The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsgolegion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
Entry tags:
SILENT HORIZON - [Part 1: The In-Between] [modplot]
Who| Everyone who signed up
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
closed to grif
He walks into what's clearly a graveyard. "Ooh. Spooky. Not."
That's when he sees the girl. She looks...strange, and he realizes that's because she looks different through each eye. When he looks at her through his right eye, it looks like her eyes and nose are torn away, leaving gaping holes. Her white dress is bloodstained and most of the hair's been ripped from her head.
But when he holds a hand over his right eye, through the left eye she looks...beautiful. She looks like a really cute teenage girl, around his age, wearing a white sundress. A little voice whispers in his head that that's the image he should trust. Everything about this situation feels normal, like it's some boring summer day back home in Piedmont or Gravity Falls. Through his left eye, the graveyard even seems like some sunny field in the Oregon woods.
"So, uh. Heeey. I guess? What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
It sounds way cooler in his head than it does out loud, but then she laughs like she thinks it's cute and Dipper smiles.
She holds out her hand, for him to take it and run away with her, and he knows she intends to take him to see secret things in secret places. He knows that this one day of summer around him can be endless, with him forever getting to find out all the things that are unknown. Every mystery is his to uncover and he can be an adult and a kid at the same time, exactly the way he wants to be. Forever.
He just has to take her hand.
To people the outside, however, it isn't a sunny summer day in a field. Dipper stands in a foggy graveyard, with a monstrous ghost floating in the air in front of him, reaching a clawed and rotting hand towards him.
no subject
A blur of orange shoots across the graveyard. Grif narrowly avoids tripping over a headstone as he notices something that looks like maybe someone he knows-
That's Dipper.
He backtracks to the gravestone he almost tripped over and stops.
That's Dipper and a goddamn ghost.
"Dipper!"
Grif zooms to grab him and haul him away from it, spooky fucker be damned.
"What the fuck, Dipper?!" he yells.
no subject
The rest of the dizziness and the feeling of unreality is being caused by the blood loss and the effect this place is having on him.
"Seriously? I was like this close to getting her number."
He holds his fingers just a tiny hair's width apart, talking about it like she was a normal girl and this is a normal summer's day. It looks like one to him; the blood streams are burbling happily and carnivorous flowers are in bloom. Everything is the way it should be.
He wipes at his face, which he can't seem to get clean even though he can't figure out why. Every time he pulls his hand away, it's covered in blood again, and then he wipes it off on his uniform -- which is already filthy from the blood he's already wiped on it. Then it starts over again, as he absently wipes his face and gets surprised at how he can't seem to get it clean...
"You're cramping my style, man."
no subject
"Dipper, you're bleeding all over the place in space. Nobody is giving you any numbers today."
Even scared, Grif can manage the explaining-simple-concepts-to-Kaikaina voice. Frustration just pushes further into it than it usually does.
"What happened to you?"
no subject
He shakes his head, as if his brain is having trouble registering that it's happening at all.
"But other than that, I'm fine."
Yeah, no, not fine. But he's so not fine he can't tell he's not fine anymore.
no subject
He's about to make some kind of important and certainly well-articulated point about this. He's in good, panicked, angry form.
Then there's a howling-wind shriek and Dipper's ghost girl presses her way out of one of the walls, clawlike hands extended.
"FUCK!"
Grif grabs Dipper and starts hauling him again.