saveourearth | A very merry Halloween! [Mingle]

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A very merry Halloween! [Mingle]

Date: 31st of October
Characters: Open!
Warning: Non-sexual desecration of formerly buried corpses

On the morning of Halloween, when people first step out of their houses, they will almost step into something.

A bucket of water. Every flat and every house in the Mossgate Boundary has a bucket placed in front of its entrance door (and sometimes, especially in Folkton and Moss Manor, the back door too), in which scary apples are floating. A little sign taped to the bucket reads: Have fun bobbing!.

But that's not the only thing that happened. The second thing that people will notice is that there are billions of spiders of all sizes crawling all over the town and villages, the military base, the Manor House... everywhere. And they certainly did their job - trees, lanterns, the higher attractions on the pier, and everything else that is high all over Mossgate Council is covered in thick layers of cobweb.

And lastly... those who pass by a church will notice something about the graveyards around them. Namely, that someone placed skeletons on top of most of the graves... Awfully real looking ones. Really, really awfully real looking ones. To some of them, the soil of the graveyard still clings, and the graves underneath them are in a state that betrays that they were dug up during the night. DNA tests would show that, indeed, the skeletons belong to the individuals buried in the graves.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A (Sadie)
Leaving Sadie to sleep a few minutes longer, knowing she needs the rest as she recovers from the imprint of her last Echo, Benjiro had slipped out from his bedroom early to head downstairs and to the kitchen. As he is fixing up a breakfast to take back upstairs, he glances out the window into the back garden at the trees. They appear to be coated by something that looks like cotton candy in the dark. He frowns at the sight, and leaving the breakfast ingredients to wait, heads for the front door to step outside in the dark and check the front of the house with his first thought being that his great aunts and himself had been pranked. He knows Folkton and Moss Manor village have a thing but come on, it’s too early… He won’t have time to take it down until after school, but he can at least assess how bad it happens to be as he flicks the switch to the porch lights and steps out.

Benjiro is met with a rude awakening when his foot plunks straight into the cold water bucket with apples rather than the step down at the door. His foot never touches the bottom as he yelps in surprise and hops right off the porch. Landing smoothly in a crouch, turned a full way around to face the porch, he stares at the odd bucket. One shoe, foot, and ankle now wet and cold, he frowns sourly at the bucket as he stands and walks back, but the expression transitions to one of uneasiness as he spots the appearance of the apples floating inside. Scooting the bucket away from the door with his foot, he then walks out into the front yard to inspect the trees there as they have a similar glossy covering. Now able to see better with the porch lights, his eyes widen as he is left dumbfounded by the work of the spiders.

B (OTA)
After school classes are over for the day, Benjiro heads on the train back to Moss Manor village. Rather than heading straight to the house of his great aunts, he heads for the local Anglican church – or more specifically, the graveyard. His aunts had initially informed him of the development in the morning, leaving him to follow it on social media, and he felt the need to see for himself when his aunts had been distraught by the desecration of the graves. Stripping off his costume on the train to roll up and tuck into his backpack, he switches out to wearing a hoodie to stay warm with the temperature starting to drop.

When he arrives at the church, he heads right for the graveyard to see what remains of the disturbed burials from the outside of the cordon of police tape.

After spending some time there, he’ll stroll around the village to further examine the spider webs and look for other signs of activity.

Edited 2018-10-26 13:41 (UTC)

As unnerved as he is by, well, everything about today - he managed to avoid the flat's own bucket of apples by sheer speed of reflex, and that was the least serious thing that had happened to him - he still makes effort to check out how far this goes. Is it just 'everywhere within the Boundary', is it in specific towns within it... Is there a copycat in London?

So he happens upon Ben in Moss Manor, dressed similarly warmly and starting to regret taking his bike out.

The poor vehicle may never be clean again, he feels, possibly irrationally. Despite his mood, he still makes an effort to wave.

Edited 2018-10-27 17:55 (UTC)

The police tape is keeping him from getting a good view of the graveyard's state, so Benjiro starts walking down the street to move towards another location where he might be able to get around to the graveyard. As he walks, he spots a familiar bike and its rider, and lifts a hand to return the wave with an uneasy smile. He slows for a moment, watching to see whether his friend is merely passing through or is intending to stop off and park.

Really, the patrol's probably a good enough reason to not go in, but this wasn't something Walter felt comfortable merely staying at home over anyhow.

