Event - Lullaby

[apocalypsehowmods]

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Lullaby

➥ For You Never Shut Your Eye

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, supernaturally-induced sleep disorders/somniloquy, needles/injections)

The line between waking and sleep is beginning to blur. People will find themselves sleeping far too much, but it never feels like enough. The music is growing more prevalent and persistent throughout town. The effect is still weaker within the building, but as October wears on, more and more people are affected and ADI staff are more intent than ever to find the source and also figure out how to block the effects. Characters will find themselves conscripted (between Halloween Party preparations) into assisting with building or testing anti-music and sleep devices along or with helping to try to track down the source of the music.

For those helping to build and test devices, there is an R&D lab in the basement levels of ADI that will be available. Devices native staff have been able to devise include:

• Headphones that play different frequencies to try to cancel out the sound of the singing.
  
• An armband that periodically stabs a small needle into the arm with a small dosage of adrenaline.
  
• Headbands set to a constant low vibration.

The efficacy of all of these devices is… questionable, but perhaps others may have their own expertise to lend to the efforts, attempting something on a broader scale than just personal protection devices.

For those helping to track the source of the music, finding it seems to be impossible, but there is a definite pattern that characters will note as the days pass. The epicenters of the music are moving, migrating out of the graveyards and converging on ADI Headquarters. As this goes on, the building will become less and less of a safe haven, the music penetrating its walls and affecting the staff there more heavily. You might find yourself having to help a neighbor who's fallen asleep while working. Or you might not even be able to fully tell they've fallen asleep as they sleepwalk and talk almost like they're actually still conscious. Even those who have never been prone to sleepwalking and talking may find themselves affected and… far more open with what they say when in the unguarded state of semi-unconsciousness.

➥ Till the Sun Is In the Sky

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, death by poisoning, blood, choking, emetophobia, death by crushing)

By the 25th, some people may find waking up to be a challenge in and of itself. But they do manage to wake up. Seemingly. Perhaps the day is much like any other, heading to ADI or out around the city, grabbing coffee and- something is wrong. Something is very wrong. That cup of coffee you just drank had tasted a little different than usual. A touch of almond to it? It hits you that your throat is burning, bile and blood rising up and choking you as you hack and gasp and vomit. Your legs grow weak, you're losing control of everything, falling, dying.

And then you wake up.

Just a nightmare. Just a bizarre and horrible nightmare. You head out and… is this home? You're home! Or maybe… wait, this doesn't seem right. Have you gone somewhere else? Some things might be familiar, memories intertwined and mixing with fantastical elements, some your own, some not. You notice people you recognize, ones who might be as confused as you are. This isn't where they should be and they remember dying, too. Or seeing you die or someone else. It doesn't make sense, but somehow, they remember they had a dream they shared last night. And then something falls from above and nearly crushes you or your partner. Or maybe it does crush them, and you're suddenly looking at a dead body as the world and this nightmare that feels so very real becomes more and more hostile. Maybe something falls on you.

And then you 'wake up.'

➥ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, body horror, detailed description of painful physical transformation, description of the loss and regrowth of teeth, violence, mental status alterations, temporary power-loss, spiders)

Even with people dropping left and right thanks to the odd sleep effect taking hold, ADI staff are hellbent that their Halloween party will not be completely ruined. And on the 28th (a little before the actual holiday), everyone wakes up. Or… seems to. For those trapped in dreams, it will seem very much that they've woken up, the music has stopped, and they can actually carry on. For a few days, it even seems like things are normal. The party on the 31st is a blow-out bash. The entire first floor of ADI HQ has been transformed with decorations. The canteen is serving festive food and has set up a dance floor with holiday-appropriate music playing. Some of the offices feature additional activities, including party games like bobbing for apples in a trough that's been brought in, a guess this gross food booth, and more general party games. For a quieter time, there are also areas set up with board games and card games to play. And for some extra fun spooks a mini-haunted maze has been set up with faux spiders and webs, along with other goofy-looking monster creatures.

It's around 9 PM when the music and lights suddenly cut out. There's nothing for several seconds. Then, a voice begins to sing, filling the halls of ADI. It's a young girl's voice.

"Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

Grandfather will come there, too,
And he will bring the coffin.
Grandmother will come along,
Her tears, they will not soften.
Mama sings the prayer song, then,
And falls down on her knees.
Daddy takes you to the grave,
No one can hear his pleas.

Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

As the last notes of the song fade away, all hell breaks loose. Those who had been wearing particular sorts of costumes, ones that are more monstrous in nature, may find themselves transforming, growing, twisting, shifting. It's not a clean change, but a violent, agonizing one that cracks bones, tears and reshapes muscles and tendons, pushes out teeth to make room for new ones. Those transformed will find themselves compelled to chase, to hunt, to kill anyone they can get their claws, teeth, or other appendages on.

