A Spacemas Carol: December's Mod Event Log

[savmods]

Who: Anyone and Everyone
When: December 19 onwards
Where: Avagi... and beyond?
What: Your past, someone's present, and potential futures.
Warnings: Body horror and an associated image in the second part. Otherwise, label your content.

While the Ingress may have been destroyed, the energy powering it remains alive and well. The residents of Avagi know this intimately: from their own arrivals, from the portals that have appeared, and the short-lived changes (as well as longer-lived possessions) that have cluttered the station over the last few months. Recently, whatever force is manipulating this has even gone so far as to revive the dead—demonstrating, perhaps, an unwillingness to relinquish those it has brought to this place. To say this entity is seasonal would probably be a mistake. In the heart of Avagi's storms, there are no stars to mark the seasons, much less connect them to a certain planet's holidays—or the literature thereon. Still, from luck or from intention, the current fluctuations comes with a certain theme...

Past

It starts at the turn of the station clock's midnight. Flickers at the edge of one's vision. Indistinct whispers, ghosting through walls and down corridors. Those who are sleeping will be untroubled, but the wakeful and wary can watch the light build: from flickers to pulses, from pulses to pools. Over several hours, silver mist fills rooms and corridors, varying from a thin veil to dense, obscuring fog. If you step into the mist, you'll feel a sense of displacement; of sound and color, energy and a shift of life. Ingress travel. Except... not quite. Shortly after entering the mist, you'll find yourself free of disorientation and apparently free of physical form, unable to interact with your surroundings. As a quasi-ghost, you've been transported to somewhere and somewhen—a location from the past, back on a world of someone’s origin or from any place you've been since first arriving through the Ingress. While these experiences can vary wildly, some things remain consistent: The past matters: These visits to the past are not repeats of idle afternoons—each has emotional significance to someone currently on Avagi. The past cannot be changed: As real as any given scenario seems, you're fundamentally incapable of altering it. The past event will play out as it did in real life and dissipate when it reaches an ending. Trying has consequences: Attempting too hard to interfere increases the emotional significance, and will consequently draw onlookers further into the scene. You may find yourself anchored to any participant in the scene: first physically (experiencing the scene through their eyes) and then emotionally (experiencing their emotions and thoughts). If drawn in too deeply, you may lose track of your own nature during the experience, drowning in the sense of being someone else.. You are not alone: While immersed in a scene, you'll see nothing but the history playing out. However, at the its conclusion, the fog will once again displace the world around. As it melts away, you'll find themselves back in Avagi's halls—and face to face with whoever else was also viewing that piece of the past.

Present

Whether through one memory or several, eventually, the fog disperses. Only a faint mist remains, gathered in corners of the station's halls. It's simple enough to avoid, and nothing obstructs efforts to return to your rooms, your friends, or any other destination. Nothing, that is, except finding them. The layout of the halls has shifted. The clutter you so painstakingly cleared is back. The GPS on your ACE mistakenly reports that you are floating off in space far outside the station, and any efforts to locate or call your companions results in glitchy static. Something is interfering with your calls—more effectively than the distance between worlds. Inference and intuition are all you have to put together the pieces. The layout has changed, but the construction stayed the same. You're still on the former Ingress station. But not the same area that you called home. This is a different section of Avagi. An inhabited one. Dank, warm air pulses in and out of the vents in odd rhythms. Water damage stains the walls, and some seep dark liquid. There's an odd symphony in the distance: four notes, hummed to a pattern that buzzes in the back of your head. It's possible to wait it out. But if you do explore, you might come across your friends. And together, you might find the source. Further in, a wall of flesh fills the pathways, rising and falling with intermittent, massive draws of air. A fluid wash of features glues it to the bulkheads. Claws and eyes, hands and faces: half-made bodies shifting in and out of recognition with each pulse of breath. And always with the same gold glow beneath the skin. It's a familiar shade, to those who witnessed Thisavrou's destruction. It's the being who destroyed it. Those who flee will escape her notice. Those who wait may watch in secret for a time. Mother's focus seems to be elsewhere...or, perhaps, something else is hiding your presence here from her. Any attack on Mother's flesh shape, or any overt effort to draw her attention, will meet violent, immediate reprisal. You'll experience an immobilizing psychic force before the flesh consumes you. But whether you hide or fight or run, your time on this section of the station will end in the same way: a burst of brilliant, clear light providing transport back home.

