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ximilialog2022-10-07 08:12 pm
- ! event log,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- code geass: suzaku kururugi,
- devil may cry: dante,
- doom patrol: rita farr,
- fear street: ziggy berman,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- marvel comics: gwen stacy,
- mcu: bucky barnes,
- mcu: natasha romanoff,
- mcu: shang-chi,
- one piece: rosinante donquixote,
- original: clayton epps,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- the old guard: andromache,
- the old guard: yusuf al-kaysani,
- the walking dead: daryl dixon,
- the witcher: yennefer of vengerberg,
- transformers: drift,
- transformers: megatron,
- transformers: minimus ambus,
- transformers: perceptor,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
MISSION: THE VOICE IN THE DARK
● ● ● M I S S I O N 9 . 0
It's in the early hours of the morning, when even the lights around the station are dimmed to emulate an accurate cycle of the day, when your earpieces softly ping with information for a new mission. Viveca’s accompanying message will only play when the file is opened; no one will have to wake up to it, though undoubtedly some early birds (or late night owls) will want to listen to it immediately.
With that slightly ominous intel, it is time to familiarize yourself with the file and its contents, and gather what you need. You'll have time for a nice meal, an extra nap, or maybe several hours of training before the evening finally arrives and it’s time to head to the teleportation platform.
When you get there, it is already lit up, the unmistakable hum filling the room. Viveca and Degar are already there too, greeting each arriving Orber and offering them luck. Once everyone has arrived, the hum grows louder, the machine preparing to send everyone off as usual —
But then you hear something. From your earpiece, that same knock as before, the same lilting voice asking “Who’s there?”, except now she follows it with:
In the ever-louder hum, it's impossible to tell who among the team it is that, after a pause, asks:
The answer is as immediate as it is sweet, almost cheerful.
You barely have the time to process this, or the way Viveca and Degar look at each other with alarm, when the teleportation yanks you away into a bright, white light. There, instead of the lilt of the unknown woman, you hear a whisper, echoes from far away, telling you what it is you must do … but before you can answer, the light around you fades and you feel solid ground beneath your feet.
Welcome to Forsythe Heights.
The weather has cooled down considerably when you arrive in Forsythe Heights, the autumn season truly upon the small, cozy town. It’s reflected in the reds, oranges and browns of the leaves in the trees, and slowly forms a cover over manicured lawns and gathers at roads-end drains, sticking to metal grates and concrete curbs. It’s the perfect time for pumpkin pie and warm hot cocoa, and All Hallow’s Day is well on its way with the slow emergence of decorations in front of houses. For those who have always lived here, it’s just ‘that time again’; and for those freshly arrived, it’s time to find a way to blend in.
1.0 The Town —— With your established cover stories at hand, it’s time to explore Forsythe Heights. Upon entering the cozy town, you’ll be greeted by a block of restaurants and a few select shops before Lilian’s Bed and Breakfast comes up on the road. Beyond that is the library (with a small but robust collection of fiction and archived newspapers) and the mayor’s office, the police department and the fire station. Rows of shops line Main Street too, with goods ranging from clothing and food items to accessories and knick-knacks of varying levels of usefulness (and entertainment). After this are the residential neighbourhoods, with blocks of quaint houses on streets like Acorn Avenue and Beaver Creek and Elmgrove Street; Forsythe Heights Elementary School and High School are nestled comfortably within, making the commute no longer than a pleasant morning walk from most houses.
With All Hallow’s Day approaching, the town has been decorated to suit, but there are still events one can join in on too: pumpkin-carving competitions, decoration creations, face-painting, and festive pastry-baking (with all the ins and outs of using orange icing to the best of one’s ability!). The elementary school will also be hosting a bake sale a week before All Hallow’s Day to fund the annual class party, a task that has been newly assigned to Mr Harris this year. Feel free to sign up for various activities through speaking with those in the community running them, join in and blend in with your fellow resident.
