[Open] The Mark of the Herald

[thewatchers]

Mark of the Herald Part I
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Despite certain disruptive events and ominous visions in the preceding month, August is seemingly still free of any problems.

That’s quick to change, however. Starting from the third of the month, strange, circular marks begin to appear on human students around the school - and, indeed, humans around the world. Those affected begin to feel incurably drowsy, something that no magical or mundane solution can seem to cure or relieve; eventually, they’ll fall asleep entirely, whether they want to or not, and enter a state of magical stasis. Not even nonhumans are immune, though whether they’re marked seems to be much more erratic.

Those who remain awake or are otherwise spared by the mark are free to do as they wish - the Academy won’t ask them to do more than keep themselves safe. But where each marked person falls in slumber, a portal will form; a strange tear in reality, offering glimpses of a surreal, nightmarish plane that differs vastly from individual to individual. One thing is certain; the cause of a victim’s seemingly endless sleep and these portals are linked somehow, and the only way to find out exactly how is to go through...and the only ones capable of doing so are those who are still awake.

This log can be used as a catch-all for event-related threads. The information for this event is here.

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[emergensirations]

[Maddy notes that aura of power. She straightens her back and lifts her chin as if instinctively trying to show she won't be cowed. But it's not her that Valvatorez is seeking to intimidate.

Her mouth twitches, bitterly amused, knowing, as he talks of what matters and preservation. She opens her mouth to speak. He's already gone.

The world blurs around Valvatorez. The speed at which he moves puts him far from the growls, but in exchange, he sees more and more face flying by. A running child wearing embroidered winter furs, a girl and boy whispering to each other with no other similarity between them, a sad-eyed woman and another in victorian wear whose mouth is pinched in a scowl. More face are between in fashions from all over in the past hundred years or so. There's one figure, a man's, tall and skinny, whose form seems to flicker in and out. He's almost familiar, but his form is too indistinct to parse and soon he's gone too.

Then are the mirrors splattered in red. Some have spider cracks going through them. It's as though something inside them is trying to get free.

Down one long stretch of hall is a figure he saw before, a reflection of "himself", soft smile and pink hair, her blue eyes fixed. She waits there at the end.]