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.
no subject
"Dipper? Oh god, your eye. What..."
... Yeah, no. So much for wishful thinking.
"Dip, hey. Come on, stop talking like that." She says, inching and stepping away from him. "Snap out of it! You're not thinking straight. You gotta just..."
Don't do this to her.
no subject
His voice cracks when he speaks again.
"See, he showed me what I would've become."
His face falls, and he looks like he's lost in his own little world of pain.
"I left her behind and didn't even realize it," he says sadly. "Or maybe it's more like Mabel is going to leave me behind. She won't mean to; it won't be her fault. I think I just went too many places that she'll never go -- that I don't want her to have to go to."
He can't cry out of the socket of the eye that's missing, but tears still somehow work their way out of the eye that's sewn shut.
"I was just going to be this weirdo that doesn't belong anywhere. Too screwed up to keep being a hero, too weird to be a normal kid. And she was going to try so, so hard, but the only way to make it so I wasn't alone would've been to drag her down into all the messed up, broken stuff with me."
He shakes his head, his lips trembling. The tears leaking through the sewn up eye are a mirror to the blood dripping down the other side.
"She deserves better than that. Now she'll just be sad, and grieve, and move on, and be fine. All of the dark, sad stuff that I was going to drown in? Now it can't get to her through me."
It's better this way. It's better than being some loser kid hyperventilating in class from a panic attack because the movie they're watching has a character that looks like one of the Yellow Lanterns that tortured him. It's better than eating every lunch alone in the library because Mabel has a different lunch period and otherwise he'd be sitting by himself, ignored. It's better than being awkward and moody and unable to talk to his parents about it without making them ship him off to a psychiatric hospital or something. It's better than being laughed at and whispered about and called a freak under people's breath.
It's better than being so, so, so alone with all those bad feelings that the whole world just goes dull and gray around him, because the only way he can cope with it is just trying not to feel anything at all.
It was going to be a future of endlessly watching her walking away, laughing with her friends, and knowing that if he tried to butt in, he'd either just be some awkward hanger-on or even make her social life as messed up as his.
Until what? Going to college, and then not even having Mabel around anymore? What would he even major in? Crazy Loner Manifesto Writing?
no subject
"Mabel, she... She can make her own choices. We all have our choices to make. Some of them screw us up a lot. And some we wish we could take back every day. Hell, I'm no different." God no.
"Whether or not you think she deserves better, that's up to her to decide, and something tells me she'd still pick to follow you wherever. So just..."
So much blood.
"Damn it, stay with me over here." She asked, pleaded, taking a chance and gripping his shoulders.
no subject
The yellow light burned bright.
"It happened when the yellows dragged me away. I can't fight it anymore: the yellow light. It's been burning me up inside ever since." His voice grew quieter. "And it started doing it even before. Because of him."
The one he'd seen when the two of them had punched each other until they both bled in the magical trap outside the Spectre's tomb. Him.
"I already took his offer. He gave me somewhere I can belong. Now I'll never be the weirdest one in the room."
His arms started to shift and lengthen as he mutated. His sleeves had already been ripped and damaged but now they shredded as his body changed. Bones made terrible cracking noises as they bent in ways they weren't supposed to go.