2.0 Forsythe Pleasantview Cemetery —— By the church, Our Lady of Lonely Souls, is a large expanse of lush land lined with pathways and trees and rows of headstones of varying shapes and sizes. It’s easy enough to find one’s way there, past the town hall and the library nearby. It’s a peaceful walk and beautiful when it isn’t raining or frigid with the winter ice. Today might be an exceptionally beautiful autumn day, with the leaves having made a carpet of colour, and one can get a great overlooking view of Forsythe Heights.
As you walk among the stones, you might catch the faintest whisper on the wind but otherwise this place doesn’t seem to evoke any sort of unease. Of course, you might not want to stay anywhere past 6:30PM when the caretakers of the cemetery … gently but forcibly send visitors home with vague answers to any questions. It might not be impossible to linger by the gates and chat up the caretakers for any possible conversation, but you’ll have to be the right kind of charming. And, of course, catch them on a good day.
3.0 Wright Central Mall —— Just past Forsythe Heights, on the next exit along the freeway, you might come across a large two-storey building that sprawls over a large lot surrounded by asphalt. There are fragments of an ambitious vision poured into the weathered concrete and the smooth stone surfaces, memories of a bustling shopping epicenter that now sits empty with all businesses closed, the structure of Wright Central Mall itself a retail graveyard. It may prove to be something of a challenge to get past the tall barbed fencing, and the large bright yellow sign warns trespassers that their attempts to enter are forbidden and will be punished by law, but it isn’t an impossible feat either.
Once you move past the padlocks and chains and through the large metal doors, you’ll be greeted with the darkness and the musty scent of debris and a space fallen to disuse and disrepair. Storefronts are empty and abandoned. Some stores may still see scraps of old merchandise (nothing especially useful: clothing, unmatched shoes, old books, random accessories), covered now in a thick layer of dust. The escalator no longer runs, but it still works plenty well enough as a staircase to lead you up to the second level where a now defunct food court once existed, some of the signage now left broken and shattered into pieces.
Wandering through this long forgotten shopping mall might offer different experiences for some. There are small shops with none of the lights on, dark spaces that seem even darker no matter how long you adjust your eyes. As you explore these stores you might feel the walls begin to shift and draw closer, swallowing you into the darkness, paralyzing you. You can try to scream and claw your way out but it feels as though you’re stuck, your limbs locked into place.
Hopefully one of your fellow orbers will find you and pull you out from the dark — whether it’s all in your own head or not. ♪
4.0 Main Street —— Forsythe Heights has never been bustling, but those without a regular nine-to-five seem to populate the main street of the town where most of the shops and cafes and restaurants are situated. There is no other way to describe it: it’s quaint. This is where you might find that one-of-a-kind scarf or hat, something homemade and not too mainstream. There’s a bookshop and general store, and little shops for knick-knacks. At the cafes (of which there are two to choose from: Patty’s Diner; or for coffee addicts, Alvin’s Roastery) you might sample artisanal hot beverages ranging from coffee to tea to the richest cocoas, and try the croissants at Alvin’s as well. Patty offers great food for lunch or dinner, and might happily chatter away at you if you try her latest menu item.
The sun sets quickly now during this last leg of the year, and by early evening the lights in the town start to come on, illuminating the interiors of houses and other businesses along the main street like stars. Carved and plastic pumpkins alike glow bright orange at door stoops and in windows, and while the sky is covered in cloud, the glow of the waxing gibbous moon still painting rooftops in a cool, white-ish light.
5.0 Cemetery: Revisited (CW: body horror, some descriptions of gore) —— If you decide to chance getting caught and possibly arrested for trespassing, you might decide that it’s well worth exploring Forsythe Pleasantview Cemetery after hours. The groundskeepers lock up the premises at 6:30PM sharp and disappear into their car to drive past the slight crest in the road that leads to their home. It isn’t very far away in the case of an emergency, but then they haven’t come across such things in … some time.
