![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ximilian) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ximilialog2023-11-11 07:59 pm
- ! event log,
- ! log,
- ace attorney: phoenix wright,
- ace attorney: ryunosuke naruhodo,
- bbc sherlock: john watson,
- castlevania (netflix): alucard,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- mcu: bucky barnes,
- shta: sherlock holmes,
- star wars: ahsoka tano,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- the untamed: lan sizhui,
- the untamed: wei wuxian,
- xenoblade chronicles: noah
MISSION: THE SUN NEVER SETS ON AMARYLLIS GROVE, PART 2
● ● ● M I S S I O N 1 7 . 2
After weeks spent in the ever-sunny town of Amaryllis Grove, the Orbers are surely used to their way of life: days spent focusing on living as perfect a life as possible, regardless of how real it is, under the watchful eye of the sun and the moon.
However, some Orbers may wake up one day to find that whoever they were living with — Joel, Harley, Cain, Gabe, and others of the team who have suddenly returned to their homes — is gone… but by the evening, they have been replaced by one of the Companions, made to their exact liking, going silently about their business in perfect imitation of the one they are replacing.
Furthermore, those who were found to be on the list of names of people to be watched will one day, while at work, receive a talking-to by their superiors, giving them a warning that their behaviour has given reason for concern — each talking-to ends with similarly, too:
“The sun is always very bright leading up to the Harvest Festival.”
The day of the Harvest Festival dawns with clear skies, the autumn wind rustling the newly-turned red and gold leaves in the trees and on the streets. The Housespouses have been hard at work arranging everything for the festival, from seating arrangements, decorations, and booths for different activities. Everyone is expected to attend, and with the day being an official holiday, there is no excuse not to show up.
1.0 During the weeks leading up to the festival, neighbourhoods have been abuzz with trying all the new recipes, all in preparation for this one day: bringing their very best pies, cakes, stews and roasts for everyone to taste. Many housespouses (whether part of the association or not) are eager to show off their cooking skills, either by making as many people try their foods as possible, or by participating in some of the traditional competitions that look for the the best dish of this harvest.
However, there is plenty to do for those whose main interest in cooking lies in eating: there are games to try, like apple bobbing, and a fun take on darts where rather than aiming for the middle, the goal is to state which ring you are going to hit and receive points for accuracy. There is also a whole table for decorating gourds — and if you are very happy with your result, you can also enter the contest for the most extravagant decorating.
2.0 When the time comes for all to gather around the long tables set in the town square, each table brimming with delicious dishes, the tablecloths and centerpieces in bright oranges and reds, some of the people around the tables may cause you to be surprised: it is not just the townspeople who are invited, but also the Companions, sitting in their assigned seats silently, eerily. There are more of them than one might expect: almost every other family attending has at least one Companion among them, a family member lost and replaced. However, questions about their presence are not tolerated, and those who may try and bring undue attention to them are quickly shushed.
One might also notice that despite the beautiful weather (or perhaps because of it), the atmosphere of the festival seems tense — smiles are strained, words carefully chosen, discussion remaining on the surface level.
Overhearing the different families speaking to one another, something to note is the way they refer to their distant relatives: it seems that Mr Willowby’s cousins, living out of town, were not able to make it this year; just like Mrs Reyes’ great-aunt, who is again missing out on a wonderful festival. The more you listen, the more you notice that there are no relatives visiting from out of town… and that it seems to be a yearly occurrence.
3.0 While the general atmosphere is very genial and welcoming, a few of the Orbers — mainly, Newt, Daisy, Yzak, Ryunosuke, John and Chishiya — will find that them, along with their (fake) spouses or family, are treated almost outright coldly.
Some of the townspeople will quite simply avoid associating with them, while others will exchange a few hasty pleasantries before making an excuse and leaving them alone, glancing fearfully at the bright sun in the sky as they do so. The dishes they or their families have brought go largely untasted, and other Orbers may catch the townspeople warning them against associating with “those kinds of people” too closely — after all, best to take care of yourself, right?
When you wake up the next morning, you’ll find that Amaryllis Grove suddenly feels a little … different. The Harvest had gone seemingly without a hitch (at least for those who hadn’t wound up on the list), but the tension that remained since your arrival here seems to have grown a little more intense. It’s quiet when you step out of your house expecting to see your neighbour greeting you by the mailbox, or to be down at the end of the driveway collecting their daily paper. You note the absence of the neighbour who lives down the block who often walks this way to get to the park with her daughter.
Things feel too eerily still, and as you peer up into the sky, you’ll notice that the cloud cover makes it impossible now to see the sun.
4.0 When someone screams, the first thing that may come to mind is how the last time you’d heard something so bone-chillingly devastating in this town alone was the night that Mr Myrsden had died. It’s broad daylight now, and the cry is still no less terrifying. You might decide to wait, or to hide wherever you are, or for those of you with a plethora of experience in dealing with life-ending screams, you may decide to investigate. After all, someone could be in very real trouble and they could need your help.
A small crowd has already gathered by the time you arrive, dressed in whatever you went to bed in. A woman in her plush pink robe and curlers still haphazardly rolled into her hair is lying on the asphalt in another neighbour’s arms, expression fearful and pained but still – thankfully – breathing.
