spidey's web work. assuming the spirit is actually caught? Not bad. He even looks a little impressed, though it's impossible to see under his mask. but he can see it in his posture.
maybe.]
Speak for yourself on the "home" bit.
[he starts to say something else, but then the dark vines that had grabbed him earlier shoot up again, wrapping themselves around one of his arms, and Peter's legs and arms as much as possible, and immediately start trying to pull them under.
luckily the ground still seems pretty solid but that is a lot of sudden downward pressure-- and those grips?
gonna leave marks.]
Oh for the love of--
[one of his blades disappears, but he has the other still.
it seems to be really effective against these guys.]
no subject
they're stronger than he'd expect and they have his arms, which means there's a little less direction than he'd like, but it doesn't stop him shooting upwards and hoping that he hits two solid(ish) tree branches to be able to pull himself up and out of their — grasp? (can you say grasp when it's vines you're dealing with—? clutches?)
—at least jason has that sword, huh. ] —Look, I don't want to put pressure on you, but— [ oh, hey, one leg is almost(?) free— ] I don't know how much more web fluid I've got.