Future

You flash back to reality amidst a burst of light—but this time, you recognize your surroundings. You have returned to the Avagi you know, and the silver mist that filled the halls has cleared. Over the next few days, most of Avagi will settle back into a state of normalcy. The ACEs are working properly, and station residents will have all the time they need to compare notes on their experiences—and, perhaps, on any plans to act on what they've learned. Avagi is not as empty as it seemed. And one place in particular will remain changed in the wake of the event. The Ingress Memorial, once inactive, has come to life, emitting a swirl of silver light that shifts and flickers, like the light of the portal it once contained. For the next five days, it will offer a vision to anyone approaching it: a single, brief scene from their potential future. Players have the following options: Canon future: Your character catches a glimpse of their future if they were to return from Avagi to their own world. This consists of a canon event. Avagi future: Your character catches a glimpse of their own future on Avagi. This can be a short-term future (i.e. an actual vision of a future scene you plan to play out), or a potential longer-term one in which they stayed on Avagi for months or years. Storm future: Your character catches a glimpse of themselves as a Mirtos—a desiccated husk and incarnation of the storm's hunger. As seen in Thisavrou's destruction, these creatures are carried by the storms and destroy all they come across. The visions can observed by any present when the Memorial is approached. And while the past is fixed, the future is always capable of being altered. What will you do regarding yours?

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[OOC: Check out the OOC post for more information!]

Comments

[clussy]

(He immediately thinks No, I really can't.

Eddie has tried his absolute best to keep this memory behind a white wall of nothing. He has tried to stop thinking about the leper at night, about what it said to him. Since arriving in Avagi, it has gotten a little easier. Since the other Losers showed up, it's become easier yet. But it still haunts him.

So much of it haunts him, so much more than Eddie even knew how to begin to articulate- especially because he was only twelve. He was only twelve and there was so much he was afraid about when it came to himself, so much he didn't want to think about, and so much that he didn't know how to think about. Eddie looks tired, looks so much older than any child their age had any right to be. He picks at the loose parts at the end of his cast, finger idly sliding over the opening where his fingers were poking out.)

I try not to think about it. (He confesses softly. Then because it scares him to bits and pieces, he looks up at Richie, his eyes large.)

But whenever I do-. I can't...figure it out. What do you think It meant?

(He's going to start there, because he doesn't know how to unlock this part of himself, but he also feels it'd be wrong to keep this entire situation away from Richie now that he's seen it. Now that he was asking about it.)

[beeped]

[Richie's quiet for a long moment, trying to choose his words carefully. If this were anyone but Eddie, the response would be easy. It sounds really fucking gay. But having grown up in Derry, and Derry being what it is, he knows that's not a good thing, even if he doesn't quite understand any other part of it.

He can't mention it to Eddie. He can't let his best friend think bad things about himself, and he certainly can't be the cause of it. But if that's not the answer? Then Richie doesn't know either.

Which sucks.

He wants to be able to help Eddie in some fashion, but he's falling short of it instead.] I dunno. [He reaches over to squeeze Eddie's hand. He might not have the answers, but he can at least reassure his friend that he's there for him.] Why didn't you ever tell me before?

[clussy]

(A wise choice on Richie's part. It was the one thing Eddie didn't let himself think, because the moment he thought it, it would be real. All those slurs on the Kissing Bridge would suddenly apply to his waking reality, and he could hear his mother gasping sharply, telling him Edddddie! You can't do thaaaaat! If you're sick like that, you have to go to Juniper. Eddie!

It would have made Eddie hysterical. They electrocuted gays up at Juniper. And that was almost a mercy compared to what could be done in the town itself.

Richie's silence is unnerving, and Eddie winds up chewing at his lip during it. He relaxes minutely when Richie says he doesn't know either, and is quick to squeeze his hand.