“She’s just fainted, she’ll be all right,” Mr Barker says in relief, helping to sit her properly so that some of the other neighbours could tend to the fainted woman.
Within the crowd, several statements could be heard in hushed murmurs: “Said that her husband isn’t moving right,” someone says, while someone else begins, “Something feels wrong with my Betsy, too.”
There’s an air of unrest and discomfort amongst the crowd gathered at the side of the street, but at least the worst of it appears to be over. And so you’ll try to continue your life in Amaryllis Grove with the rest of your family (the Mayor has called for some volunteers to help with the clean-up from the Harvest, after all!), but you begin to notice strange things occurring throughout the day: Companions that had been programmed to follow a painstakingly careful path of activity appear to either stop moving, or begin actions on their own accord. Spouses or family members look between the overcast sky and their Companion in panic, shaking at their arms or shoulders, or tugging at their sleeves in fear. In fact, the town suddenly feels more populated than ever now as more and more people and their Companions mill into the streets in a truly unprecedented gathering, unraveling the meticulous routine they’d been living up until this point. Orbers may observe the familiar figures of Finn Mertens, Cain, and Joel Miller joining the throng. Harley Quinn and The Spot, done up in perfect likeness appear outside of their programmed routine.
And from above, even through thick cloud, the sky feels brighter somehow.
5.0 The initial shock of the Silent Companions moving out of sync wears off so long as they wander throughout town looking like they’ve lost their way. It’s easy enough to sidestep them if they cross into your path, and their former spouses and family members have largely appeared to have given into the malfunction, allowing them to meander the neighbourhood without aim. The Mayor announces that she’ll hold a town meeting for all people with a Companion this afternoon, hoping to reestablish a little order and assure comfort for the fearful and worried residents of the town. This is, after all, an unprecedented occurrence and no amount of convincing, magic or otherwise, has had an effect on the Companions out and about in town.
But then … the Silent Companions suddenly begin to move differently, the perfectly pleasant expressions carefully molded onto their faces remain unchanging as they lift their hands or quicken their pace, approaching anyone within close distance with menacing intent. They appear to stalk their targets, reaching out to close an iron-grip on a wrist or a shoulder, largely undetected except by those who recognize their faces and know them to be deceased in a former life. Orbers might find that aside from recent deaths, as well as the disappearance of some of their own crewmates, that from first glance it’s difficult to tell a Silent Companion from a living resident until their intent is made clear.
Anyone that reaches out to one of the Companions on their own, or is intercepted by one, will find that the interaction feels far more potent than ever. Mild feelings of paranoia are heightened into active and aggressive feelings of paranoia. Every negative and intrusive thought feels as though it might choke you, and the only way to stop it is to do it yourself – by whatever means necessary, even if they are violent. You might find yourself believing that your own family wants you dead and the only way to survive is to kill them before they kill you. The effects of nausea and discomfort make you immediately sick, and wanting to scratch incessantly at an itch that doesn’t exist, as if your very skin makes you deeply uncomfortable.
Cloud cover slowly begins to part now, and the bright, cheerful glow of the sun peeks through. It bathes the town in its perfectly pleasant light.
6.0 The last thing anyone can think of now is the Mayor’s town hall meeting. People begin to barricade themselves in spaces that seem devoid of a Silent Companion’s physical presence. Companions will pace hover nearby but so long as you remain out of their sightline, they don’t come directly after you. Orbers that have made friends and connections with their neighbours or any of the other townsfolk might consider sheltering together, finding an empty house or office, or seeking safety in a cellar with the windows and doors blocked off.
Of course, some of you might find that the doors to your own home are blocked off, the handle simply refusing to turn, or your keys suddenly snap in half, jamming the keyhole. Windows are locked shut as though the house itself is trying to keep you out, leaving you and your fellow crewmates exposed beneath the ever-brightening sky.
And even if you do manage to break into your own home, either by smashing the in the glass of the windows, or physically kicking the doors in, the house itself might feel as cold and unwelcoming as though it knows full well who you really are, why you’re really here, and what you’ve come to do. You feel more seen in your own living room than you do in the open street, the discomfort of being hunted and exploited wearing on you like a slippery, wet blanket. The walls feel suffocating, the food in your pantry and your fridge tastes like ash and rots within hours, and you feel as though the ceiling above you might cave in on you at any given moment just because you’re here.
The sky now has cleared completely, leaving nothing but the harsh white and golden glow of the sun hanging high above within the bright, beautiful blue overhead. The town itself is a reflection of something much darker and more chaotic, but the temperatures are warm and pleasant and there is very little shadow being cast by the sun itself as it greedily swivels around on its axis in watch.