For those who stay themselves, it's not just their transformed friends who pose a danger, but the decorations they've set up, as well. Those fake giant spiders and webs? They're no longer fake. Neither are any of the other demonic little creatures. The goal of everything in ADI and even outside for those who manage to make it out the doors, is to remind you how very, very mortal you are. Those typically possessed of fantastic abilities will find that they have been sapped away. There's no calling on magic or innate abilities. You are mortal and you are going to die like everything mortal does.

In the chaos, characters will catch glimpses of a young girl flitting amongst the chaos, seeming unperturbed by it all. Trying to catch up to her or speak to her is fruitless, but she's there, and she's humming that song from before.

➥ When He Nothing Shines Upon

(cw: supernaturally-induced fatigue/malaise, thanatophobia)

Those who are killed at the party will find themselves waking up wherever they actually fell asleep a few hours or even days ago. If your character was one of the lucky few who somehow managed to escape the effect, you'll notice people waking up all over ADI HQ and elsewhere. There are no signs of damage on the bodies, but those who died in the dreams will find themselves feeling incredibly weak and generally ill for several hours to several days after the experience.

The music has actually stopped, and this time, it would seem you've actually woken up. Depending on how long you were passed out for, that may be a more unpleasant experience for some than others. There's a message posted from a random ADI employee's phone a few days later to the network:

Mr. S was right. This was fun! I'll have to come back next year to play with you. - Ava, the Lullaby Girl

P.S. Sorry for stealing your phone, horsegirl67. But I wanted to say, hi. C:

Unfortunately, there are no further messages and attempts to respond to the message will receive no reply for now.

But... fortunately…? All of the Halloween preparations are still up, and there's a festive party to attend if anyone actually feels keen on trying it in real life. Pam Ruan, the main organizer is bloody-minded about it now and will have her God damn Halloween party, but those who work themselves up to attend out of festive spirit or morbid curiosity will find it a distinctly muted affair that breaks early in the evening.

Happy Halloween, Gloucester!

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Players are welcome to play NPCs for themselves when they are needed in a thread. If you need more information on general behavior for these types of NPCs, please feel free to ask! In general, the information provided in the prompt should be sufficient and you're welcome to make up any details beyond that for your specific scene. The Lullaby Girl (Ava) can be seen throughout character dreams, but they will not be able to interact with her during this event. They will either wake up or simply find that the physics of the dream are warped and she cannot be reached or there's a sheet of glass between her and the character or whatnot.
  
  
• FOR YOU NEVER SHUT YOUR EYE (15-24 October) - Characters are welcome to develop their own devices for attempting to stop the music. Characters will have modern day technology available to them along with a few slightly more advanced electronics and tools. Please do not go too out there. This isn't Tony Stark's array of tools and the like. But characters can create additional devices to test within reason. Some of them may be more or less effective, but with how sporadic the effect is, it might be difficult to tell what's actually working or not. There can also be negative side-effects from devices, if you'd like to play those out. Characters with the appropriate magical charge may also attempt to supernaturally block the music, but this will not be condoned or facilitated by ADI. Characters searching for the source of the music will not be able to find it, just discover that it is moving. For characters who are sleep-talking, they may find themselves unusually honest. They may or may not recall conversations with other characters and all that they told them.
  
  
• TILL THE SUN IS IN THE SKY (25-27 October) - Characters will experience repeated nightmares of dying in a shared dreamscape. They will remember every time that they die in the dreams. Feel free to get as creative and gruesome with this as you would like. These are dreams and fantastical situations that might not actually happen (e.g., a robot showing up and shooting a laser through your character) may occur. Players are welcome to introduce elements of their memories into the nightmares and mix those memories around between characters who might wind up in a dream together. Please ensure all top-levels are appropriately tagged for any and all content warnings. Add content warnings as you go along, if needed. Dying in the dreams will trigger the sense of waking up. This can be a fake wake-up or characters might actually wake for a short while and find others passed out around them.
  
  
• WHEN THE BLAZING SUN IS GONE (28-31 October) - Again, this will be a shared dreamscape where characters will be under the illusion (at first) that all has returned to normal. For those who investigate, everything seems to be real, nothing too off, excepting the night of the Halloween party. Once the Lullaby Girl finishes her song, characters who are dressed in costumes that depict animals or other monstrous creatures may find themselves transformed into their costumes. Transformed characters may gain powers for the duration of this prompt/event related to their monstrous forms without mod approval. Go wild, kill your friends and neighbors, and generally trash everything around you. The decorations that come to life will be attempting to murder all characters, transformed or not. If characters escape into the city, they will find all of the festive decorations out there have come to life and want to kill them, as well. Death is unavoidable for this particular prompt, but it can be something swift and painless or something drawn out and horrible at player discretion. It is the only way to actually wake a character fully. Players also have the option of keeping their characters awake. They will not experience the shared dreamscape and will just be stuck with a lot of unconscious people around them for the duration of this portion of the event.
  
