niteo_logs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Characters: You, you, and YOU.
When: June 11th - June 24th
Where: Nesreca. Everywhere.
Rating: PG and up.
Summary: The fog is everywhere. Sounds are heard at night. There are no inhabitable buildings. What do you do?

This is an open log for the event. Feel free to log anything and everything your characters would do during this event if you wish to!

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While Allen may not be doing much to disguise his presence, the unfortunate fact is that Lenalee's taken to trying to ignore most voices that aren't her own. The music, the voices, the giggling and the howling; after last month's creature feature, she thinks she might go insane if she doesn't. So at first, she barely hears the crunch of gravel beneath his heel, and his voice may as well belong to the ghosts she's beginning to believe really haunt the city.

But only at first. Allen's words circle mindlessly in her head for a little while after as she strides through the fog with increasing trepidation, not entirely aware that she had even heard them-- but she had heard them. Soldier's instinct and all that. After a few revolutions, her name catches in the forefront of her mind, and while it sends a chill lancing down her spine, it also makes her pause. There hadn't been any whispers of her name before, so what was that...? Was she imagining things? She chances an uneasy look behind her, pretty much prepared to see another wispy figure barrelling towards her like back at home, and it's about then that the rest of his call catches up to her.

"--Allen?" It isn't particularly loud-- more surprised, weakly hopeful. No ghosts, no more ghosts. Please. After a pause, Lenalee takes a hesitant step forward and raises her voice to be heard over the resonating music. "Is someone there?"

On the other hand, Allen's been through seven whole months of creepiness, and since these sounds are proving to be just sounds thus far, nothing he has to worry about protecting people from, he just finds them really bloody annoying. Eerie music? Can't even compare to the abject horror he feels at the sound of Cross popping yet another bottle he can't pay for. Wolves? Better than no game at all, really. Disembodied voices? Been there, done that. In his own head.

Suffice to say Allen's a little desensitised, and unlike Lenalee, he's actually keeping an ear out for her voice. The final note of her call has yet to fade away before an answer is already ricocheting back at her, familiar, strong, and so very relieved.

"―Lenalee, it's me!" And if it also sounds kind of raspy, hopefully that isn't half as important as the fact that it's close. A pause before he shouts again, quite aware that it's a ridiculous question in context, "Where are you?"

And her heart makes a valiant stab at doing a backflip. Oh, thank god, a voice-- a friendly one, most importantly (though she'd be a petty liar to deny that it being his doesn't help)-- and luckily for Allen, that alone overwhelms her concern for the hoarse quality to it.

Uselessly, Lenalee casts a strained look around, running a hand shakily through her hair, before remembering herself; the frown returns and increases twofold. Fog. Fog everywhere. No buildings, no shadows, and nowhere for the source of the noises to hide. Just a heavy white cloak that seems to verge on suffocating at times.

"In-- fog," she says, haltingly, and it sounds as if she might yet come up on the point where that stops being nerve-wracking and becomes a ridiculous hassle instead. "The buildings are gone, I can't-- there's nothing to coordinate myself with!"

A beat before he's laughing, not out of any real humour at the absurdity of their situation, but because it's better than nothing. Well, not quite nothing. Here's one out of three missing people found, she sounds unhurt, and everyone else back at the bridge's fine. Take that, Libitina.

"Sorry, I suppose it is a silly question. How about we just keep talking and try to find each other?"

He seems to be taking his own advice, voice getting nearer as he speaks... But at a tangent. Still, it's nothing that can't be fixed with more verbal cues and some careful navigation.

"You can't be too far away, if I can hear you without you having to shout."

This feels crippling, somehow. Being so close to one another and yet still completely incapable of handling the problem without resorting to playing follow-the-sound. It's like scrabbling around in the dark. Lenalee doesn't like it. Yes, one of three missing people found, but four days late-- and part of her wonders if this is Libitina's way of proving just how easily she can tear down a group of so-called "organized soldiers". What good has their lifetime of training done to prepare them for this? If the girl wanted to hurt them... well. Lenalee at least is still of the mind that she could. Very easily.

She sets her lips in a grim line and strains her ears for which direction Allen's coming from. Moves a little more to the right.

"I've been looking for everyone for days! I lost my PDA--" In a quick change of tone, she goes from verging deep agitation to so very chagrined. Verbal whiplash.

...Lenalee lost her PDA. So that's why she seems to have fallen clean off the network. It's such a mundane reason compared to all the other theories Allen has had four whole days to fabricate, the only reaction he can muster at first is a half-dazed sort of, "Ahahaha..."

But it doesn't take him long to partake in some verbal whiplash of his own either, glossing right over that and straight into his usual warm inflections of it's alright, really.

"Don't worry about it, I'll help you look when the week's over."

A simple solution to a complicated situation, but who's to say it isn't enough.

"We're all staying together at the bridge, so you won't even have to use the network. It's been rather quiet, actually. You haven't missed much."

He's still picking his way through the fog as he chatters on, and she'll be able to tell by the increasing proximity of his voice that he's barely a few feet away now. Close enough for her to catch the slight strain of worry when he adds, "Almost everyone's been found, too. Matt and Riku are the only ones still missing."

It's all right, really. God, his tone of voice practically does bleed those words. After going so long with only her own muttering and the ghostly sounds to keep herself company, she's honestly a little relieved to hear it.

"But what if it gets crushed when the buildings come back? ...Can that even happen?"

This close, the hoarseness to Allen's voice is as apparent as the worry. Sad to say she doesn't particularly reciprocate his concern towards the others still MIA, however; for his sake, she murmurs a quiet, empathetic "oh...", but doesn't remark beyond that. They're less important to her than to him. Lenalee twists her lips into a frown and her head to the side as she catches a flicker of a shadow-- a-ha. She reaches out a slightly shaky hand.

Hey, Allen.

It is with a decisive sort of positivity when Allen answers, without further mention of the missing residents, "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

...Because if Libitina wants them to have continued access to the network, she'll make sure they have it, but Allen isn't about to explain that. He recalls hearing about someone who lost their PDA on purpose, only to have it delivered right back to their room.

"Libitina took away everything we didn't have on us at midnight, right? That's― A lot to crush. I'm sure the buildings will come back with everything in them, just as we left them. Where did you..."

Leave your PDA, he's about to say, but that's when her hand finds his shoulder, making him stutter around to face her with a soft sound of surprise. His eyes flick over her once, quickly checking for injuries, then crinkle slightly at the edges from a wound-down smile that speaks volumes in its understatement.

"Ah, that went faster than I thought it would."

She looks tired—exhausted, really—with enough dark lines beneath her eyes to give Miranda a run for her money. Of course, there are no injuries to speak of, because she can handle herself, contrary to what she feels everyone seems to think. Her eyes flick over him in an almost mirror-image, instinctive motion, but this time Allen doesn't get a smile in return; just a blunt, "Good," to cover up her half-grab for his sleeve.

Faster is better. Faster is what she needs. The anxiety that's been wringing in her chest the last few days finally fades a bit. "You sound hoarse."

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