(event) GHOSTS & HOSTS

[vestigemods]

GHOSTS & HOSTS

SEPTEMBER 22ND - 28TH

► WAS THERE ONE YOU SAW TOO CLEARLY? DID THEY FEEL TOO REAL TO YOU?

To some, the newfound territory within the containment zone is a blessing. Others, perhaps, worry that it may be a curse in disguise. The only way to find out which is true is, of course, to explore it for yourselves. But while the nature of the miles of new frontier remains ambiguous so far, one thing has quickly become apparent: You weren't the first to find it.

While every ounce of rationality (and all five or more of your senses) may tell you as you step into town or explore the farm's shady orchard that you're alone in this place, not a day has gone by since the barrier expanded that you haven't at some point felt a prickle along the back of your neck, or a subconscious tension inching through your body. Not a day has gone by that you haven't felt inexplicably watched.

Perhaps you told someone. Perhaps you kept it to yourself, for fear of sounding crazy. Either way, your suspicion is soundly validated on September 22nd as spirits begin to manifest all through the containment zone. Some are overtly hostile, utilizing their newfound traction on this mortal plane to wreak some form of harm. Others at first seem benign, but you'll quickly learn that no spirit here is truly harmless.

DID YOU TOUCH THEM, DID YOU HOLD THEM? DID THEY FOLLOW YOU TO TOWN?

You'll also learn quickly that very little that you do can stop them. Fists and blades sail through their intangible forms as if through fog, and unless you're actively working toward gaining them that which they seek (and even still then, sometimes), words do little against them either. So what can you do? Good news, research nerds: The answer lies in a book. A very familiar book, to those who were here when they and others rotted away or turned to glass. A copy appeared on the coffee-table of each cabin that month, and regardless of where it has gone or what has been done with it since, it does so again now with a formerly-blank space now filled in. The diagrams, it seems, depict what seems to be a spirit giving his heart to what seems to be a ramshackle beast. Below it, a figure seems to be waving an iron object through a spirit - insight on how to disperse one, even if not to kill it entirely.

But what are these ramshackle beasts they depict? The answer lies amongst the trees, stone-still and watchful. You may not even realize once you've spotted one - it hardly registers as a creature, a feral patchwork of skeleton and loose fur and misshapen flesh, limbs too long or too gangly, posture far too still to be canny. Very few still have eyes in the holes of their skeletal faces, yet there's no mistaking the way they watch you. It isn't predatory, for these aren't predators, but it's vigilant and unafraid.

It makes no move to attack. Instead, it offers acknowledgment - perhaps a less derelict creature might have offered a bow of its head, but all the beast can offer is a twitch-tilt of its skeletal head, a shift of weight from one forelimb to another. And from here, you may very well seal your fate. Should you choose to walk away, a halcyon truce falls between you and the beast, and it makes no move to threaten or hinder you as you make your way off through the trees. Should you try to approach or so much as flinch in the direction of your weapon, however, and the best is upon you in seconds, far more strong and fast and sharp than such a dilapidated creature has any right to be.

THEY WERE KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW, NOW THEY'RE ALL DEAD HEARTS TO YOU

Whether you fall prey to your better nature and strive to help each damaged soul find peace or risk life and limb to carve out the beating heart within each beast, the war against the spirits is not an easy one, and few escape it mentally and physically unscathed. It lasts for nearly a week, at which point you may very well have begun to feel hopeless, wounded and sleepless and unable to see any end to it all.

And yet an end does come. As September 28th approaches sunset, the spirits have begun to retreat. Even those who have one of the living in their clutches may stop abruptly, appear to draw in a bracing breath, then turn and step into nothingness, fading from sight right before your eyes. What has drawn or sent them away, and where have they gone? These are questions for another day. For now, take a moment to bask in the first time you've felt truly alone and unwatched in weeks as, deep within the woods, an array of beasts clamber serenely back into the muck from which they emerged.

You've done it. Or... at least somebody has.

► MOD NOTES

• This is a catch-all log for top-levels pertaining to September's Ghosts & Hosts event. Go ahead and utilize vestigenet for any event-related network posts you'd like to make.
  
• This event takes place between the IC dates September 22nd and September 28th.
  
• All event information can be found on the Ghosts & Hosts Infopost! The logs are largely flavor-text to supplement the information offered in the infopost.
  
• Feel free to use my Example Spirits list to inspire your own ideas, or even steal spirits wholesale from that list if you'd like! You're also welcome to bring me a theme or desired effect/ability for the spirit and have me brainstorm up a spirit idea for you.
  
• Please take care to label your top-levels with identifying information like the IC date and location, so that others can see at a glance if their character can hop in!
  
• Also make sure to label content warnings for any troubling subject matter in the backgrounds or present behaviors of spirits you create. Possible CWs coming to mind are for self-harm or suicide, excessive/vivid gore, any sort of abuse, or animal harm/death - but even if I haven't listed it, if it feels like it might need it then slap one on there anyway!
  
• Any questions can be directed to this top-level or, for a quicker response, to Trace on discord/plurk.