He brakes, pulling off the road in Ben's direction, and disembarks swiftly.

"You all right, Ben? Surprises just keep happening today, it seems," he adds by way of explanation.

Sliding his hands into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie, he halts entirely when he realizes that Walter is slowing the bike. He walks a couple steps back to meet him, and gives a single nod with a wry answer, "Yeah, it's been something else. How are you holding up?"

For a second after ensuring that Walter is alright, Benjiro considers the small huddled crowd at the church entrance before he lowers his voice to share his intention with Walter, "I heard about the graveyards this morning. I want to examine a grave closely to see what I can make of it. It really upset my great aunts." There's an edge to the last of what he says, his tone uncharacteristically nettled.

Something messed with his family, and that's all it takes to rile him.

Walter makes an equivocating gesture after disembarking.

"It's not quite at 'regretting getting out of bed' levels, but this day has done nothing but raise questions and concerns from me."

Grimly, he nods.

"Better not tell them that you are," he warns, "but I confess I want a look, too."

He shifts his bag for emphasis.

As the aurora had, indeed the strange happenings spur a flurry of questions.

That shift of the bag makes it clear for the teenager and he nods once, thankful for the presence of his friend for such a ghastly task. Benjiro replies just as quietly, "Doubt they'd let anyone, but certainly not a random teenager." Then with a nod of his head off down the street he explains, "If we go down to the end of the street and over, we should be able to cut through some of the trees out near the back of the graveyard to slip in without anyone taking notice."

Should Walter be agreeable to the idea, he'll head off down the street with him.

"Assuming no one else has thought of that already."

Never underestimate the draw of snooping, Ben.

Still, he doesn't add any further protest, and puts extra effort into not running so as to not draw any attention to them.

“That is possible, but after so many hours dealing with this and with some time left before dusk, they may not be as vigilant.”

Benjiro makes a point to keep his gaze averted away from the church and surrounding land as he walks with Walter at a casual pace. Waiting to come to the corner of the street, he turns and begins to count steps to keep track of relative distance beyond the front door of the church while staying on the pavement. Only once he feels they have covered enough distance will he duck into an alleyway. Slowing to pause at the end of the alleyway, he looks around carefully among the growing shadows of the dwindling daylight. He lingers for quite a pause, and satisfied he sees no signs of anyone on watch nearby or the movement of a patrol, he heads through the trees and further to the nearest grave.

Approaching from behind the headstone, he veers wide to come up beside the disturbed grave adorned by the slumped skeleton still held together by sinew. His stomach clenches as he beholds the clean skeletal remains with the tattered soldier’s hat of an older time and what looks to be a deteriorated coat. The sight of it induces dizziness, but not out of a sense of revulsion. Sinking down to one knee as he turns hollow and his heart pounds, Benjiro puts a hand to his head only to inhale sharply with the flash of a new memory.

‘We gotta find my brother! He’s gotta be in here!’

‘Angel, no!’ a familiar male voice shouts as the girl pushes against a golden door. A red light floods the room with water over their ankles and growths of sickly vegetation curtaining from above and at the edge of the water. A deep, echoing voice speaks over itself in beckoning as numerous skeletons strewn about the chamber move and rise. The orbital sockets of the skeletons glow with the same red light, and close in around them. A skeleton with a sword attacks him, and he defends with his bo staff as they try to grasp the situation in which they have found themselves.

The fight is interrupted by an old man with a lantern at the far end of the chamber at the bottom of the spiral staircase that allowed them to enter. He calls to them, ‘You fools! You cannot kill the dead! Run!! You must follow me!’ Without hesitation they dodge the skeletons and flee together for safety from the relentless onset.

Snapping out of the memory, he looks wide eyed at the skeleton and rears backwards from it with a cry strangled in his throat only by the imperative that they have to be quiet. A full two meters of distance gained in a second, the impression of fright fades and he halts as he regains focus in the present.

Breathless, he speaks, “….reanimated skeletons. That’s….that’s different.”

Edited 2018-10-29 21:21 (UTC)

Walter's approach into the alleyway is slightly more casual than Ben's - though by that point it's clear no one has noticed them anyway, much to Walter's relief.

Ben's reaction drives Walter to kneel down on the ground as well, but not out of an Echo; even though he can't see at first what Ben's expression is, it's clear something is up, and he puts a hand on Benjiro's shoulder in an attempt to ground him...