You might find that the cemetery now feels inextricably different with the sun’s last light fading into evening; in fact, it’s almost eery. The wind feels colder, almost biting. It seems to whisper words in your ear as it hisses past you. The grass beneath your feet crunches like the sound of something dry and brittle, something like bone — only when you look down at your shoes, there’s nothing there except for the grass and dirt and dust. When you look up, however, you might find a gaunt face staring back at you, a blur at first but slowly it takes the shape of something familiar, someone you know or knew from home. Their eyes are dark and empty, hollow holes in a pale face that smudges in and out of focus like flashes of a horrible image. They might look as though they’re in pain as they reach out, flesh hanging from bone and yet looking barely corporeal. And they may open their mouths with chipped, blackened teeth and an equally black tongue but as they try to speak words to you no sound comes out. They're just cold whispers in your ear, nothing more than the wind. ♪
6.0 Forsythe Elementary (CW: some descriptions of gore, uh ... giggling children?) —— The skies are fully dark by the time you find your way towards the elementary school. Somehow, without the presence of staff and students, the building feels like a cold, haunted shell of itself. Should you dare to go in — after bypassing the locks, of course — you’ll be met with dark corridors, echoing classrooms, and the wind whistling through the emptiness, seeming to come from outside … except no windows or doors are really open. You might see a dark smudge up ahead that seems to shift and move, sending a chill crawling up the length of your spine. If you happen to have a torchlight with you, throwing a spotlight onto the shadow, there’s nothing there.
Continue on and you may suddenly be transported to a different place all together, the glossy hallways now a room you remember vividly, or a field, or battle arena. Your worst memory slowly begins to materialize before you to be lived through again, and you might scream for help but find no response. Or, if you move along the long corridor and study the postings and drawings and notices on the walls, colourful push-pins keeping equally colourful flyers in place, you might start to notice the words start to change or bleed into each other. They become bold and black and appear to drip down the length of the page with threatening messages or deep, dark secrets revealed, clear before your eyes. Whether this message is for you, and you alone, is dependent upon the strength of your fear.
Whispers might follow you, a shadow taking shape that looks eerily like you — only it murmurs your worst fears at you, taunting you, provoking you into doing something foolish. Maybe it asks you to claw at your own face, or find someone else to harm. Will you ignore it? Or will you give in? And if it isn’t whispers, you might hear the clear peal of children giggling somewhere just out of reach of you, in another class room or down the hall. No matter how long you try to chase it, you can never quite catch sight of them.
Do you continue to explore or do you try to find a way out, hoping to escape the horrors in this school? ♪
7.0 The Town After Dark —— By the time the sun goes down and the skies are dark, most of Forsythe Heights’ residents have closed their stores and cafes and departed for their homes. The town suddenly looks very different without its residents out and about, the shadows seeming to be larger and darker without the sun to keep them at bay. And are those … ghoulish, grinning faces behind the display windows, hidden amongst the clothing mannequins or past the darkness? No, no, that must be your imagination.
Out here it might seem peaceful at first, but it quickly becomes unmistakable — somewhere in that cool, cold distance, there’s the low growl of something primal that slowly becomes a howl at the now-full moon. And among that are more hushed whispers and strange sounds carried across the breeze, foreign grunts and groans and clicks from under shadow. Some of you might try and investigate the source of these sounds, but others of you might want to find shelter or quickly make your way back to the homes you’ve made here.
Everything seems to come to a head when the clock strikes 3AM on the morning of All Hallow’s Day. The strange happenings within Forsythe Heights have been increasing in frequency and strength, sights that are hard to dismiss and hard to excuse if you and the rest of the team have been investigating locations around town during the nights. A fog has set in now, obscuring the sharp lines of building forms and the curbs of the roads to a blurry watercolour painting. From wherever you might be now, the strangest feeling seems to settle over your chest like a pressing weight, prickling at your skin and raising the hairs on your arms.
