INTO THE WOODS ※ GAME EVENT

[wildestmods]

INTO THE WOODS

The faerie faire goes on into the evening, the faire filled with the sounds of revelry. For those who've spent the day there, the cool evening air is welcome respite from the bright sun that's shined all day. Those who still have some faerie gold might even want to invest in a cloak if they haven't gotten one yet, because it may get chillier as night falls.

As evening descends and various floating flowers start to glow to provide light, the spring faeries start to bring out night-time merchandise and amusements, like brightly-colored phosphorescent flower jewelry. Fireflies are charmed to blink in different colors and magical fireworks paint the sky in vibrant light. They're quieter than normal fireworks, but there are still satisfying snaps and hisses.

It seems like it'll be a pleasant night at the fair and those only just arriving in the evening will find a charming scene opening up before them.

But one thing that isn't noticed as evening begins to fall is the way the winter faeries suddenly slink away into the rising dark. Or at least it isn't noticed until it's too late. Some of the summer faeries start to react to it with alarm.

"Where did they go? The winter faeries are supposed to provide security, they signed an agreement. Go tell Ponto and get some faeries with warding magic to shore up the wards." Faeries start flying with purpose to speak to others that need to be put on security. "We can handle it ourselves but we need to get enough people out to the borders."

"Should we disperse the faire?"

"No, there's no sign of any threats and if we re-ward it, they'll be safer here than people scattering in the woods at night. Even if we had the bad luck to be attacked before the wards are re-done we can defend them with our magic - and we're contracted to."

Unfortunately that bad luck hits too soon. While the faeries scramble to re-do the defense wards, an unearthly fog rolls in. Terrible screeches start to rend the air, sounding similar to the screams of foxes. Warning bells ring from warning wards placed in certain areas of the woods.

"Nightrenders!" someone calls out and people in the crowd start screaming, gathering their loved ones closer. Horrifying beings start to pour into the faire and the hand stamps of all the people who bought tickets ahead of time start to glow. Faeries rally around those people, casting powerful defensive spells. Due to the panic, several stalls start to go up in flames due to knocked over cooking fires. Fortunately the stalls are small enough for people to escape them easily and spread far enough apart that they can be avoided, but smoke joins the fog in the air.

If a faerie sees one of the squad of otherworlders, and their lack of glowing hand stamp they're quick to offer a warning. "You have to run! The people who bought tickets ahead of time entered into a magical agreement of protection. The warding takes time to charge. We can do nothing for you, without slow-charge wards we're not powerful enough to protect you. The Nightrenders will devour your brain, or your soul."

Apparently that little disclaimer about not being fully protected that some of them read while coming in (for those that had arrived earlier in the day) was more important than it seemed.

The faeries always point the same way, still trying to help the people without tickets. "To the north! There's a place in a canyon with a large, glowing crystal. It looks like an abandoned market and dwellings. You'll be safe there, the magic of the Heartstone will protect you."

USEFUL LINKS

Setting Background/FAQ | Major NPCs


NIGHTRENDERS

The beings known as Nightrenders start amassing on the faire. Their movements are quick but clumsy, as if every one of their movements is made up of a hundred janky, smaller fits and starts, like they're made of clockwork. The faerie magic summer faeries use seems to do no more than stagger them back or temporarily knock them over, but at least makes it clear to the squad that they at least can be knocked over and slowed down. At the very least it seems to take them some time to get off the ground and back to their feet.

Attacks

They attack anyone they see in different ways. Some they wound with massive claws. Or they squeeze someone's torso and nearly suffocate them to give them a chance at possibly chomping into the heads of their victims to get at the brains. Most dangerously of all, they breathe in with a loud sucking noise, clawed hands guiding the magic that lets them drawn out someone's soul to devour it. It looks like a small delicate thing, sometimes in the form of a glittering star or a flower, as its drawn out of the victim's mouth.

This process can fortunately be interrupted if the Nightrender is attacked. As long as the soul hasn't been sucked into their mouths, it goes back into the victim.

Cursed Aura

But the whole thing is complicated by the magical aura caused by the Nightrenders. When they draw close, everyone around them is choked with fear, grief, and dread. Some succumb to visions of their worse memories playing out in their heads over and over. Some might be able to still stagger away in this state, trying to see through the visions, especially if someone helps them along, but others will find it nearly impossible to do anything other than curl on the ground. It is unknown why some don't have the flashbacks or can power through them more than others, though it's thought that those that repress their bad memories or negative emotions struggle more.

Anyone that helps someone who's having visions may get a glimpse of their memories - and empathically feel a flash of the pain, fear, rage, or grief they felt during the memory. If two people try to help each other move forward when both are having visions, they may transmit glimpses back and forth.

Weaknesses

The Nightrenders cannot be destroyed, only knocked down, or slowed down. However, those with "holy" weapons, spells, or powers, or those who have weapons, spells, or powers that can hurt "ethereal" beings or evil spirits will find they can cause them enough pain that sometimes they run away. Spells and abilities that create magical manifestations of good will and happiness, as well as spells of light, or purification can also harm them and drive them away.