And then Ben starts, making Walter snap that hand back in a hurry - and, just as quickly, run with him.

"I'll say," he replies, once the meaning of what his friend is saying sinks in.

"Another memory?"

That distant impression of contact at his shoulder helped him to keep silent, and he blinks his wide eyes as he looks to Walter next to him away from the grave. He takes in a slow, deeper breath as he nods in confirmation, “Yeah... From the other one. Apparently he and his brothers got attacked by some skeletons at a door. Red light... They seemed mindless but they were not stopping even being broken into pieces.”

Gaze turning out to scan the graves around them, he takes what comfort he can that these are not armed and currently immobile.

“Sorry, let’s get back to it,” he offers in apology for the alarm. Bringing his backpack around, he fishes out a pair of disposable gloves to pull onto his hands and rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie.

Edited 2018-10-31 20:10 (UTC)

"Brothers?"

That knowledge must have come with the memory, then.

Walter shudders.

"So, skeleton zombies?"

He neglected to bring gloves, unfortunately, which leaves him standing guard.

"Need a hand?"

Oooh, that might be an unfortunate pun.

More reinforced by the memory than illumiating of the relationship, as it came with the undercurrent of worry for family and had been preceded by a flicker.

Backpack secured on his shoulders once more after preparing his hands and arms to make contact with the disturbed grave, he mulls over the label before shaking his head slowly, “Not quite, more like puppets. There was this voice with the light calling for...well, possibly for them. They started moving when it shone from above a golden door underground.”

There is an unfortunate edge to the phrase as Benjiro remembers literally disarming one of the skeletons, but it is met with nothing more that a pop of a brow. The teenager looks at the skeleton with hesitation, then replies, “Verbal suggestions will suffice.” Not allowing himself to delay further, he approaches to kneel down and look more closely without yet touching any part of the scene.

Edited 2018-11-02 01:07 (UTC)

The world Ben is getting his Echoes from appears more bizarre each time they talk about it...

"Probably had something done to them beforehand, if the affected skeletons were specific to a room."

Otherwise it could have been as wide an epidemic as they felt was needed.

Kneeling down again cautiously (even though he's short, he's not taking the risk of someone spotting his head above the stones), he nods.

Despite sharing that impression regarding the world of his gifted memories, he can take comfort in knowing Sadie has similar oddities contrasting with science.

“Seemed like they were. All I saw otherwise was a staircase out, and the room itself seemed centuries old. Come to think of it, the skeletons appeared to be dressed from different time periods…”

After Walter joins him, he tentatively reaches to the skeleton and begins to assess its state. Applying minimal pressure with contact, he lifts a finger of the hand tentatively to see how well it sustains the connections of the delicate joints with movement. He does not expect it to fall apart, yet he’s not about to jostle it outright. When it remains intact, he lifts the whole hand and the forearm with it, supporting under the wrist. Two fingers pinching the distal end of the radius, he applies a slow and steady increase of pressure to listen for a crackle that would indicate weakening with decay. This set of bones does not smell of rotting marrow, but the wind is bringing that noxious scent to them from other graves.

Edited 2018-11-02 15:16 (UTC)

"Whoever decided all of that was a good idea was utterly bonkers."

Given their current situation in Mossgate, however, the two of them are only somewhat better.

Walter holds his breath in anxious anticipation as Ben starts putting pressure on the bone.

"Checking for artificial aging, or the real deal?" he asks, gaze flickering up to the gravestone.

"They went there out of necessity. A friend had lost her brother behind the door and when she tried to follow, the light appeared," he recounts with his brow furrowing slightly at the essence of worry in the memory. He hopes it turned out okay.

"Essentially," he confirms for Walter, and it takes only seconds more before he hears the first crackle. Pressure released, he examines the bone under where he had his fingers. A slight, hairline fracture now present, Benjiro feels more certain, "Brittle. That didn't take much pressure at all."

Laying the hand down, he moves on to scanning the uncovered legs of the skeleton, and gingerly turns them at the hip to look more completely around each of the larger bones. Nothing apparent about the legs, he then looks to the skull, peering in through open sockets and gaps in the bone.

"Walter, can you get my flashlight out? Front pocket."

"Not that - why would someone keep that many skeletons in one place, only to animate them to attack people?"