Something is coming. No. Something is already here.
8.0 Witching Hour —— A dark silhouette begins to take shape through the thick fog. It appears to approach you and the rest of the team but it takes its time, slow and meticulous in its movement. The air is colder now, each exhale a cloud of condensation, and you wish you brought an extra jacket. Your eyes remain trained on the shadow drawing nearer, it’s like you can’t look away even if you want to. (But some of you might, just to exchange a look with your fellow orber.) The figure doesn’t quite walk, but it isn’t gliding either. The air tingles with a girl’s cackling laughter now, but it sounds too familiar, as though it might have been sampled directly from a popular horror film. It seems to be cut out immediately by another voice, low and guttural, murmuring nonsensical words like something possessed, before a different voice all together claws its way past the growls and the giggles. It’s a boy’s voice, and it doesn’t sound any older than twelve or thirteen.
A jumpscare is a mod-initiated prompt using one or more of your character's fears listed here. Once initiated, players can treat it as if it were a specific starter or a prompt in a top level, and react and respond accordingly.
There will be no follow-up by the mods.
The player who the jumpscare is for can decide whether to treat it like an open prompt (everyone can tag in), or a closed starter (only pre-planned tag-ins). Please make sure to plot for this amongst yourselves for tag-ins. Feel free to make use of the initial ooc plotting post for this.
• When will it happen?
• Where will it happen?
— Though note that every jumpscare thread will be considered a "log" thread for AC, regardless where it happens.F Y I
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.
• To submit a search request regarding exploring a specific place or speaking to an NPC, please do so HERE.
• If you would still like to opt in for a jumpscare, you may do so HERE. We will be accepting them until October 20.
• A gentle reminder: please make sure to properly mark your threads for content warnings and/or mature content.
• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
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Only if the result is something like what we have here. Conversation only.
[Paranoia, privacy, and a haunted past brought closer to the surface by the things in this town all make him a little extra-cautious. Now that he knows Clayton isn't dying or anything, he's already leaning toward backing out of this entirely and just carrying him while the other two talk in their minds all they like, but he's willing to continue if it's simply an alternative to the network while one of them isn't all that present in his physical body.
And if the answer says only that, sure, he'll bend down low enough to allow it. He can trust just that much, for now.]
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Mm. Conversation only.
[To Clayton, Wangji sent a pulse of spiritual energy from his golden core. While he usually kept it tamped down so that it did not overwhelm others, the pulse sent out would be enough for Clayton to get the impression of a miniature sun - bright and gold and strong - spinning inside Wangji's lower dantian (just below his navel).]
Not an issue.
[Now that the connection was established, Wangji spoke to them both through the mindlink he'd created. No emotions spilling over, though tonal inflections did become clear now that he was no longer concentrating on holding the link open for another to be added.]
I can maintain the link nearly indefinitely if there is nothing else taking my energy. Anchoring Clayton-gongzi and maintaining it tonight should be no issue so long as I am not needed to otherwise defend us.
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[It makes him a little nervous, actually.]
[Some of that anxiety spreads through Clayton's lingering surface-level connection between Rosinante and Wangji, before he decides to test it properly and lets go with all three hands. His emotions and that pesky, seasick sensation from his body being carried slip away with him, while Wangji's tether stays tightly bound to his soul. Clayton takes the liberty of moving it to the more comfortable location of his ankle.]
Alright...how are we? Y'all still there? What's the range on this thing?
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[He confirms, and adjusts his hold on Clayton, who has begun to slip just a little. Even the weight of one fairly average person starts to feel heavy after a while.]
Place I'm staying at is just one more block down. Almost there. So, what have you found so far?
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[Wangji held his sword at the ready, taking up responsibility of guarding both of them for the trip. Just in case. While he had yet to experience an attack in the nightly fog, that did not mean it wouldn't happen.]
I will maintain your strength after we are safely inside. Until then, stay with us.