Comments

[lethechained]

[ The shrieking monster waiting for her on the edge of the water is more than enough to hold Naminé's focus. The possibility that someone might come to her aid from any other direction doesn't occur to her, so it's only at the last moment that she happens to glance over her shoulder in search of some better method of escape and instead spots Daemon approaching. His arrival is surprising enough, his method more so - although it's the former rather than the latter which gives the poor girl a start, her body twisting so that she can turn to stare as he finally lowers into the water.

At first her eyes are quite large, shoulders tense as she processes his question. But it seems fairly obvious even without his words that he isn't here to make the situation any worse; by now she's seen him in passing enough times to recognize that if he intended to be trouble, he'd have had plenty of chances to start much sooner than this. Letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Naminé deflates slightly. ]

Yes, [ she responds in a soft, hesitant voice, only to follow it up with an, ] I think so.

[ She says that, but the poor thing looks a bit worse for wear. The run has left her winded, shoulders trembling faintly; it looks like the ghost got hold of her at least once, if the angry red of finger-shaped burn marks on her arm are any proof at all. The hand that made them was clearly much larger than her own small one - which tries unsuccessfully to cover the injury - and the unpleasant smell of burnt cloth and the singed end of her golden hair indicates it caught at other parts of her as well.

Lips pursed, her face looks strained, but her frown is perplexed rather than fearful. (Which isn't to say that she's not afraid, because she is, but--) ]

He just-- won't listen, no matter what I say.

[singularwidower]

[Even as she says she's fine, he's giving her a sharp, concerned once-over.]

You're injured.

[And that just won't do. Soaked up to his knees, he wades toward the shore, putting himself physically between her and the ghost, one hand up as if to create a shield, but not yet doing so. There's no telling how swiftly he might run out of power, even with something so simple as a shield.

When he speaks, his words are low and certain, his eyes fixed upon the disobedient ghost. They seem to function upon different rules that the ghosts he is familiar with.]

If he's too angry to communicate with, we can destroy it. I would prefer you do not become further injured.

[lethechained]

[ The girl draws in a little air, as though she might protest - but she can't exactly argue the point that she's been hurt. There's no hiding it even were she inclined to. Concern knits her brow as Daemon begins to wade closer to shore, though she doesn't speak again until he's made his intentions clear. Her arms pull up against her midsection in a way that suggests that if she weren't hurt, she'd be gesturing along with her, ]

Wait--!

[ Judging by the way she tensed up when he walked in front of her, she's worried about his well-being - but she's not discounting his claim, either. What he may or may not be able to do is outside of her knowledge, but Daemon seems awfully certain about his options when it comes to dealing with the ghost. So, ]

If you destroy it-- what happens then? He may not be able to...

[ Well, what's meant to happen to ghosts after that? Do they cease to exist entirely? Are they banished to the afterlife? Not knowing for certain, Naminé balks at the idea, no matter how necessary it might seem. Mouth twisted in a sympathetic frown, she peers past Daemon at the ghost still pacing on the shore. Steam rises up when it gets too close to the water. ]

... He just... wants to stop suffering. [ She sounds awfully sure about that, herself, though the tone of her voice is sad. ] I think he thinks that the way to do that is by hurting everyone else. Maybe - there's another choice.

[ Which she's had time to contemplate while being stuck in the lake; it was the execution on such an idea that was the problem. ]

It doesn't look like he likes water, but... if he stops burning, he might feel better.

[singularwidower]

[He inclines his head at her 'wait,' but does not take his eyes off the ghost. He doesn't want to take the chance that it might also be able to throw fire, even if its movements seem stymied by the waterline.]

He would be destroyed. [This is said gently but matter-of-factly.] Even if he's lashing out in pain, he is still lashing out, and there are consequences for such a thing.

[Consequences named "Daemon," in this instance. Still, he is not unsympathetic, even if he is itching to get the young woman safe, away, and tended to.]

Do you prose we douse him, then? Or wrestle him into the lake?

[lethechained]

[ Although the spirit grows increasingly frustrated, the only thing it seems to be able to hurl is its voice. That said, there's no harm in staying prepared; Naminé's almost equally reluctant to take her eyes off of the creature, even as her features crumple slightly at Daemon's confirmation. With a narrow shake of her head, ]

Wrestling him while he's still on fire probably wouldn't work. I'm not sure we can even touch him through normal means.

[ The ghost, however, certainly didn't have any trouble doing damage itself - case in point, that handprint on her arm. ]

If we could splash him, or pull him in some other way...

[ The girl hesitates. She can think of a few methods, actually, but most of them aren't available to her. For a second she eyes the back of Daemon's head, appraising; going by his stance and that trick he used to get across the lake earlier, he's clearly got some sort of abilities that she'd be inclined to guess are magical. Perhaps there's no danger in bringing it up. ]

Magnega might work - or Blizzaga... but I can't cast either of those on my own. Do you know of any other spells that could help?

[singularwidower]

No, probably not. Normal means will just get us roasted.

[His easy agreement doesn't quite match the snarls of the ghost. At her words, though, he tilts his head so he can better hear her, splitting his attention for the moment to furrow his brow.]