THE SISTERS

The Nightrenders don't speak, but some have the misfortune of hearing two voices echo out of the fog. The come in stereo, only just slightly out of sync.

"Chosen Ones, you must be so confused. You've become lost in the forest, and the Dark Lord's nightmares already pursue you. Fortunately for you, our mistress desires your company. You'll adore obeying her will. Don't run, embrace a better destiny."

Two woman in white masks and straw hats, with cloaks made from the feathers of ravens, come out of the fog, body language almost identical. No eyes can be seen through the eyeholes of their masks, just darkness.

They start attacking, and when they beset their victims they stop speaking, refusing to talk or answer questions, instead filling the air with wild, mocking laughter. One wields twin katanas, the other a kusarigama with a painful claw at the end of the chain that closes down when it hits something.

Nets

While they're extremely willing to injure the squad they seem to be trying to capture them instead of killing (albeit capturing them after they're maimed), occasionally tossing out nets of glowing silver of moonlight. Being caught in the nets renders someone paralyzed and weak, a deep cold settling into the marrow of their bones. Some may even hear the shrieks of dying loved ones, whether they've actually died in reality or not. The Sisters apparently have the strength to carry even the largest of the squad in the air and will attempt to fly away when someone is ensnared.

The nets are difficult to destroy, but can be with great force of some kind. It has to be aimed at the part closest to the Sisters' hands, because the force required to break the nets would also injure those trapped inside them. The cold and paralysis fades when the victims are free, but some of the rescued may feel weak and need help staying on their feet. Unfortunately, even when they're broken, the nets of moonlight seem to be something they can recreate within several minutes.

Smoke Monsters

For some, they don't attack directly. Instead, one of the sisters pulls out a pipe and smoke monsters pour out of it. They try to drag their victims closer to the sisters so they can be caught in their nets. Fortunately, they can be destroyed with enough force.

While the Sisters seem impossible to injure, they can at least be caused pain with extreme enough attacks, something that makes them teleport away before risking any further injury.

PROMPTS

a) RENT
Uh oh, a Nightrender has you. Either it's squeezing you so hard you're suffocating and about to chomp into some juicy brains, or it's in the process of sucking your soul out through your mouth. In either case, you're likely broadcasting visions of your worst memories in small flashes to whoever is near. You're in desperate need of rescue and the summer faeries can't help - their magic is all but useless on the Nightrenders if it didn't have time to build by a covenant. Only others that fell into the Wilderlands like you did can save you.

(Feel free to provide multiple memory options ala a memshare, but keep in mind they'd only be flashes instead of a full memory!)

b) NABBED
The Sisters have got you, their smoke monsters are trying to drag you away, or you're still trying to fight them to avoid being caught. It'll be a lot easier if you have help - otherwise you're outnumbered and possibly outclassed. The only way to stop them is fight back hard enough that they feel you're not worth the effort and teleport off.

c) RESCUE
Perhaps you're not affected by the Nightrenders or are just good at powering through the haze of painful magic they're inflicting on the area. Either way, you're out to help the people around you. Perhaps you run into another member of the otherworlder squad that needs saving - or maybe they join you to protect a third otherworlder, or a denizen of the Wilderlands that also forewent a ticket and is therefore at risk. Unlike many of the people from other universes, many of the denizens of the Wilderlands are powerless and thought they were in for a day and night of safe fun.

There are also other hazards to rescue people from. Maybe a small child has been separated from their parents and is disoriented by smoke, in need of rescued from some flaming tents. Or maybe an elderly person has fallen and is at risk of being trampled. There are lots of reasons people might need help, due to fires, panicked horses, collapsing tents, and panicking crowds.

d) RUN
It's time to run! Perhaps, after some screaming and confusion - and teleportation - you finally grab a buddy and bolt through the woods. You better run fast because the Nightrenders and the Sisters may give up chase at some point but it may take time and moving through difficult terrain in the fog to lose them. Perhaps you and a partner have to help a third, injured otherworlder because they're having trouble walking.

Better head north like the faeries said. The faeries were right that this Heartstone to the north may be your only hope - and you'll have to reach it despite the fading evening light, skies overcast with dark clouds, and fog.

It may be easier navigating in the dark with a partner or two.

e) WILDCARD
Maybe you decide to do none of the above. Go nuts!

OOC DETAILS
❧ Quest magic: Players can handwave that the quest bond magic is tugging the group northward to the safe place, with the mysterious Heartstone. They can also use the quest magic as an excuse for many different threads. As the group tries to run, their scattering movements will affect the magic and cause people to teleport at random, allowing for many different encounters with many other characters. This can explain why two characters that might otherwise stay together through the whole thing might get separated.

❧ Network: The network can now be used. Mirrors can and do float if someone is trying to talk through one and running, and can follow someone as they move, allowing people to communicate on the go or during action. Feel free to start using the network in parallel with the log events.

