victory_road | (no subject)

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Who: Everyone who wandered into the nightmare forest!

Where: Inside the nightmare forest!

When: October 22nd-29th

Summary: The culmination of weeks of worsening bad dreams comes when all that accumulated power is enough for the Pokemon to sprout an entire forest meant to trap people and harvest even more power. Now people from all over are lost in the woods...with very little distinction between what's real and what's not.

Log:

Whether by being drawn in or by simple curiosity (or poor decision making skills), people and their Pokemon have wandered in amongst the trees that have sprouted overnight. Only to find that once inside? There doesn't seem to be any way back out. No sunlight can pierce through the dense foliage overhead, but there is an eerie sort of green-tinted light with no source that gives people enough light to see by. The thickness of the woods varies--in some points it’s practically easy to move forward, and in others the trees are so close together that your character might have to squeeze between them. Phantump flit through the air and Drowzee can be seen occasionally running along the ground.

And in the background, a Trevenant and a Hypno watch. And wait.

Wait for these lost souls to finally drift off into sleep.

Full event info and questions can be found here!

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[Ford has hit the point of wandering in these woods where he can't comfortably be certain that he's awake. Sure, he remembers waking up, but that means very little when there have been extended periods of waking up over and over again into new and horrible dreamscapes. That these woods look very much likes the woods he first wandered into in Mount Moon only means that his brain can conjure up that image reliably.

When he stumbles upon a road in the middle of the woods that starts suddenly and winds away through the trees, he starts to suspect that maybe he's still asleep. But what else is there to do but follow the road?

His Shiinotic shuffles along next to him. At first he thought her presence meant he couldn't be dreaming, but the realm of dreams and sleep are a Shiinotic's wheelhouse. Of course if any of his Pokémon could join him here it would be her. One of her overly-long arms grips the hem of his coat, less because she's afraid and more simply to remind him that she doesn't walk nearly so brisk as he does, especially when he's antsy.]

_{[What else is there to do? At least a road might possibly MAYBE lead to some kind of man-made thing, as opposed to deeper into the woods.]

[But oh wait, that's reality logic.]

[That doesn't apply here.]

[The path winds and twists through the trees, and as Ford walks, a haze of fog-- thin at first, but steadily growing thicker-- starts to hang in the air.]

[For the longest time, there's just no sound except for the crunch of Ford's big old explorer boots and the light shifting of his Shiinotic's ruffles across the leaf-laden ground.]

[But then-- a rustle and a snap, somewhere off to the right. It's hard to tell whether it's close or far, somehow sound seems to travel strangely in here. But it was definitely a thing, and it didn't come from either of them.]}

[Ford immediately reaches for a gun that he remembers too late isn't there, then reaches for another gun that isn't there, and gets halfway through reaching for a knife he should already know also isn't there before he gives up. The one problem with living in this particular universe is weaponry just isn't as acceptable to have stashed all over your person.

Anyway it was just the snap of a twig. It doesn't matter that this whole area and particularly the oppressive fog are putting him on-edge. If that had been the sound of a tree snapping in half then he'd have to be really worried, right?]

...Come on, Angel.

[If his ears are now even more trained for any unusual sound, well, that's just being reasonably cautious.]

_{[Poor Ford. It's okay, you're not alone in having faced this problem in transitioning to life in the Pokemon world. It's rough, buddy.]

[But hey, just a snapped twig somewhere, right? No big.]

[Silence reigns once more for a few minutes.]

[And then there's another rustle.]

[Louder.]

[It almost sounds like something running quickly for just a few steps and then stopping.]

[Silence again.]

[Then another single snap, from a completely different direction.]}

[Man, he really is not about this life. Either this means whatever is making those noises is incredibly fast, or there's more than one of... whatever it is. And while he would like to think it's probably just squirrels, or maybe Sentrets (who knows what universe this dream is taking cues from), it's in his nature to assume it's something worse. He didn't survive thirty years in a multiverse where he was a criminal in half the worlds he stumbled into by not being constantly on-guard.

He stops, plants his feet, and turns to squint into the trees off the side of the road at the point the last snap came from (he thinks? It's hard to tell direction).]

_{[Well of course, now that he's LOOKING, the forest is dead silent again.]