He lets out a huff of breath.

"I can only hope that the friend's brother was saved from that fate," he adds softly, inadvertently voicing Ben's thought.

He gingerly moves forward at the instruction, lifting it out deftly to hand it over to Benjiro.

"Better not be a spider in there..."

Since there's nothing to keep them out either.

As Ben looks the skeleton's skull in the eyesockets, he has, for an intense moment, the feeling of being looked at. A soft thump like form a hesitant heartbeat seems to resounding from the skeleton, only audible to Ben, and there is a feeling of emptiness, but this time it is a very defined emptiness - like someone has taken everything but his bones away from him.

And then it is gone, and there is no dizziness, but Ben has a fresh new plot echo.

"It didn't sound human, but either way...probably because it could," he reasons. There are a number of possible explanations for the attacks, not limited to simply trying to keep that door closed. Without another memory of the situation, he might not ever discern it, and yet he hesitates at the possibility of learning more about something or someone that can animate the dead. At least to the matter of the brother, he can agree, "Me too..."

Staring into the orbits of the skull with focus placed to one of the optic canals, Benjiro feels Walter pulling on the zipper of his bag to retrieve the flashlight with the comment about a spider. He smiles wryly as he starts to reply, "At this point, I wouldn't...be..." only to trail off as he gets the feeling of something staring back. The sound of the heartbeat makes him look down at the chest of the skeleton. Then nothing.

The focus of his eyes vanishes as his breath passes from his lungs without return. His expression slackens and his hands drop to the ground by his hips as that nothingness swallows his thought, his mind, his soul, his body and leaves only the vaguest notion of a remnant in bones no different than simply another skeleton resting in the graveyard. Lifeless.

Seconds tick by in this state before he inhales with a struggling gasp born of everything rushing back with the addition of a hefty memory covering hours of time and his muscles cramping from head to toe. Grunting in the pain of his muscles pulling every direction simultaneously, he curls forward in a flexion synergy reflexively with his hands clawing into the grass and dirt. Staccato words taut and breathless, he struggles to speak with lungs starting to burn, "..noh...ga...nn..!"

Edited 2018-11-10 17:42 (UTC)

"Ben?"

There's very little warning before the teen goes silent, and Walter's own heart definitely skips a beat in response.

"Ben!"

The flashlight is no longer important - Walter presses below Benjiro's shoulder blades, next shifting to start moving Ben away from the grave.

Asking him to say what's wrong might be a little much right now.

The effort to drag Benjiro away from the skeleton and the grave is made easier by the lock of his muscles initially. Then all at once his muscles release to the level of wet noodles, and the teenager sprawls in the direction of the pull. Laying out on his side in the grass, he shivers as he relies on his diaphragm to gasp for air in an effort to recover the oxygen debt left behind.

As his breathing starts to slow, he rests limp the ground as he makes another effort to speak with far more success, "...t-that one h...hurt."

"I'll say."

It had hurt to watch, frankly, and Walter's attention is divided between their immediate area and Ben's well-being; this is not somewhere they want to forget anything.

Relying on previously-used tactics, he rubs Ben's back softly yet firmly, pressing circles.

"Hospital-worthy hurt, or just hurt?"

There are degrees to this sort of thing.

Backpack still in place, gloves remaining on his hands, and the flashlight having never been accepted, there should not be anything else from the teen to keep track of in terms of collecting items to avoid leaving evidence.

His muscles quiver subtly, the flickers of contractions palpable on contact with his skin or through his shirt under his hoodie. The pressure draws out stronger twitches as Walter rubs his back under or around the backpack, but Benjiro still finds comfort from the motion as he allows his eyes to close momentarily.

“No, no need. R-really sore...that’s all,” he quickly denies at the mention of a hospital, his jaw sore as the rest of him simply speaking. They have Mary Ann available if it were an emergency, but this is not one. His greater concern lies in avoiding detection, “...i-is anyone nearby?”

"Rest, then," Walter asserts.

"As long as it's not here, anyway," he adds, resuming his check of the area - apart from a gust of wind, there's no noise to immediately draw his attention.

"... No, but if we're relying on luck, I wouldn't expect it to last much longer. If I carry you, will it hurt more?"

That flashlight's getting put back, either way; the light would very easily draw attention.

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B

At the church

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*he rests limp on the ground

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