7.0 Amaryllis Grove suddenly feels like a whole different town when compared to the Orbers' initial arrival. What had been a quiet and well-orchestrated little town without a single hitch for every perfect day of every perfect month, every cog in the machine a well-oiled one, suddenly seems to have crumbled apart. Doors, windows, and cellar entrances have been blocked off and barricaded with heavy household appliances such as refrigerators, laundry machines, and meticulously-crafted furniture. Shattered glass and broken parts of a Silent Companion that had met some partially-successful retaliation are strewn across the asphalt. Cars are left abandoned at the sides of the streets, doors hanging wide open and groceries spilling out from bags and onto the pavement. People still left stranded in the streets, locked out of their own homes, become helpless victims to their very creations, driven to madness and tortured by a familiar and well-loved face that never wears any other expression except that of perfect unfeeling neutrality.
For those that manage to make it to the town hall and the office of the Mayor, they’ll find her pacing back and forth, scrubbing at her face in deep thought. Her husband, Stuart, sits poised and tense on one end of a long chaise against one wall, watching his wife in concern. Any resident is welcome into the overly large room, of course, and luckily for the group no Companion has caught on to the location just yet. The Mayor has posted her very best magic-users at the doors, however, just in case. It isn’t going to do much more than slow them down but it’ll buy them some time to escape at least.
The Mayor, looking uncharacteristically flustered and stressed, turns to you.
“Well? I hope you’ve brought a genius idea with you, because I truly am at a loss.”
no subject
He sneers, letting out a dismissive scoff. ]
This has been nothing but hell! And that's in no small part thanks to you!
[ Newton can grip at his wrist and push back as much as he can, but Yzak is stronger. And so the blade of the knife in Yzak's hand presses in closer, sharp and deadly tip of it pressing against the other man's face. It draws blood, and the strain of resistance means limbs shake and the blade drags a couple of inches across his skin as a result.
He doesn't yield there, clearly intending to kill if he must. And he clearly seems to think that he must. ]
no subject
And then there's a scrambling, before his other arm swings up suddenly, plunging the twin teeth of his homemade taser into Yzak's ribcage where it hangs over him.
Hope you enjoy getting a hell of a lot of volts of electricity coursing through your midsection, bud. The moment he can, he scrambles, tries to drag himself backward and out of Yzak's range, lashing out with one foot to try and knock him backward across the concrete.]
Shit!
no subject
N-nngh, f-fuck...!
[ He spits out more through gritted teeth and pained coughs, hunched over on his side and arms wrapped around himself. The sounds Yzak makes and the way his body still attempts to move to recover reflects that he's trying to fight it, to shake it off so he can continue.
But, well, even he can't so easily. ]
You ... you son of a bitch...
1/2
Oh, eat shit, dude! You started it!
[Yzak is too busy struggling where he's hunched in on himself to stop Newt from giving him a good solid whack on the crown of his head with a fist. Sorry, that's just the frustration situation talking. Sometimes when your buddy tries to kill you, you get cranky and give them a good smack. He has to school his fist back to not commit to another punch — his weak little knuckles wouldn't be able to handle it anyway — and he instead stands with a hand on his knee and the taser hanging in his fingers.
Jesus.
He stands up fully, adrenaline and jaw pounding, feeling something warm pulse out of his cheek that he is 99.9% sure isn't sweat. Face injuries are just bleeders, it's fine, it's all good. Breathlessly, as he looks around:]
Shit, Yzak... Call me stupid, but I'm not gonna leave you here. We're friends, and friends don't ditch friends when their brains are out of their own control. That's what you guys all did for me, remember? I can return the favor.
no subject
Can you help me find my glasses, man? I can't see without my glasses.
And if you broke 'em, you're in charge of fixing 'em.
Right, bud? Did I install a glasses repair kit in that arm of yours?
no subject
The words that reach his ears mostly sound like a faint echo, but terms like friends, control, help all stand out, sound louder in his mind and his subconscious. Struggling on the outside, struggling on the inside, the influence of those whispers are still stronger even with that jostle. ]
When I get up— your glasses are going to be the least of your worries...!
no subject
Think about why we're here, and how we got here. All this work we've done; you can't just throw it away because some piece of shit eyeball wants you to lose your cool.
[He wipes his face with his forearm, smearing blood and sweat off on his sleeve.]
I'm your friend. Remember? We totally came a long way, too. First time I ever talked to you, we just shrieked at each other and now — okay, so it's not that different from now, but. We've been through the worst of it together. From mission numero uno. I know you know, under all the weird mind-altering orb control.
Focus. You're a coordinator, aren't you? You got this.
[Please don't make him shock you again, buddy.]
no subject
I'm doing this because— I'm not losing it...!
[ Isn't he?
His eyes squeeze shut, his hand still pressed against his head. ]
Can't let you ... or anyone else ruin it all and take it away from me. After all this...
[ All of the work he's done. The work ... they've done? Together. Like Newton said.
No, if he trusts in it too much, relies on it too much, they're just going to take advantage of it and fuck him over in the end.
Right? ]
no subject
[Or at least Newt hopes as much. There's admittedly some small part of him that wonders if maybe he's ruined a few things; it wouldn't be the first time, and even after all these months he still has his moments when he reflects on some of the things he'd inadvertently caused.]
'After all this'... Right. After all this, do you wanna end it with a dead teammate? I'm not buying it, man. Not you. [He scoffs, crouching to rest on his haunches.] We're besties. Think about everything we've been through together, before this very moment; I don't wanna go through anything else unless you and the others are with me, pal.