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I might have to come back and make somethin' a little stronger if I notice stuff outside that range. But I'll stay put 'til you're ready.
[Then, directing his thoughts to both parties instead of focusing on Wangji, ]
What I've found...not much yet. Weird, wispy stuff all over the place. Astral tends to be pretty empty, but it's buzzin' here with all kinds of loose energy goin' places.
[A beat, as Clayton takes another studious look around the void.]
...I think they're all goin' to the same place, actually.
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[Despite the way the graveyard attendants act here, he has searched and searched that place and come up empty-handed every time. Ghosts, sure, or whatever those faces are that take the forms of friends and strangers alike, dead and alive, but little worse than what can be found around other parts of town.
He has his guesses as to which places are more important, but he'd rather hear what Clayton has found, and speculate after.]
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[Wangji recognized the focus on his own mind alone, but returned the explanation to both Clayton and Rosi. They should both be aware of it's limitations and why. In case something did happen.
Is the place near?
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[Oh, right.] I gotcha. It's... [He drifts a bit further away and squints into the darkness. It's a metaphorical squint; the many eyes on his soul don't actually do anything, but thinking of the action does help bring his senses into focus.] ...Maybe it's not just the one place? I'm seein' a few paths. Hard to gauge distance here, and I can't really tell what they are 'til I get a closer look at 'em. Might just start followin' one and see if we stay connected, come back if it gets thin.
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Is there any danger to you in what you're doing? Can your... spirit? Be harmed by these things?
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[With Rosinante's question still lingering in Clayton's thoughts, he moves further away to follow one such trail. Vague impressions of landmarks come into focus around the scant few minds still present in downtown, likely sleeping or otherwise minding their own business in over-shop apartments. None of them stand out, so Clayton doesn't bother any of them, instead using them as launching points through the Astral and as methods of getting his bearings in the physical plane.]
[In spite of the rapidly growing Astral distance, Clayton sends his thoughts back to Rosi and Wangji as if they were still next to each other (mentally speaking - his comatose body isn't doing much for him right now). He immediately and implicitly trusts Wangji's connection to hold up.]
Pretty much everything in the Astral can interact with a soul. [Which...doesn't answer Rosinante's question directly, and that's on purpose. Clayton doesn't want to admit how dangerous traveling outside his mind really is. Causing that kind of worry in someone is, in his opinion, unproductive.] These things should, too. Lemme see if I can intercept one of 'em...
[Not waiting for possible protests, Clayton halts his exploration and drifts into the path of one of the floating motes of energy. He holds his hand out to try and catch it in his palm.]
[The wisp passes directly through his hand, like it was never there. Clayton flexes his fingers a few times.]
...Huh. Nothin'.
no subject
So you're the type to pass out in alleyways, and touch unknown ghosts in another realm to see what they do, huh.
[He turns down a little neighborhood road and makes his way to one of the homes - quiet, neat, well-maintained. Heather must have gone to bed already, but she's left the porch light on for him. Kind of her. He manages to get his key out of his pocket, but then offers it to Wangji who isn't currently carrying someone draped over a shoulder.]
Mind getting the door?
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[Was all Wangji managed to get out before Clayton was reporting back the non-success of his experiment. Assuming that 'nothin' meant a lack of success. Not being there to see what had been attempted, Wangji was forced to trust that Clayton knew his risks and limits and would not push himself too far.
He took the key from Rosi and opened the door quickly, moving inside first to ensure the safety of the place before stepping away for the larger man to enter. Once he had, Wangji pulled the door shut behind them and locked it once more.]
We are inside. Your body should be safe. Keep speaking, describe what you see.
[Aloud, he said to Rosi:]
Once you have him settled, I will need you to guard us while I feed him qi to keep his tether as strong as possible. If he is attacked, it may be what is needed to pull him back to safety.