  
• WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES UPON (31 October) - Ava, the Lullaby Girl, cannot be contacted or immediately located, but she will be available in future plots for interactions with characters. There is no immediate information regarding who Mr. S. is. Players may have the general sleep/death malaise last for a minimum of two hours and a maximum of three days. Regular medications for the flu can ameliorate some of the symptoms, but they will ultimately clear up on their own. Characters may wake up in whatever state players would like. Feel free to play out the effects of them having been slumped in a corridor for three days without food or water. It's going to be a bad time all around. Those who attend the real Halloween party will be thanked profusely by Pam and showered with candy. At least they'll get a few HR brownie points?

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Comments

deep sigh cw for reference to past sexual assault, some suicidal ideation, death

[ployboy]

[It's that tone, the nonchalance of someone who has lived more than any simple human should--] No. [No, he's not going to step near (to his credit he doesn't step any farther away). Tim can recognize the idiocy in himself but the irrational nature wins that particular war in his head.

Is it really irrational, though? This is a nightmare

why would he let the man any closer?] You're not going to touch me.

[And that's the fact of the matter.

Tim would be as dry as the deserted world of Titan if the blood loss mattered. Therefore: it's fine. He's fine. It hurts so much.

Does it hurt because he's staring down human remains up ahead, discovered by a gust? The body is hardly a body, flesh clinging to the skeleton.

He remembers crying. In front of Superman, Wonder Woman. The guilt of ever thinking the man was dead spurs on another helpless revelation. And this is all just one. sick. joke.] Darkseid is

[get it together, Drake. Tim can't afford superstition. A man can kill a god and he can control this.]

Darkseid's a New God. He had to be put down. I-- [heard the equation of Anti-Life and wanted to die, die, die--] Batman was lost. Everyone thought he was dead. He wasn't! I got him back. [And he'd done everything wrong ever since. Tim sucks in a breath.] I found a Mother Box. It wouldn't open. I was going to strike a deal with a god. See if they'd help. But the Box wouldn't open. I couldn't get to Apokolips.

again, he’s trying

[sorser]

[It’s the sort of rejection of his help that makes Stephen uncertain whether he should press the matter further; for all of his stubbornness, the wiling to be helped is crucial, though one might argue that Tim isn’t in his right mind to facilitate proper decision-making.

But then again, is Stephen? Everything feels so fluid, even the death of this wretched planet might transmogrify into something else, except the dust sweeps away and reveals only a corpse — or the remains of a skeleton, long degraded by time. Time, an unstoppable force that claims all; Time, which he had given away on this exact planet, years ago.

He shuts his eyes, scrubs at his face. It’s so hard to focus here.]

Stop being stubborn, Tim. You’re in pain. How long can you stay like that?

[Gods. Mother Boxes. Batman. The context swirls all around him, but their edges are slippery and unrooted.]

I don’t understand. What’s a Mother Box?

Cw death

[ployboy]

[It's so hard to think. It must've been the dusty grit clinging to the palms of his hands, or the corpse, that summoned this new wind of change. The desert sands are shifting, alternatively uncovering and devouring. It's not all human corpses-- there's a simple charred sedan and there's no way anything lives inside it anymore-- there's the metronomic beeping of medical equipment-- there's suitcases, contents revealing they're ready for a trip that would take month for the business executives they belonged to.

There's the silent and fresh bodies of Z and Owens, their faces frozen in hurt and their chests sliced open. The humvee and camouflage tarp is (and always had been) tauntingly out of reach.

There's a lot of death and it's not even the tip of the iceberg. But this is where things went wrong, where his life burned down (it always is burning. pain? he's had worse. he's survived it all.) and when he began to owe the Demon for his favor.

(It's all because of those damn spiders.)]

A Mother Box is...

[Far above his pay grade to wrap his head around, much less explain.

This world-- they're never going to get out of it.] They were created in New Genesis. They have masters. They know everything and they're like computers. [But alive? They can mourn.