❧ NPCing: The mods won't be npcing but players are free to npc the actions of bystanders, the Nightrenders, and the Sisters. The Sisters won't speak, just continue laughing, and players can npc their specific attacks, capture attempts, and teleportation. Please just don't have them talk or godmode them dying - they're currently a little too sturdy for that. If you have a question about whether/how something will affect them feel free to ask the mods in the first comment below.

❧ Environment: Feel free to manipulate the environment. There are things left over from the faire people can work with like bow and arrow sets from the competition, horses (which can be temporarily stolen, though we'd like to limit any that are permanently stolen to the (1) horse another player already requested), and even explosive faerie fireworks (they're quieter than the normal thing but still create a big bang). Abandoned stalls also have weapons and supplies to grab as people run for it. If they didn't think to steal or buy useful things during the day, please limit this to only grabbing one or two items as they run, like a cloak or sword. They won't have time to loot for more.

❧ Experimentation: We'd like to encourage people to experiment! Obviously ask other players if they're down first, but it could be fun to do something other than 2 person threads, like maybe 2 PCs banding to rescuing a 3rd. Players are also encouraged to set limitations if they think it'd be more interesting, like locking their final escape prompt from the faire grounds to a single thread partner and playing out the drama of a full escape.

[OOC: Plot is visible so people can see and start plotting together but not open until Nov. 1. The mods will enable comments then.]

Comments

[hasapoint]

It's going to be incredibly disorienting for Raistlin emerging into this, having just felt like he was quite a different person, dying thoughts filled with grief and rage and cold absolute focus, experiencing the sensory deprivation and some carefully limited degree of the edge of madness that comes with it, and then the triumph of finding that she could control the body of her grieving student, and that all her skills and powers were still available to her. That feeling skims like clouds over a heaving sea - it worked! She's done something unforgivable to a girl who trusted her and who was already bowed under horror and sorrow, but it worked!

For a moment, this seems less like the fair Raistlin had actually been present in an hour ago and more like that long-gone compound, and there is the sense that people he cares about - that Need cares about? - are lying dead, just out of sight. Need disentangles hurriedly with a :That place is long gone and not here and it's not relevant right now. You're alive, and male, and a Red Robe mage. One of us was addressed as Sister and it's not you, boy.: She's been doing the best she can to make this less of an identity nightmare. This a lot of why memories are best shared with someone who's either asleep or sitting in a quiet room. In either case, they can come out of it slowly and reassert their own perspectives on their own time.

Raistlin has about twenty seconds as Need splits her attention and builds a mental map. :Some of the defenders abandoned their posts and let an attack catch everyone vulnerable,: she says dispassionately, and without that memory between them he would never know that this intimation of betrayal has her holding back a snarl. Reaching through the gales of emotion whipping past, she catches just the edge of a spitting, bestial hatred and yanks away from it like pulling a hand away from fire, catches glances of it through three pairs of borrowed eyes. :Oh, what - the hell - are those? Walking dyrstaffs?:

It had reacted to her touch, however fleeting that had been, and its effect roils outwards as it comes towards her. She feels it first - a fractured mirror of several bad memories at once, several pictures of shame and agony. Women and girls and others she hadn't been able to save, for one reason or another, but whose pain and hopelessness she had shared in. If she'd had teeth, she would have gritted them. How dare this thing... how dare...

:Child,: she says to Raistlin, very deliberately. :We need to move, and if you can't, I'll move for you.:

[talk_radio]

I'm here to help.

[Bee's volume is mercifully turned down after the initial blast of Wham! as he carefully moves inside, legs converting down into wheels so he's not scraping the ceiling with his head.]

Don't be scared

[The beam is slowly lifted away by a pair of very large metal hands and set to the side. Knowing that a giant robot isn't exactly the type of thing that makes humans less scared Bee pulls back his battlemask to reveal the slightly friendlier face behind it.]

Come with me if you want to live.

[He's close enough to quickly grab Spencer if they need to get out fast, but doesn't make any sudden moves to do so. Humans, people in general, can be scared of things they don't understand.]

Mona Vanderwaal | Open to All

[skinlotion]

i. going north
[Whatever is going on here, Mona knows one thing for sure: if she's being told to go north, her best option for escape is to go in any other direction. There's a risk of being punished for it, of course, or a risk of running into another electric fence boxing her in, but she can't pass up the chance to lose herself in the trees.

Unfortunately, whenever she manages to get any significant distance away, bunching her skirt up in one hand and stumbling over the uneven ground as best she can in her prom shoes, she suddenly gets teleported back towards the main group. She catches herself before she falls, taking in the sudden scenery change with a snarl.] God dammit!

ii. rescue lines
[Mona's managed to get herself on a horse. Knees squeezed tight and hands strangling the reins as they pick their way through the chaos, it's not all that much faster than if she were on foot, but it gives her space to catch her breath and keep an eye on her surroundings. This isn't her first time escaping from the woods burning down around her ears, and she couldn't have done it without help then either; maybe that's why she stops to lend a hand, some sympathy pain reaching back to the last time smoke filled her vision and the night devolved into chaos.