[Completely, perfectly still. Almost mockingly (although that could be the paranoia). What are you, dude, nuts? Do you SEE any wild animals running around? Ain't nobody here but us trees. Get it together, Ford.]

[Another snap rings out right behind him.]}

[HEY WOAH FUCK THAT

He whirls (Destroying Angel can't keep hold of his coat; it's torn out of her root-like fingers). If the noise came from right behind him then there's something there he can see, something he can analyze, something he can start figuring out how to fight. Right? Right?]

_{[PSYCH there's nothing there. Not even a squirrel Sentret.]

[He and Destroying Angel continue to be, seemingly, all alone.]

[But a moment later, another prolonged skitter sounds off somewhere to the left, and, more worryingly, what sounds like an audible exhale of breath whispers out from the right.]

[But still nothing.]

[Nothing visible, anyway.]}

[This is... upsetting. It reminds him of nothing so much as the time after he sent Fiddleford away and it was just him alone in his secluded cabin in the woods, slowly going insane and unsure of what was real and what was just his mind playing tricks on him. He'd heard whispers then too, and sounds coming from nothing at all. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees a flash of something yellow -- but maybe it was just him being jumpy. If there's nothing for him to see except his own Pokémon, then there's nothing to have those horrible glowing gold eyes, and she looks perfectly normal still.

For now.]

We may have to run. If you can't keep up, I'll carry you.

[His Pokéballs are on the belt he wears around his chest, which used to hold a gun until he started hanging out with children regularly, and which is now missing entirely because apparently in this dream he is not allowed to have anything to defend himself with. He could grab a stick from the woods, but going into the woods seems like the opposite of a good idea right now. At least on the road there's open space on all sides of him.]

_{[It's the LITERAL WORST and honestly these woods aren't so different than the ones the Mystery Shack was nestled in-- they're big and dense and old and probably hide beings that are just as big and old.]

[The rustling continues-- it feels like it's coming from all around them now.]

[There is something considerably impending-sounding about it now, even though there still seems to be nothing visibly moving in the woods around them.]

[All the same... running doesn't sound like a terrible idea.]

[A louder snap rings out, and a low, moaning growl buzzes in the air.]}

[Yeah, okay. Stanford Pines knows when it's time to cut and run. It's in his nature to hurtle headlong into danger but even he has a tipping point where he knows better. This? Something he can't see, can't even pinpoint, can't possibly hope to fight until it reveals itself? This is something he should be running from.

He makes it about twenty feet down the road before he has to skid to a stop, turn around, and go back for Destroying Angel, who's shuffling along doggedly as best she can. Why are Shiinotic so slow? Why do they have such little feet?]

Come on.

[He barely even looks at her as he scoops her up into his arms, carrying her much like a big glowing alien baby (her long, noodly arms wrap around his shoulders once and then halfway around again). He's more concerned with scanning the surrounding area, head tipping from left to right like he's checking for oncoming cars or maybe just saying no very vehemently.]

_{[Trees, trees, and more trees. That's all his rapid no-ing reveals as he runs-- just a blur of dark forest.]

[But the sounds?]

[Oh, the second he starts running, the entire wood erupts in snaps and crackling, as though something is coming after him-- no, as though lots of somethings are coming after him and his Pokemon both.]

[Like being chased by a pack of wolves, except the wolves are invisible and that growling sure doesn't sound like wolves, it sounds like freaking demons.]

[Run, run, run, as fast as you can!]}

[It says a lot about Stanford Pines and the kind of things he is used to that his first thought is gnomes. Have you ever heard a gnome growl? Unpleasant, and the things like to swarm in the hundreds, and they bite hard. This is a little much even for gnomes, though, and it's the possibility that it could be something much worse that keeps him running.

But this is a dream, and dreams never work how you want, especially when you desperately need them to. He can run as fast as he likes but he feels like he's making frustratingly little progress, like the road is elongating in front of him and his feet are sliding over the pavement in a way that just plain doesn't make sense considering the length of his stride. It doesn't help that the environment is so uniform, because even when he does make progress it certainly doesn't feel as though he's moved. Not to mention it feels as though the fog is getting worse, which just makes judging distance that much harder. It's like struggling through pea soup. He almost considers asking Destroying Angel to use Flash to cut through some of the fog, but that might just draw even more attention. Best to not risk it.