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Sorry. [He doesn't sound very sorry. Clayton waits a few seconds to test another passing by, with the same result.] Thanks again. Think I'll follow this one, looks like the...
[Clayton's thoughts trail off. His physical body being moved means that his thought tether connecting him to his mind has dragged him a bit, too, allowing new sources of energy to appear in the Astral horizon. One of them - a location where many of the wisps are lining up - appears in his peripheral like a small sun. Looking at it directly almost blinds him like one, too.]
...Woah, all right. Think I found somethin'. Where are we, exactly? Inside your friend's house?
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Then, just so they don't bother Heather in her own nearby room, he snaps his fingers. It won't make any obvious difference to the other two, but as long as they're inside this room, she won't be able to hear them at all.]
Attacked?
[Wait - hold that thought, as he pauses to answer Clayton first.]
Yeah. She's just someone who lives in town and was kind enough to put me up while we're here.
[So, "friend" is not a word he'd use, but she's certainly kind.
He refocuses on Wangji.]
Is there any chance those things could have physical effects or some kind of real presence I need to guard you from, or... is this just in case something comes knocking?
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[He answers aloud as he moves to sit next to Clayton, legs crossed and sword across his lap. He takes one of Clayton's wrist into one hand and presses two fingers against it with the other. A blue glow forms around his finger tips and hold steady. Clayton would feel a quick surge of energy that stabilized into a gentle flow he could use at will.]
Can you describe what you have found?
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Somethin' big. Like the biggest soul I ever seen. Looks like the littler ones, kinda, but I feel like it's affectin' me, like I'm all jittery an'--
[A beat.]
--Oh, never mind, that's just you. Thanks!
[Now right next to it, Clayton has to turn away to keep the energy from overwhelming him.]
It's real strong, though. I can feel it. More power in this thing than...I dunno. I feel like the whole town oughta be glowin' from it.
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Now, he's under no illusions that spirits or whatever these things are can be hurt by physical bullets, but he checks his pistol over anyway, making sure it's ready. If something more solid comes their way, at least he can handle that.
Meanwhile, he keeps a metaphorical ear on the conversation in his head, but offers no input. He'll let Clayton describe what he's finding as he has time to explore.]
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[He reaches out a hand, blindly waving it around since he can't view the source directly. There's no heat and no resistance - like it isn't even there.]
[Vaguely disappointed, yet also relieved, Clayton pulls his hand back.]
...Wish I could. It's gotta be nearby, else I wouldn't 've spotted it. I reckon, one of the other houses. [He sighs, which is odd because his soul doesn't breathe.] Can't interact with it, so I can't get a sense of what it's near, neither. But I feel like we'll know it when we see it.
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[Pardon his dry sarcasm, though he means no harm by it - he's frustrated at the orb more than anything else. Always is, but this one in particular for the things it's done to toy with him and the others.
And the orb is certainly what that has to be, right? Just taken on some different presence in the spirit world than in the physical one.]
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I have had little luck attempting to ask the people native to this place about strange happenings. The few I brought it up to told me to stop drinking during school hours
[he is also somewhat frustrated - though at the lack of cooperation from the populace. something he's not used to.]
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[Return sarcasm, or serious? Hard to say, and Clayton doesn't follow that thought up with any clarifiers, instead following his tether back while Wangji expounds on his ideas. It takes barely any time at all to return; as long as he's still connected to it somehow, Clayton's mind is always one step away from him in the Astral, no matter the distance.]
Maybe there's more of 'em where the rest of the wisps are headed. I saw a couple other paths earlier - gonna pick one, see where it goes.
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[It's a gentle reminder, but it comes quickly. He's seen enough both before the Ximilia and now after to be cautious about making himself stand out, but the missions especially call for a certain amount of discretion. It's best for all of them that way, as he'd like to avoid a repeat of what happened on E-23b. It's easy to see how a worse result could happen than even the one on that world if they aren't careful - they don't have the orb in hand yet, after all.]
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