Maybe she hears someone coughing and stops to look for the culprit; maybe there's a burning tent in the way or just someone in need of a hand to yank them out. The important thing is that, breathless and clutching onto her horse as she tries to keep it from bucking, Mona says the first thing that comes into her head.]

Come with me if you want to live.

iii. rescued lines? - warning for psychological torture/captivity in memshares
[This time it's Mona in need of a rescue; a Nightrender has its hands around her, tight in an unbreakable grip as it starts its horrible sucking noises. Mona's hands are fumbling around a broken arrowhead and her legs are kicking to try to find purchase, but her glancing blows don't seem to stall the creature at all. Her breathing ramps up in desperation as the terror of the situation and the aura of the Nightrenders settle in, projecting flashes of fingers scrabbling against the walls of a deep hole raising up above her head in near-perfect darkness or piercing alarms and broken sobs playing overhead as she covers her ears, too thirsty to cry anymore as she struggles uselessly against her attacker.]

iv. wildcard
[Feel free to toss anything my way and we'll roll with it! I can be reached for plotting on the CR meme here or at plurk on spoilers if you'd like to set something specific up or talk ideas to get CR!]

b

[takenalive]

<You are falling behind,> a voice says. Receiving thought-speech isn't the same as picking up sound - there's not a sense of what direction it's coming from, but it is fainter than when the Andalite is right up close in a clearing.

Up above, visible only as a shape passing across the stars and a weird shimmer of teeth, is a great dark delta-winged flying animal a little bit like a rayfish, staying well clear of the sister-creatures.

Alloran continues, sarcastically courteous. <I don't suppose it's particularly scenic down there?>

Counselor Aiden Price

[myagents]

D) RUN
Questions borne out of scientific curiosity can't help but come to Price's mind, with just that tiny bit of fascination that comes with them, yet the fear and dread that the Nightrenders instill are so primal that running away without a second thought seems like the wisest choice.

Upon stopping to catch breath, he runs his hands long the surface of the trees, examining them carefully.

"The faeries said to go north." he thinks out loud, hoping that a friendly presence will find him and help him navigate the area "If we assume we are in the Northern Hemispehere and that this is radiation fog, following the moss could be a safe enough plan."

He's not sure the faeries can be trusted, but if anything showing even a fake compliance could get him somewhere. He knows it has for all his life, so this won't be too different, hopefully.

Another important variable in this whole scenario is the fact that he's likely to encounter either strangers or enemies. Or Dan, who is...A special case, that happens to be very reckless, so statistically speaking? He's in trouble.

[ragefeathers]

As soon as Ace's arms wrap around her, Mackenzie's rage turns to focus on him with all the unbridled fury that a Garou is capable of. Thankfully, he's managed pin her arms for the moment but that leaves her teeth free and she's snapping and snarling in an attempt to rip bits off of Ace and free herself to dance in his guts.

As Stacia gets closer, the same flashes of memory hit her--the same one that reduced Mackenzie to a weeping mess, begging Stacia to put her out of her misery.

Henry Townshend

[wisdomreceiver]

B) NABBED

Henry wanders about the woods with a distracted expression. He's not sure what's going on here, but he's seen more alarming things, and either way he has to get back to Eileen before Walter murders her for real this time. He blames himself a little, thinking he shouldn't have crawled through the hole the last time, but what else was he supposed to do?

"Huh..." he recognizes something familiar on the ground, it looks like one of those legendary Swords of Obedience "How did this get here?"

The writing on it looks close enough, he was never really able to decipher it, but it must be the spell. It means it works. Does it also mean it's needed?

Not even the time to finish that thought that a hook is driven through is ankle, and he groans in pain.

"What the--?"

There is a chain attached to it, and it continues behind him. He hears a mocking laughter, and the first thing he does is instinctively grab the sword, but he's quickly pulled away.

"HELP!" he screams, but no one has heard him so far. He drops the sword as he's being pulled, but he crawls nonetheless, attempting to reach it. It's just slightly too far, and he sees someone is walking by.

"Hey! A little hand, here?"

Jennifer

[poor_unlucky_girl]

C) RESCUE

It might be because she is used to confronting her bad memories, it might be because her hallucinations make her See Things, but Jennifer is mostly unfazed for now by those evil presences. She makes it back to safety quite easily...Until some familiar barking distracts her.

"Brown? BROWN!"

Like hell she's going to allow anyone to hurt Brown again. This time she will keep her promise and protect him. She runs straight into danger.

[eternalmisery]

You too?

[Another girl in an ugly prom dress shows up, only Spencer's got soot all over it and hay in her hair. She's been rudely awoken from the only sleep she's gotten in over a week by a fire and a giant robot rescuing her from it. She almost wonders if it would have been better to just burn alive.