Magnega? Blizzaga?

[He repeats the words in the careful tones of someone who recognizes that they are, indeed, words, but not ones that he knows. Still, he gets the context of them from her mention of 'spells.' After a pause, he dips his head.]

Yes. Something very like a spell, at least.

[And with a gesture, he vanishes a healthy several bucketfuls of water from the lake near their feet, a sudden absence that causes the water to churn and clap as it rushes to fill the space. He calls the water back in above the ghost's head and lets it fall. The immediate hiss of steam is very satisfying indeed.]

[lethechained]

[ Although she can tell right away by Daemon's tone that he's unlikely to be familiar with the forms of magic in question, she still confirms the names with a quiet, 'yes,' from behind him, tiny nod and all. Her mouth works itself into a faint frown as she awaits a full answer, and she's already giving thought to what else they might try.

But then he follows that up with an affirmative of his own, and Naminé's eyes blink a little more widely open, surprised and curious. Her lips part to inquire what he means by 'like' a spell, only for an example of the very same to stop her short. The small girl jumps with a faint squeak, clearly startled by the water's unexpected departure and the resultant splashing. She's still trying to determine the cause when the hissing of steam and furious cries of the ghost redirect her attention, and from there it's not hard to piece the events together.

Peering past Daemon as best she can, Naminé tries to discern the creature's figure amongst the vapor. As more of it dissipates, the ghost becomes clearer again - as does the impact the water had on it. Where before there were roaring flames wreathing its whole body, now the entity seems wrapped in weaker, sputtering fires. The form underneath it is humanoid in shape, but now that it's clearer resembles a charred corpse far more than it does a living being. Its rage appears unsated all the same, but the thing struggles to keep its feet, swaying dangerously in place. ]

It worked...! But...

[ The girl hesitates. It doesn't take long, however, before her focus shifts; she's made use of her skills already today to learn about this creature, and this time is no different. Unaware that her company might possibly have any way of noticing her actions, Naminé brushes carefully at the ghost's mind. It's as confused and angry as ever, and it still doesn't like the water, but maybe if she were to give it just a little nudge, it wouldn't be so resistant. Teeth sinking into her lip, she falters, yet presently - there comes a tiny tug from her mind to the ghost's. ]

That wasn't so bad, [ she murmurs aloud, sympathetic, ] ... was it?

[ No, apparently, it wasn't, since after a beat the still-shrieking ghost finally decides to take a step forward into the lake. Which... might be alright, except for the fact that it's moving pretty aggressively, and doesn't stop at merely one stride. Clapping both hands over her mouth, ]

Oh...!

[ It doesn't look like the thing will reach them before it goes the rest of the way out, but its approach might nonetheless be valid cause for alarm. ]

[singularwidower]

[Daemon is ready for the creature when it comes striding into the lake. As much as he'd like to meet aggression with aggression, he defers to the young woman's preference. If she wishes the ghost spoken with, he is not going to summarily attempt to kill it before they've tried.

Instead he throws up the kinetic shield he was waiting to use. Made of psychic energy, it glitters with a faint black static in between the ghost and them. Water sloshes around his legs as he pull back deeper into the lake, half-herding her behind him even though he has them shielded.

The ghost smacks into the shield and where it impacts, the air flashes an opaque black.]

What did you do?

[The question is directed at her rather than the ghost. Because the ghosts responds was not what he would have expected, and he'd caught the faintest edge of something before it had begun its advance.]

[lethechained]

[ The creature bashes into the shield bodily, clearly unaware that it was there. The water seethes around the ghost, heating up as though it were at risk of boiling. Although the fires surrounding it have almost completely gone out, the steam continues to rise from the ghost's form itself as it begins to claw ineffectually at the shield.

Naminé shuffles back when Daemon insists upon it. Although her own instinct is to retreat from the advancing creature, she's more hesitant to go deeper into the lake than she otherwise would be because it presents a threat to her on its own; she's not exactly a strong swimmer, after all. Expression one of startled concern, she's unable to see much past her protector other than the outer limits of the opaque air and the steam still rising from the ghost. ]

Me? [ She's exactly as surprised as she sounds, caught enough off-guard by the question that it manages to cut through the distraction of the wailing entity trying its best to get at them. ] I didn't--

[ ... mean to, she never finishes. The other option for ending that statement isn't one she's willing to entertain either; she wasn't expecting to be caught using her powers but she's not about to lie to him over it, even if the notion that he found her out is baffling to her. Clearly he's realized something happened, and it's not as though he doesn't obviously have abilities of his own. Perhaps she ought to have been more careful. ]

I only thought-- maybe if he realized the water could help him, he might calm down.

[ It's so much easier to manipulate the recollections of something that isn't alive anymore, after all, that she had to try - even if it was a little adjustment like making the ghost remember more sharply how the water felt soothing. Although actually, she might have been onto something. The ghost's efforts are slowing, in fact, and although it still struggles against the barrier, the creature seems to be... sinking? It happens gradually, almost like the spirit is dissolving into the mist still rising around its body. ]