The Watchers of Night ([personal profile] thewatchers) wrote in [community profile] daybreakacademy2020-08-03 03:47 pm

[Open] The Mark of the Herald


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.
thaumatrope: (.31)

cw eye injury/gore/suicidal idealization

[personal profile] thaumatrope 2020-08-19 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
Nobody in the mirror shards has an answer for Sira. They don't seem to be paying the daemon much attention.

But the longer that Sira is with these mirror shards, talking to them or otherwise, they'll feel something creep up on them. It might not be a feeling that Sira is unfamiliar with, the urge to bend and meld themself to others. But the feeling builds more and more, piling onto their soul and their mind. This memory plays behind their--

--Eyes everywhere. Someone is always looking at you and you know what's expected of you. It's what you were made for and you will make others happy even if it means your fingernails are pulled off because someone else wanted them, even if it felt like your skin would tear itself off your body when someone touched you. There's nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong with you.

You were asleep. There was an accident. They wouldn't lie to you. You were loved so they wouldn't lie to you.

But your dreams are cold and there's something weighing on you. Something that's loud, bitter and ugly. An urge to scream, to lash out. Something in the darkness.

Blood bubbles past your lips when you look. Your eyes itch and you stick your fingers in your sockets to find nothing. You claw out the remaining bits of flesh and veins. There's a burn in your throat and you tear it out, but it doesn't stop the screaming. The feeling of your hands on someone else's throat, choking the life out of him.

A steady stream of crushing self-loathing. A powerful hatred for the world, for the people within it. I hate you. I hate you all. I want you all dead. I want to die. I-

But what started this all you wonder, as you lie in a bloody heap while "you" have to live a life you do not want. The answer is easy: you looked in the mirror.

And you wanted to be yourself for the first time in your life.


When the vision ends, the mirror shards are gone. Even the ones so small that Sira couldn't pick up out of the dryer have vanished.

But there's not a lot of time to muse on what they saw. There's a loud bang on the door that Sira came out of. It seems like someone's trying to kick the door down.
emergensirations: (Upset)

[personal profile] emergensirations 2020-08-19 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
The vision ends and they feel themself quake from head to toe in a way they never have. They taste blood. They taste it like they've swallowed a fountain of it. Their body burns like it's been flayed, though that's impossible. If the glass had still been in their hands, they would have closed their fingers around it all and held it to their chest, pain or no.

They know pain. No matter how they skirted from it, they knew pain. They didn't know that desire. They've never wanted to be themself. They've never wanted to be this.

So they don't know why they get up. They don't know why they scramble for that far door, the one to get away from whatever's attacking. They could stay behind. It could make them happy. They could make their friend happy. They don't.

They fling that far wooden door open, but pause to look back.
thaumatrope: (.27)

[personal profile] thaumatrope 2020-08-22 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
[What breaks down the door Sira flees from is darkness, jet-black and moving like sludge. It's a darkness Sira has seen before when they shared space with Adriel.

It's that ugly, bitter feeling inside of the angel that wanted the daemon dead. And they still want Sira dead so getting caught is not going to end well for them.

But...it's not quite the darkness that's the problem when Sira runs away. If they don't look they'll find out the hard way that there's nothing beyond the wooden door they've opened. Just darkness, although harmless.

The drop's pretty far but at least it's not so high that it'll kill Sira on impact. But if they do look and don't fall in, they'll have to figure out just how to dodge the darkness advancing on them.

Because it sure doesn't look like it'll leave them alone any time soon.]
emergensirations: (Upset)

[personal profile] emergensirations 2020-08-22 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
[Darkness, darkness. Consuming and promising. Furious and calm. The sight of Adriel's darkness feels like something twisted up in their guts. And now they understand it like they didn't before.

They pause in the frame of that door, before the pit to seeming oblivion.]


You're my dear friend. I'm going to help you. [They speak the promise to the writhing dark.] I'm going to make this better. I'll make them pay. And you won't suffer anymore. So you can't kill me until then. You have to wait, Adriel.

[They jump into the dark beyond the door.]
thaumatrope: (.18)

[personal profile] thaumatrope 2020-08-28 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
[Out of the darkness chasing Sira an arm reaches out, covered in horrible wounds. Although if they're reaching out asking for help or to catch Sira...

The drop is long but ultimately not one that will kill Sira. It will sting quick a bit if they're not careful though. The floor's pretty hard.

But the new place Sira will find themself in is...dark. Unsurprisingly. Looks like Sira might have to start navigating without sight for a little while.

At least it doesn't sound like there's anything down here?]
emergensirations: (Discomfort)

[personal profile] emergensirations 2020-08-28 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
[They reach back, but it's too late, they've already jumped and they fall. The figure is gone from sight. And then, soon, everything is.

They land hard. They hit their feet, then their knees and hiss with the pain of it. It takes some stumbling to rise back up again and they blink within the abyss. It seems not even the glow of their eyes is illuminating much down here.

They walk. They listen for an echo in their steps. Their hands hover slightly out, to see if they can't feel anything in the dark. They've never been blind before. Not in any of their hosts. It's disconcerting.]
thaumatrope: (.22)

[personal profile] thaumatrope 2020-08-31 10:02 am (UTC)(link)
[For a long, long time there's nothing to see or touch. Sira can reach down and touch the normal floor if they want, of course, but that's about it. The only sound for an equal amount of time is the sound of their own footsteps.

And then there's finally noise. Wretched sobbing and the sound of something crashing into something else, glass breaking over and over.

It sounds pretty close so Sira can go see what it is. Or they could walk away. Somewhere in this darkness has to be an exit.]
emergensirations: (Teeth)

[personal profile] emergensirations 2020-08-31 10:08 am (UTC)(link)
[They left that writhing darkness behind. It pained them, but they did it. Now, they hear cries. Destruction.

They feel out for an exit, a way out of any kind, but whether they find it or not, they have to look. They have to. A cry in the dark is as much a thing to summon them as their sigil. They have always been a last resort of the desperate. This sounds like desperation.]