networkinthenight | [ѧׄѵٜҒեҡٜהػһ] - WEEҎЯҝLY BUЀLωؗҹTIN

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[ѧׄѵٜҒեҡٜהػһ] - WEEҎЯҝLY BUЀLωؗҹTIN - OPױҊ

WEEKLY BULLETIN

[This week, the bulletin opens with a video. It's been shot from a webcam that seems to be perched atop a computer screen, and in front of the screen is Robin, biting her lip as she types frantically. If she meant to start recording herself, she doesn't show it. A timestamp in the corner reads 17 NOV 03:02.

The room behind her is cozy, resembling the control deck of a battleship as redecorated by a teenage girl. That's essentially what it is, after all. The red beam of the lighthouse flares occasionally at the top of the screen.

Robin's harried typing continues for a few moments, uninterrupted, until a shadow slinks up from the staircase behind her. One by one, strings of fairy lights flicker out, the room going dark save for the glow of the screen. Robin finally notices just before the last of the lights die, her hands freezing on the keyboard, but she doesn't dare turn around, not yet.

This video comes with sound, and everyone's device's volume will crank to max volume to really emphasize Robin's shaky breaths as she listens, head tilting to glance over her shoulder at the darkness. The image flickers, crackling with static and distortion, until—]

Kë̥̟̝͇ͦ̈́̋— ee͍͔̺͔̖̕p— er͖̥͓͔̼̤͍—

[Robin whips around, her chair toppling over as she stands, but the video crackles again, and she's flung back against the desk. The computer screen crashes to the floor, taking the camera with it, and the feed stays focused on the floor for a long, long time. Eventually, it fades into static.

When it clicks back on again, the camera has been cocked up just enough to pull the room into view again. The timestamp in the corner reads 28 NOV 14:26.

Robin is slumped against the wall, filthy with blood and sweat, eyes glassy as she stares up at the forest spirit looming over her. The spirit cranes their head toward the camera, their eyes flashing green, and they wave to the viewers in a clumsy, jerking motion. Then, they drop something heavy and metallic in front of Robin, and she jumps at the sudden noise. It's a lantern, long broken and in pieces.

The forest spirit tips forward at the waist, bending down to press their face against Robin's as she whimpers and tries to keep still. They negotiate their forehead against hers, their green eyes flashing until she musters the courage to look up, and then they trill.

There's a scream, and the feed again cuts to static.]

anno҂ؼҘϷments

I don't kԻӟϔυ׹ what happen؇d. I'ӻԛ sorry. I think tϒйԷy're gone nэӽّw.

I can't delete thώӾҊ video. I've tried, but they fucked up my computer aՓ׳սϗׅаҚ؞םӆѺs forcing me to post the video file with פӡӆe bulleֺЛԬn. A lot of stuкϗϊԥןټ֫ԓՙֳ٤Ёs broken. I'll nԬгd to fix it.

ThԨЌґ ЬՉave me a lanшбҿٻӇٷա. I don't know whose מ֙طАϫ is. I need time to fiףУӊחѶЇϑӐٰЉՁׁٓӪ out.

Use this bҪӸϲetin to regroup and share informatЫׇղԭ with each Ծ֔ther. ҬѮere's no point in keԖ֞я֐ secrets.

I'֑ҩё OK. Thөy ҁ֥Ϙٶ؜ЭגӿӧױϐѲӢϥ.

Ԇ٣؏،ӂssifieds

ѤךٓвҚխԴ؃־Ӕщ׺ЅաҺѐϺӴϣҗԲՃԴѡ؀׋ҜӚԎ؋ӫӿоВ׵Ϝ؎ՇӂىҺЄЪؽՁԫԵӏ٢ӼϘլ֏ҟӼЁׇٰ֫ՄτӅ֪ؑФҭҶؚزӹ؝Сֳ֜ԦؐӫգٶϚѾбϏצغْװ֩ئіϬ؇ϽϚυկؤӥіؓГՁؿأأԽԼ؀ҡٷաϤֽӋԟԂїӦѰבӬѦӰիҷϑ֟ӗכֽС֐нѻّׄҳخرՓԨ؄ٖҤϚϰн֙؃Щҍ՝Ծ֔ٶԫױձҭкؓљӟώӍҭ׻صװٳزؙӱٮՎҊҬջйѫ֊ײؒυظԦְէٯ׾Ӫմ؝ҬѮ٤֔նѫټՆρ֮كס٧ςГӷֆҪץԁԊպՉϑϣז؁ѻӭ֎БӒٰт؏Ԋ٩ҪӸϲֈҾԁӂѤЂԳך֧ϮէӵءЫׇղԭљֶбҏ٬Ұ֝ՍשזԒӈبد؂Ѝ׃Ϩ׸ІҖЄשѺϺϭы҆ҠԇϘӢѱхԶϻԳضҩДֹԳէ֝ђҮӱӬќѬϿқғ׽ϱХϟѥԍظмӕֿӃѥչټփֹҎЯҝץѭѢ׈ϤϩԖ֞я֐خ׳Іيӆ֞ԀՁֿόӚ٦ԎӔ׭үՒ֕ӭل҈ёت֩қҒׯձмӉϘцӕϓ؃׋׸،ٶϯם֠Ϟϡў׋ϡѺժϽ׬сϢӡսѶ֪њҺӝٰԃϨ׫ٗإϢ֥ҍ؟ԲҧϜٲҎЖ؟ӒҗԹЊӫԗӰֹكϾ֎յِרϦϞׂԢЁ؟ӴРיسմһϡϺӘӃҎЀҎӑЪϲϨը֞צЊ՝խՅ՗҅тغќԆתςءҶّֈ׍ϣԃ֑ٗВҗԺٯ״ؤԭюҧؗـׇ٘ռ؁րתսؿҌӜ֋נՌӟӔز֬Ը٠ЍИ֑Ѡ١ІآԒتҪ԰٫ҩمѾѳ؇ٖ׳ӑϴҾرҭА֪ӗ՘ү֩ԮЍҁҎыҁԛٶдԁѥՎмҷ؆ӖٸҲϦԣَϗԯѤآԤϕ׮֊ؿг؆ϬҢڀ׊ԽϬў׮ύϭӣч؈ՒԖצԨבЂ٦՘׺הԿҊтջϥחїپԪֱѱ׋յҽҮٞӀяЮёֳ֒٧ӴҵύԗԯϴԮ٧Հϴբր٥؋ӧ՛קש؋