Throughout the day, the only thing that's been more depressing than disorienting has been that despite finding Mona, Spencer hasn't seen a trace of her friends. She can't think of any reason that A would want to splinter the group in this particular fashion; Spencer feels like A always seemed to prize Aria as his favorite toy, Emily as his favorite punching bag, with Spencer occupying that null space in the middle. Like the plaything a little kid would throw around at home, but not take with them on vacation or to bed. She can't suss out why A would split her and Mona off unless-

-unless they're being singled out because they were the ones to come up with the electro-magnet bomb. Put the smart ones together. Let them devour each other alive like scorpions, probably.

Well, despite all her very justified misgivings about Mona, Spencer felt a pang of sympathy when she saw the state of her in the dollhouse, and felt a pang of relief when Mona was on her same wavelength in terms of building a magnet bomb, and felt a pang of gratitude that Mona had done so much legwork exploring the dollhouse. All those pangs adds up to camaraderie, in a really twisted way. Spencer reaches out to grab Mona and steady her from falling.]

I'm going southwest. [Spencer feels like she would need to explain why to her friends, but Mona's probably already on the same track.]

Re: d

[heterochrocatic]

There's no time to argue with him. Even as he sobs and claws at her, her own memories rise--her own tiny kitten-self, sobbing, alone and hurting.

"We'll find him, I promise--!" Catra says and heaves with her one hand to hurl him up towards Elle. Whether he lands on her back or gets carried along in her jaws, she isn't picky. Shape-changing can be remarked on later when they're away from these things.

With both hands free and lunges, slashes at one of the Nightrenders to force it back, then turns to spring up onto Elle's back herself.

"Go!"

[tr1xx]

Saturday's hand touches Cammie's shoulder, Cammie recoils, and the flash of memory turns to the pressure of a strong, metal hand wrapped around the same spot, pushing down on her body whilst the other latches onto her head, tugs and twists and—

There's that strange sensation of metal tearing, of sparks and electricity arcing, of pain that's somehow tinged artificial and yet feels no less real. That piercing, visceral scream sounds electronic, and yet exactly the same as Cammie's real voice in the here and now, letting out an aborted cry of her own.

But reality must be creeping back in at the edges, because as Cammie shakes her head she splutters out a response.

"Saturday? Saturday, Saturday I—" A pitiful whimper. "Can't, I can't, he's got me, he's got me I can't—"

Open

[heterochrocatic]

Catra hurls herself through the ruins of the faire, her spear clutched in her hands. Somehow it feels comfortable, as if she knows exactly what to do with it when it's in her hands. Magic, probably. Stupid magic. She pauses, trying to catch her breath and decide where she's going next when she hears a scream. She whirls, almost on instinct, and hurtles herself towards it.

Adora would be proud.

She skids to a stop as she sees the thing holding Saturday aloft and her blood freezes in her veins. Hurling herself forward, she jams her spear into the joint of one of the things arms and wrenches.

"LET HER GO!"

Re: d

[millenyal_pink]

Elle catches Little Cato's scruff with her teeth. She hopes he can forgive her for this.

Catra's memories melt into her own: a child crying in her room, alone--

--Elle standing between a crying child and a man with a gun.

She feels Catra land on her back and hears her say "Go!"

Elle bolts.

She's moving as fast as she can without throwing Catra off. The forest becomes a near-blur as they sprint through. She doesn't bother to try to figure which way North is, it's far easier to track the scents of those who have already run away.

Cato is managing to scratch the hell out of her but the wounds are healing almost as quickly as he makes them. At this point, the pain barely registers through the adrenaline.

Agent Texas ★ OTA ★ Will match style

[a_shadow]

i. memories —

[ Tex is caught up for a few moments in the bad memory flashes that overwhelm her when the Nightrenders appear. She's a strong-willed person and unlikely to dwell long, but the flashes are strong, too.

a. You're fighting your way through a zero-gravity environment, battling another woman in teal armor. She doesn't lose, but she doesn't win. Instead, you're both thrown to the front by the ship crashing. You go straight to the computer; you have to talk to him.

But he doesn't know, doesn't remember you, doesn't understand. You have to leave him behind.

b. You are trying to end the war. This is unethical, this is wrong and bad, but it's the only chance you know of that'll work. You load up the ship with the child, the helmet, and the alien, and you turn after giving the command.

'Goodbye,' you say.

c. She's everything to you now, the one person you can still save after all this disaster. She's also someone you came to love, for various reasons, even though you know she hates you. You run forward—and Maine throws her teal-armored form over the cliff.

'No!' you shout. But there's nothing you can do, now.

d. You fight, you fight, you fight, surrending Omega and Gamma to him as you try to avoid being taken. But Sigma was right, all those years ago—the Meta has found you, and now you're about to become a member.

