PLAYER PLOT: fear is the mind-killer

[fullmoon]

CHARACTERS: You and all your least favorite things.
LOCATION: Shipwide.
WARNINGS: Violence, gore, monsters, psych trauma. (Please warn for any potential triggers—e.g. medical horror, eye stuff, recollection of past sexual trauma—in your subject lines.)
SUMMARY: Boggarts. See the plot post for a full timeline if you want to forward-date; otherwise, watch this space for updates.
NOTES: Whatever happens, however this ends, remember that it's Draco Malfoy's fault.

JAN 22

If you've been paying attention, you should already be on edge. Ward and Resnik have returned without many answers. There's the dead pirate again. The Tranquility is being pursued. People are talking about violent confrontation like it's inevitable, any cycle now. Any day. And now Morgoth is back, somewhere in the corridors.

If you keep an eye out, you won't find him. But you might find something else.

JAN 23

Never mind about Morgoth.

JAN 24

Despite very well-intended claims to the contrary (see above), the mounting evidence suggests that boggarts can be killed. Also, there's probably more than one. Sorry about that.

Comments

[blackmagus]

[She can only agree. Until things calm down, she's sticking mostly to her room. ...again. What a terrible case of deja vu.]

And you. It is only a scratch, right?

[She worries.]

[nutsaboutscans]

[He smiles reassuringly.] It's really just a small wound, not that deep.

Yours? What happened?

[blackmagus]

Glad to hear it.

[Fortescue considers what had happened. It had all happened very quickly and maybe that's why she's finding it so hard to put it behind her. It still feels like it could be happening. More Criers, sneaking up on her.

No. Not Criers. Whatever they are, it isn't those bloody bugs.]

A few of the... things surrounded me. They looked like animals I had to deal with during the war, brought over from another world. Criers. Or Shovelheads, as the soldiers liked to call them. Big bugs.

[nutsaboutscans]

Big bugs? [He makes a disgusted face.]

That sounds traumatizing. You okay?

[blackmagus]

It wasn't pleasant, but I'm all right.

[Well, she will be all right. Once she gets access to a drink, can properly clean her bruises, and can maybe curl up in a ball inside her room for a while. It's not the Criers that are the horrible part. It's the sounds they make. In Fortescue's case, the high-pitched distressed screams of her little sister.]

They're as tall as a person. Hopefully we don't have any real Criers on board. I don't think I'm ready for that.

[nutsaboutscans]

[He steps forward, touching her shoulder.] You sure? I'd be grateful for some company if that's what you're looking for, too. We could go get a drink or some food or something.

[blackmagus]

[Fortescue gives him a grateful smile.]

A drink does sound amazing right now, if you're game.

[As much as she wants to be alone, that's probably not the best idea.]

[nutsaboutscans]

Totally game.

[He's thinking about the same thing. He shrugs on his jacket carefully around his wound.] Should I meet you there or are you ready now?

[blackmagus]

[There's just the one thing to take care of, and she nods.]

I'll meet you there. Need to get something first.

[Something to clean her bruises up with, so that she doesn't have to put up with them as long. But that should take only a moment or so of snooping, unless spaceships have weird labeling systems.]