Richie's question is fair, and Eddie stares down at his knees. It makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, because it was a dirty secret. Something he'd kept inside for a while now.)

I...didn't want you to think badly of me. (He glares a bit at the ground, not looking at Richie.)

I didn't want you to think I was sick in the head or something.

(It's a very, very quiet admission, and he is soon shutting his eyes. Then he looks at Richie, steeling himself for louder, steadier words. Something a little further from the truth while not completely lying either.)

I didn't...I didn't really think it was important to mention either. That stuff is embarrassing to talk about so I just assumed...

[beeped]

Sure it's important.

[The words come immediately, though he hasn't thought through anything else he's saying. This isn't one of those times where he wants his trashmouth to get the best of him. The last thing he wants is to accidentally upset Eddie by saying the wrong thing.]

I'm never, ever, going to think anything bad of you, Eddie. You're the best person I know. [He pauses, tilting his head at Eddie.] It was probably just fucking with you, that's all. [Which he doesn't really believe that's the reason, but he does his best to sound like he does.]

[clussy]

(It hurts to pull his knees up then, but he does it anyway, resting his forehead against them and taking a deep, shaking breath. Everything in him felt like it had relaxed, but with it came the pain of having been tense for so long. Eddie cared a lot about what his friends thought; Richie in particular.

Maybe Richie doesn't do the best job sounding convinced of that, and Eddie knows it, but he was going to take it anyway and hold on. After all, It knew your deepest fears. Nothing It did was unintentional or for petty jump scares. Richie knew that as well as Eddie. Richie hadn't seen his werewolf in Eddie's timeline because he thought werewolves were scary. There was thought to every single facet of Its approach in sucking out the last of the fear from a child.)

Yeah....Probably. (His voice is small, and he feels something like a weight expand across his body and press. Eddie decided for once that being a stupid kid was the safest thing sometimes, even if it felt awful. He finally picks up his head and smiles weakly at Richie.)

I'm really sorry you had to see It. The leper's really fucking gross, isn't It?

[beeped]

[It's like a white lie, one that Richie feels a little bad for if only because he and Eddie were always honest with one another. But white lies were meant to spare someone from the truth, right? Like dad telling him he can't have any of mom's 'apple juice' because it's Irish.

So if keeps Eddie from being too upset, it's only helping him in the long run.

Still, Richie is glad for the slight change in topic. It's enough of a relief to draw a laugh out of him.] Oh fuuuuck, Eddie, I thought I was gonna hurl!

[clussy]

(It's still at the back of his mind, but louder than it ever has been before. Eddie has never talked about it with anyone, and to have talked about it for the first time with Richie of all people? It felt weirdly both like a relief, and a personal nightmare.

He winds up staring at his friend, feeling a burning wave of gratitude crash through him. He knows he doesn't have to ask Richie not to tell people what he saw. What he knows. He doesn't laugh, just watches Richie with a thoughtful look on his face.

There were certain things that he could do with Bill that he simply couldn't do with Richie. Certain pieces of affection that translated differently. The urge he has gets pushed down and locked away.But not entirely.

He leans forward and drops his head onto Richie's shoulder, turning his face inward, smelling whatever soap was used most recently to clean Richie's shirt. He presses his mouth there, and then picks his head back up, the surge of gratitude still a bit overwhelming.)

Yeah, you and me both.

[beeped]

[If Richie notices what Eddie does, he doesn't say anything. But that's how so much of their friendship goes: always being too close, in each other's space, affectionate, and not acknowledging vulnerabilities when it was important not to. This is possibly one of those moments, considering everything.

After a beat, Richie throws his arm over Eddie's shoulder and ruffles his hair with his other hand.]

Are you gonna be okay?

[clussy]

Yeah, I'll be okay. You guys are here. And It isn't.

(So there was really, in theory, nothing for Eddie to be afraid of anymore. If only that were so simple. If only he wasn't more afraid of himself, of adults, and so many other things. But with Richie here with his arm around his shoulders, it felt pretty easy to smile and think for now, he could be brave just this one time.)