Fortunately, Tex is strong-willed enough to be able to leave this haze and fight them. But the memory flashes will be there, regardless. ]

ii. rescuing —

[ Tex has two weapons right now—the glaive that had mysteriously been in her possession upon her arrival, and the sword she had bought during the faire. She can't fight with one in each hand, so she alternates them, dropping the glaive when an attack with the sword makes more sense. She has had no lessons in using either, but she did a good job fighting with pugil sticks during training. She does her best to kill the Nightrenders, but her blows seem ineffective.

In any case, she perseveres. When she rescues someone from the nets, she rushes to their side to ensure that they're okay. ]

iii. running —

[ After rescue, Tex knows it's time to run. She puts her arm around the person she had saved. ]

You good to go?

iv. wildcard —

(( Want to do something else with Tex? Tag it in or hit me up at texelations! ))

[skinlotion]

[Mona nods, a determined, furious expression on her face as she steadies herself with Spencer's help. She glances over at Spencer just once-- perhaps charitably, she assumes Spencer went to the barn to get a horse to ride through the flames and has since been stymied-- before she shoves her horribly blonde hair back away from her face, full of small twigs and leaves from her previous attempts. What she wouldn't give for a hairtie and a hoodie right now.]

I've tried east. [Several times, actually. While she hadn't stopped to look for Spencer, she hadn't-- honest-- forgotten about her. They just need one of them to get away, to connect back up with her network and come back to raid A's precious dollhouse once they have a direction to look, and it's truly fine whether that's her or Spencer. She trusts Spencer, at least, to think these through along the same line of thought as she does; to understand her answer as both an agreement and sharing additional information. And while Spencer might not come back for Mona, she'd certainly come back for the others, wherever they are.] Maybe with two of us we can see what's triggering it, if nothing else.

["It," because she can't quite bring herself to say... what? Magic? Teleportation? A brief unconsciousness that doesn't leave her groggy afterwards? Some optical illusion thanks to the fog? Mona's half convinced she's hallucinating it, the jumps in space hauling her back towards the rest of the crowd, even if Spencer's implicitly acknowledged it too. She can figure it out when they either make it deeper into the woods or get dragged back to the dollhouse.

She hauls up her skirts again and plunges back into the trees, away from the streams of people (and her slight, tugging curiosity) heading north.]

Inigo Montoya | OTA | Will match style

[studiedhisagrippa]

i. memories —

[ Inigo is brought to his knees when the memory flashes begin. He doesn't understand it at first; why is he thinking about these things? What horrible timing. But soon enough he realizes that it's magic.

a. You're a boy of ten and a nobleman has come to ask your father to craft him a sword. It's now a year later and it's time to give the nobleman what he has ordered.

But he throws the quality of exquisitely-made sword back in your father's face. And when your father refuses to sell it to him, a knife goes through your father's gut.

b. You are trying to find the six-fingered man. All over Europe, you have tried to find him. The first taste of alcohol means little to you during this time. But its addictive charms are something else.

You remember the first time you get drunk. You remember blacking out.

You remember being a failure.

c. You cannot fins Westley. You cannot find the way into the dungeon where he is being kept. There are so many creatures here. Even Fezzik is scared.

When the coils of the giant snake envelop you, there's nothing you can do.

When Inigo realizes this is only magic, he stands up and fights, stronger than ever. He will help the people around him. ]

ii. rescuing —

You will not take them!

[ Inigo points his sword at the Nightrenders, defiant and proud. ]

You have to go through me.

iii. camp —

[ Inigo checks on as many people as he can once they've arrived. ]

Do you need anything?

iv. wildcard —

(( Want to do something else with Tex? Tag it in or hit me up at texelations! ))

Jim Hopper | OTA | Will match style

[hoponpop]

i. memories —

[ Hopper is unable to resist the charms of the Nightrenders once they have overwhelmed him. He tries to press forward, to fight, but instead he's left lying on the ground. Memory flashes overwhelm him.

a. Your daughter is sick and you are powerless to do anything about it. She suffers through the cancer treatments, and you know that your efforts to keep her spirits up do little, but you press on.

And then, she dies. You are crushed.

b. You didn't know this place would lead to your being caught by the creature that had been let in from the Upside-Down. You explore, and you light the way, but the tentacles of the creature grab you.

And then one is forced down your throat.

c. Your wife is devastated by the loss of your little girl. The two of you argue, and it gets more and more intense, but any attempt you make at making peace fails. The divorce happens, and far too soon.

d. Eleven is missing. She was your charge, and she is missing. You cry into the radio. Please answer. Please answer.

Hopper feels himself being grabbed, and he puts his arms over his head. It's too late, now. ]

ii. rescued? —

[ Hopper is raised from the ground by the power of the net. The Night Sisters begin to suck out his soul.

Suddenly he realizes that he really doesn't even care. He stops thrashing and bows his head.