At least he can be privately glad of one thing, and it's that his difficulty moving is due only to standard dream issues and not his usual blue shackles or gold petrification.]

_{[GNOMES ARE THE FUCKING WORST and even the denizens of the Otherworld would probably agree on that. But fortunately or unfortunately, there aren't any gnomes here.]

[The fog almost seems to rush in around him-- it IS getting worse. It happens quickly-- within a few paces, he suddenly won't be able to even see his feet under him.]

[Which is, uh, really bad.]

[Because, almost as though all that progress he wasn't making catches up with him at once, the road very abruptly and with no warning at all stops being a thing. Cutting off in a jagged line of crumbled asphalt and jutting roots, beyond is just a wall of fog and a DROP.]}

[Mm. Mmmm that's no bueno. Luckily Ford is able to stop himself, though carrying his Pokémon in his arms as he is he's very top-heavy so it's a near thing. Okay. Okay. No going forward. No going back. Can't go up, because Angel can't fly and he's not about to climb a tree and get himself even more trapped.

The most worrying part of this is that it's new. Sudden drops and mysterious voids don't really feature in his nightmares, unless you count the endless void of space. This is very distinctly not that. If it was a familiar nightmare he could at least recognize and deal with it. He doesn't like feeling so out of his element, and even his usual mantra of focus on your intellect control your fear isn't working as well as it should be.

Well. Nothing else for it but to turn around. Which puts his back to the void, which he doesn't like. There's no good option here honestly.]

We might have to fight our way out, Angel.

[Out to where? One step at a time. Destroying Angel slips from his arms and lands on the ground with a dull sound, ponderously-large cap wobbling as she straightens up. She's still smiling. She never stops smiling. In some small ways, she's very helpful.]

Shii.

_{[That's super no bueno.]

[Especially because it even, as the fog parts just slightly to reveal, came to a little point-- there's nowhere to go, right or left. Ford and Destroying Angel are trapped on a ledge, with whatever it was chasing them presumably cutting off their only exit.]

[And, as though sensing the narrative climax is approaching, it's now that they finally appear-- four-legged beasts, shadowy and indistinct but with heads that seem to be in a perpetual buzz of motion-- come knuckling out of the trees.]

[There's so many of them.]

[And as they draw closer, the source of that buzz of motion is clear-- their heads are completely enveloped in writhing masses of worms.]}

[Oh boy. Stanford Pines has seen a lot of horrifying and upsetting things in his many, many years on this and a ton of other Earths, but this has rocketed up the list to at least the top ten. He almost takes an instinctive step back before he remembers the void behind him. Shit, right. He seriously considers the merits of jumping for solid couple of seconds before deciding no, no, better to take on the unimaginable horror he can see.

He very much wishes it had been gnomes. Gnomes he knows how to deal with. No guns, no knives, close combat is a bad idea because there's far too many of them and he is very sure if he gets close enough even decades of training won't make a dent in how much of an advantage they have. Time. He needs time to pull a strategy out of nothing. Now's the time for some light.]

Use Flash! See if you can stun them.

[Destroying Angel's cap begins to glow, soft a first and then blinding all at once like a switch was flipped. This will either stun them, make them recoil... or enrage them. He figures it's a good fifty fifty chance. That's not bad odds as odds he's faced go.]

_{[The light cuts through the fog like a beacon, illuminating the creatures in stark relief. If they looked grotesque in obscurity, it's nothing compared to how they look fully visible-- almost apelike, but like no real animal on Earth. Their form looks more like someone stretched a single slab of partially-cooked steak into the approximate shape of an animal before bringing it to life and granting it motion than like anything with an actual internal structure.]

[They draw back with a series of guttural, barklike grunts as the light hits them, even though they have no visible eyes.]

[THEY FUCKING HATE IT!]}

[More importantly, they hate it in the way that makes them want to back away from it rather than the way that makes them want to tear it to pieces. That's fortuitous. He'll take it.]

... Move forward. See if you can push them back.

[If they can just cut a path through...? Not that he wants to have to walk through that horde but it's not like they have much of a choice. Destroying Angel, bless her heart, shuffles forward. It's almost like she trusts her trainer to have a solid plan, which is very sweet and generous of her.]