Tim knows mourning.] I don't know. I don't know much about them. [--] I didn't want to bring back the dead. [--] I just wanted to know where to find him, in Time. That's it. I did. I don't know why I even mentioned the Box. It was a dead end.

cw; more death, brief mention of a child's corpse

[sorser]

[Perhaps it's a concept hard for either of them to wrap their minds around, a Mother Box that knows everything, that can solve everything. For Stephen, it merely sounds like a solution to a problem that Tim had rooted in himself like a nail that couldn't be removed without bleeding out too harshly. Maybe it's fitting, then, that he has that wound; maybe this place is more symbolic than literal like all nightmares tend to be. Neurons firing in the brain haphazardly, in which meaning is applied to by a stubborn, helpless consciousness.

More corpses. Faces he cannot hope to know, so they must be from Tim's memory. This place, this damn planet, is getting out of hand with them both standing here. There is a crux that this all revolves around, and Stephen thinks he knows what it is; an issue he had once struggled with, too.]

You can't save everyone close to you, Tim. You can try, but eventually, some things fall out of even our purview.

[The wind picks up, unearths more bodies. One is just a child, her skin glistening as though freshly pulled from water. The other is a bald-headed woman, her robes a stark yellow against the rust of the sand, bloody and mangled. Stephen does not look at either of them.]

Sometimes, you cause more harm than good, seeking to undo what can't be done.

[ployboy]

[He thinks it must be Pru, for a second, and he nearly cries out-- she wasn't supposed to die here, too.

("Here" doesn't exist.)

There's also a young girl, and when Tim turns on Stephen he feels the revolting dizziness of words said in anger.] You think I don't know?!

[That he causes more harm than good.]

That I haven't heard all of that before? If we bring back one life, then where does it end? [Where's the justice of it.

Justice: intangible, mystical.

What's eternal is this: bodies upon bodies. And being buried with them, under the sands.

(No.)

(It's not about him.)]

What happened to you on Titan?

and cw for disintegration too

[sorser]

[There’s so much anger tossed his way, the words overbearing with heat. But Stephen only looks at him, expression shadowed with concern — the sort of stern sympathy that he can drudge up to those he believes needs it. The circumstances are undoubtedly wildly different, but he understands the feeling. He thinks he does, anyway.

The question makes his frown deepen, makes him look tired.]

Myself and others, we fought a warlord here. Someone who sought to remove half of all life in the universe.

[Something aches. It’s subtle, at first, as subtle as it can be when something foundational begins to crumble. Like molecules losing their bonds, electrons disassembling. The material turning to dust.]

We lost. I— [Stopped existing. Was “blipped” into nothingness. Failed. No, gambled.]

—died. [He raises his hands, scarred and emblematic of so much, for Tim to see. Slowly, his skin disintegrates, floating off like dust caught in a cosmic wind. The fingers follow, slowly, fingertips to knuckle, knuckle down to palm.]

It was necessary. All of that death, that day. …sorry, Tim.

[And he is, his eyes fixed on the young man with a quiet apology, because he may soon realize that the same is happening to him.]

cw depressive thoughts, suicidal ideation, disintegration

[ployboy]

[It's a testament to good breeding, better training, and stellar self control: Tim doesn't flip off Strange.

The sympathy churns the lava in his chest, stuck in his diaphragm somewhere right behind his jawline, making his tongue and the rest of him that's useless burn. But the vitriol dies (everything dies for, by, and inside of Tim) and he sighs, air tasting like trash. It's fitting that there's rot inside him. He hurts.

He wonders-- and he thinks he has his answer-- about Wanda, briefly.

Not that it matters. He's alone, here. Dying. Again. Causing more harm than he ever should. If he was better (a bitter, hurtful word that turns the fire in his mouth to something sour and sharp tasting) he would have slotted the pieces together sooner and]

...okay.

[He's going to die and what overwhelms him

again

is this fantastic stir in his soul that promises--

It's bizarre. Strange is dissolving, like thousands of papercuts have decided to slice through the man's life itself, pieces of paper charring and scattering in the low, warm wind. Tim turns a curious, morbid gaze to his--

his legs are gone his guts are

he thinks, this shouldn't be about him and he promises]

It's fine.

[The panicked notion of holding on to that concerned, sympathetic, warm look of the man is-- well-- selfish.

And it doesn't matter, anyway.]

[sorser]

No.

[It isn’t fine, not really. That it had to come to this, a death that erased every existence of every life it touched, leaving only ash behind. It was fate that never should have come to pass, and yet it did — and here they are again, fading away, Tim having to experience it simply because of Stephen’s memories.]

But it will be. Eventually.

[Eventually, they have to wake up. Eventually, he came back into existence, even if it took five years and changed the world irrevocably. Eventually—

His hands are departed, his arms dissipating, too. And then it’s all at once, this crumbling away, and Stephen is gone, swept away the same way the wind tousles the sand of Titan.

And Tim is left alone in a deep silence, for as long as he can hang onto existence before oblivion may take him.]