Someone needs to intervene as soon as possible. ]

iii. camp —

[ Hopper makes it to camp, but doesn't try to do much once he arrives. Normally he'd be checking on everyone else, getting acquainted, and making sure they have the things they need. But instead he sits down on a log and bows his head again. ]

iv. wildcard —

(( Want to do something else with Tex? Tag it in or hit me up at texelations! ))

[credit_not_blame]

Those girls are going the wrong direction. Stacia's not sure why; they're clearly not running off in a panic-induced state of mindlessness, but right now she's less concerned about the "why" and more concerned with the "they're gonna get eaten or kidnapped or both". Part of her wants to scoop them up and cart them off north, but she of all people knows that trying to wrangle one terrified and struggling teenage girl is a pain in the ass, much less two. Fortunately she has an alternative, one that they probably won't think to argue with like they would another person: a wolf.

Wolves are big when all you've known are dogs. So are their teeth. And neither of the girls look armed, it shouldn't be hard to herd them back to the main body of the fleeing people where they'll be harder to pick off.

Stacia shifts into Lupus and slips through the trees, running silently until she's outpaced the other girls. Then she puts herself in their way and growls - and she's careful to keep it a growl without letting it edge into a snarl. It's already been a rough night, no need to scare them more than necessary.

Re: II: Rent!

[credit_not_blame]

Well, there's the answer to that game of twenty questions they never got to finish. Stacia can't help but laugh as the other girl turns into an enormous, terrifying bipedal cougar. She catches a glimpse of a few violent bloody memories that aren't her own, but she shoves them aside to focus on fighting her way back out of this corner. She bursts forward, bowling over one of the distracted Nightrenders before it can turn back. Her claws scrape across its surface and catch in its joints, which results in an awkward grip but at least now she can try to use it as a club to pummel another of its kind.

Re: II

[credit_not_blame]

There's a familiar face (and lack of self-preservation instinct)! Stacia doesn't have time to celebrate though, instead scrabbling backward between the carts she'd been cornered against. While the memory flashes are keeping her good and pissed off, she's out of Rage that she can use, which means that shifting is going to take a few moments that Dan just bought her.

Note to self, she thinks as she expands into fur and fang, do not scare Dan's horse.

[eternalmisery]

I think there's some kind of boundary. I went west and ended up here.

[Spencer's thinking of the invisible fences that people use to keep dogs in their yard, and why not? A basically treats them like pets.]

At least, I think it's external. It'd be easier for us to both be experiencing the same thing if it's not just in our heads.

[Spencer hauls her puffy layers of hideous prom dress and starts to run with Mona, slipping in the mud around the fair grounds, until she sees something that makes her blood run cold. It isn't a dog. It isn't any animal Spencer has ever seen in person before, but she can tell exactly what it is and how big its teeth are.

Maybe A's moved on from dollhouses to fairy tales.]

Mona!

[Spencer feels her body temporarily freeze up as she tries to stop Mona, feeling exactly like she did when she watched her friends barrel towards an electric fence, like she's not only about to witness a brutal killing but already has, can picture it perfectly in her mind. Spencer's seen someone die before. She doesn't need to ever see it again.

So, even though Mona's got a very personalized ranking on Spencer's shit list, Spencer flings her arm out like a roller coaster seatbelt to bar Mona from running any closer to the wolf.]

CT

[liesdontfindyou]

1. dreams have turned to fear (cw: violence, memories of death)

a. for Tex

They're still talking, when the commotion starts. CT's hand is on her knife before she's even on her feet, the paranoia that's been tickling at the back of her skull ever since they got here growing into a full blown itch. Apparently her instincts haven't been dulled by months in a city where threats were more abstract than violent—in a split second, she takes in the screams and cries of 'Nightrenders!', the warm flash of flames catching, the faeries directing people north, the thrum of terror that fills the air...

Flipping her hold on her knife into a proper reverse-grip, she glances over to share a look with Tex. "Well, it didn't take long for the catch to show itself after all."

b. open

i. The first time the Nightrenders get too close it sends CT to her knees, the ghost of pain blooming through her chest as an old memory, the all too clear memory of dying, is dragged up to the surface to breathe its own air for the first time in months. There's flashes of red lights, of gunfire, of a fight with teal and black figures, of an impact that winds you, of a voice some may recognise as Agent Carolina's snapping at someone else asking what the hell they think they're doing. Flashes of agony, of the taste of iron in your mouth, of the strange mix of bone-deep fear and acceptance that you're going to die for trying to do the right thing and—

ii. Every other time, CT staggers, but pushes herself to her feet and pushes through the memories that flood her—she has her sights on someone to help, on something to do, and as she drags you away from a Nightrender or pulls you to your feet where you've stumbled, or helps you free someone else from being trapped, those memories flash out towards you.

Reading the news, realising that your family is gone, that your home has been turned to molten slag and you'll never see them again, that you'll never leave here and go home. Hiding in the dark, curled up into such a tight ball it makes your muscles ache and holding your breath for so long that your lungs begin to burn; the knowledge that if you're found, it's all over, you're dead, you'll be dead and no one will ever know the truth. Waking up alone, too warm for your usually ice-cold partner to be there tucked up where they should be, the sheets flat and undisturbed just empty, a flash of panic and frantic searching and the moment where you accept that they're gone. They're gone.