_{[The beasts do cringe away, with terrible groans that are somehow bone-rattling, even as they're backing up instead of attacking. They're moving back towards the trees as though seeking shelter, reconsidering their choice of prey.]

[It is honestly a simultaneously hilarious and awe-inspiring sight-- this whimsical little mushroom right out of an Arthur Rackham illustration toddling forward and driving back an army of infested monstrosities with nothing but light.]

[Truly amazing.]

[Oh, but what was that you said about them not hating light enough to want to tear it to pieces? They don't, it's true-- but the thing about bright light is that it is awfully attention-grabbing.]

[And the worm-headed things are far from the only monsters lurking in this pocket of nightmares.]

[There is a deafening roar as something that can only be described as a subway-train-sized tube of flesh comes crashing down from the dark, foggy sky, and the worm-headed creatures scatter with a cacophony of panicked hoots and gibbering. It slams into the earth with an open maw full of exposed tendons and massive, eerily-human teeth-- it was aiming for Destroying Angel, but fortunately the blinding light, while an enormous target, also throws it off, and the mushroom baby is spared a gruesome fate.]

[... LESS FORTUNATELY, the impact sends a crackling ripple through the already-damaged ledge, and in a cascade of earth and shattered asphalt, it goes straight out from under them.]}

Edited 2017-11-26 08:30 (UTC)

[WELL THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

Solve one problem by making another one, huh? That's very Ford. Falling into the void with a horrible monstrosity-- also very Ford. He has the presence of mind to run forward and grab onto Destroying Angel (who did really very good all things considered) but that's about all he has time for.

Looks like they get to see where that fireaxe went, huh?]

_{[YEP, IT REALLY DID, AND YEP, IT REALLY IS.]

[But there are a few small silver linings. One is that the drop is not nearly as bottomless as it looked from up above. In fact, the cascade of earth, roots, and unfortunate interdimensional travelers plummet downwards, they end up in a landslide heap about thirty feet down, where apparently there was a cliffside road hiding underneath the blanket of fog.]

[Aside from bumps and bruises, Ford and his Shiinotic will be, astoundingly, pretty okay!]

[The monster far above screeches and whips around, creating small tornados of mist.]

[But underneath the beast's loud temper tantrum (and, in fact, underneath Ford and Destroying Angel themselves!) there's another noise. Like someone muffledly trying to shout.]}

[Thank goodness grandpa didn't break his hip in the fall. As falls go this is actually one of the nicer ones he's had to endure in recent memory, even with the rubble and detritus. He sits up, carefully helps Destroying Angel right herself and her heavy cap, and is halfway through brushing dirt from his fluffy hair when he hears the voice.

It... sounds human? He thinks? But that doesn't mean a whole lot in a situation like this. If anything it means it could be worse. There could be a wendigo down there. Either that or they brought a road down on some poor late-night mountain pedestrian. Or some poor late-night mountain wendigo that wasn't planning on hurting anyone and just wanted to go for a nice walk.

That's two out of three scenarios that are at least workable, so engaging is a go. He's not going to say hello or is someone down there because now is honestly not the time for pleasantries. Gotta cut right to the chase here.]

Are you hurt?

Edited (forgot halfway through what format i was writing in lmao) 2017-12-05 04:29 (UTC)

_{[More muffled sounds.]

[And then, narrowly missing Ford's bony old man buttcheek, a hand erupts from the mountain of rubbish, sending dirt clods rolling downwards.]

[Fortunately? The hand is definitely human.]

[Less fortunately, it's holding a knife and just sort of stabbing blindly at the air.]}

[fucking YIKES]

Hey! Stop that!

[He scoots awkwardly sideways and away from the flailing knife. There's going to be dust smears on his black pants but you know what whatever that's kind of par the course for his life.]

It's going to be a lot more difficult to get you out of there if you stab me.

[WILDCARD] did you think i forgot about monster punching because oh buddy

my dream just came true

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i'm so sorry ford

welcome to hell welcome to hell [murphy screams in the distance]

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ah that good good Symbolism

dank metaphors

2dank5me

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slowly wiggles my way through backtags

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