2. run - open

She sticks around at the faire for longer than she maybe should have, too determined to see as many people get past the boundaries of it and into the woods to break for their own freedom to focus on getting herself to safety. It's only when she can feel the exhaustion starting to set in that she starts to consider it, and only when she sees someone else in a similar state doing the same that she actually makes a break for the tree-line at their side.

"They said north, right? We just have to keep running north."

3. wildcard

[ Throw something else at her, happy to do anything combat starters are just my nemesis. Will switch to brackets if preferred. Feel free to poke me on bluecitrine for ideas. ]

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan knows that Stacia is well capable of taking care of herself in a fight, and the fact that she isn't shifting immediately tells him that she currently needs the assist. Thankfully, riding horseback makes him a good distraction for the nightrenders, who move quickly but just not quickly enough to catch Dan as he weaves around upturned carts and burning tents, grateful beyond measure for how his father made him run horse-jumping drills as a child, starting when he was so young he couldn't even get on the horse by himself. He doesn't get far enough away from Stacia to make it worth the nightrenders' while to abandon him and go back to her. He soon has all three of them following him like a train, wearing

As he swings around Stacia again, he shouts to her as he fires another arrow to his four o'clock at a nightrender's face, as loud as his quiet, scratchy voice gets. "Do you need time or an escape?"

[hallelujahjunction]

"Can't make no promises," Dan says with a laugh, giving her space to change by heading back to Concrete Blonde and getting on her before she can bolt away. Maybe he and Elle will meet again. They probably will.

He doesn't think anything's amiss with her turning into a danger battle-cat. He just assumes she's recovered enough for now that he can move on to the next problem, so he rides back into the fray.

aziraphale | open

[oldbookshop]

c1.

[ Aziraphale could, in theory, pick up a sword. If nothing else, they're certainly in supply. What is it humans say, like riding a bicycle?

In theory.

In practice, in accordance with a repeated personal choice spanning most of the entirety of time as a concept, Aziraphale opts not to pick up a sword. Given the chaos and the crowds, he thinks he might make that choice regardless just to mitigate potential very terrible accidents. He's never been a fan of violence. Certainly not of enacting it himself.

This doesn't stop him from trying his resolute best as far as the Nightrenders are concerned. At a certain point, things turn rather as-needs-must.

Aziraphale doesn't have a fraction of the power or range of ability with it that he should, that he always has. He has almost no idea what's going on large-scale and only an understanding of the most immediate priority in circumstance on the smaller scale.

But he's always been good at compartmentalizing, at pushing things back for later. For now, he's considering it a good sign that holiness is at all effective, when it sort of matters quite a lot to be able to be effective.

Broke: attempting to hack at lurching, horrifying nightmare creatures with an aura of dread and evil with a weapon that he hasn't actually used in thousands of years.

Woke: blessing a very sturdy skillet and slamming it into a Nightrender's knee to make it lose balance so he can try to get its victim back up and running. ]

Right, there we are, up you pop-- [ The Nightrender is making some brand of horrible because of being hit with a holy cooking implement. Lame. Aziraphale shoots a sidelong glance at it that's one part reflexive "please don't interrupt me" and two parts "mostly-concealed panic," which may be more commonly known as "urgency." ]

I'm afraid I haven't bought us very much time at all.

[ (Up for memory flash swaps as desired or up for more straightforward escape stuff! It's not his natural instinct to be especially touchy, but Aziraphale is willing to help people get up or hauled off if they need the assist!) ]


c2.

[ There are multiple factors contributing to Aziraphale lingering in this general disaster area for a grip. One of them is quest bond magic teleportation going haywire and popping him around a little bit. Cool! Disorienting. He may suddenly appear in the vicinity, looking disheveled and offended. He's not sure if he's offended at himself for being teleported or offended about it in general, but he's offended.

Other factors are empathy and poor impulse control. The offense simply can't linger in the face of someone or something needing a hand. Maybe it's helping a person up, helping them hobble their way to a safer space. Maybe it's trying to very quickly untie some horses before a tent fire can spread to their tethers. Maybe it's a couple of stealth-drop minor heals trying to keep a person from bleeding to death. It could even be hitting more things with his technically-stolen skillet.

(It's a different universe entirely, isn't it? Technically, he hasn't been given be-all, end-all instructions about directly interfering with what's happening around him here.)

Truly, the world is everyone's oyster.

The point remains. Catch these anxious (helping) hands. Or direct them to somewhere that could use them. He is dumb and nice and maybe a little bit thrown by the fact that somehow this day is even weirder than the literal apocalypse he was just busy with. ]


e.

[ and wildcard! For any in-between type prompts or post-running Heartstone hangout content. Feel free to hit me at comatoseroses to hash out ideas. ]