؋ԟϮԌض٤Ҿ֡֟ԦՊיԕИҴрٮֺՄϳ׃סՅа׏֤ԝװٽعєҠфպيӒ֞ԵՋُ֩ҧԵِѿףԸУҿ׿הӾӈӑגؕٙӫնП՚ٛ٤ة׫гһ׬ѳҌСϦ֍شԱԅѲح؎ѷԨٲدֶؕдЅ֞ٞҠزыјԔҠوԜѺ֛ՄҸתиЪϧӉյгѲԧ֒ڀՂҸ׫ЍӳДظѢϬҶԖԞԨҠٗوضՐЂЯҲϷԵҴҖԻ׀ԑҬФ؝҅ҏ؋ґԔصфѬծշ֪֪҅ؔپњҼЙփҩױҊѺρωؗҹ،ٝ׷сКӧؖբϙֲٖٞҁϋؓҧёׅԏ֙ػԂԩԳϣِؤӫ֬тϚ׻Єׁؼ׉ӉҹׁսٜѲاԕӱ֮ҘֽҸѠҦѫפӡիمГמՐٱЃ҃եӵыгԘӽ׬ҶϹЎֈׯչϑـּ؄٫մՆ֌ӷؕ׭а԰єثزӬҜϽٺؒϗТѳѤРы֖ؽӶϞѦϻӺոאӕҡٜהػһӹפԷЊӼԯչժӌԋЉٜϷҬپضһלЁӂѮѿѲҲؾѽԤИԠЎеַٛҹشҲ֬ӱ؊ҒծҪцְՅײӰوҕ؝؛ӍدԎԵج֙ԯҀ׹Ըحгҳ׆

Н؉ؙЀٴճֹ׃Ϝتѫيָ׃ֲَѕ֖رպҀԳՖϜϷ՞ؔ֎֞յЈًӟҪيמԃѿ֡Ս٘׋ϕў؈֬ѧׄѵٜҒեЀЊϓπюֈպմӴքدѧֺϹӠՊՔٔҫ׶Ўبؓбئ׮؂ן

Ѩ֞ظ׮ωϾס׼ѷ؂տќЁГպՇӑוϟϑҲӾقֹץեӹֹأϸ٣м؈Տթ՞ϜثاωӘؑюԄ׶յӪҦ҇БԚеֹ҅׷הԈϕڀزאԾФװԗӿՅϠٲсեЌصэϾЬ֗Իςל֣Ճгӣό҅Ө׳ԏѤ֋щ،ӜՄҲׂ֫׉ӘٿϬҠذчҜϓҋҬѭϕآЅ؍ؖՓ֖ٵӼքϪӇՖٚϏԊшϘӏ؛גٝךؘנѐҙԙҬ׷ֻلҗыՖ։ϨАТؘѸҏЃؚ՛ӅնϑӭԌьӕاն֑׻լׅҎЈϵгةؿҢҎ֊սϾӷ؅Ը҂ك҅؟ԀЅѶ׃ЎԠъԢ׬όКׇЄ҆٘ϜךثضՔԩո֟џأՑՌלٟ֯ѣբҶԡּ֦թҴϝ׾ԓӆӎئџНפҍ֏԰֤ԫԘ٫ѿՠқ֒ӥӭйٞѓӵԻϢ؄ѐχԕҕϋփτёЭӉצרןӗ׈٢ЉҞՂѭϤ׎׸֭׵֌ѿپӮփԶԈٳѴ؂׻ӇكքԄ٠ѿٙր֎ҸմٔҖϲПӉֲЏа֗Ԑӥصَ҇ѩѴҳ׬הТҤժؔԝӝҤ׌҅ղَ֚ӼַՅثس֬رמբԹٔդԹϷسҿԇՎЖՔРٳЄٷАѧӚІՊ։١Ҧҥ҄דϦ֠Մ՞Кԏ֙ثئлמջֽ٫֙ׯپϡѬֲӏԿЦ׌ոлֺ؂ٚӢٽҥֽ؏ՀңөҴҙӷր؁٭׷سՕ֙Қ֙ћٳ׎Ӎ՟ЧӽقѩתئجψЗլӽ֢҃ؖϼѾҮֱԍԑүїטҋٜ׍ؙԯրֲҌѭхРӺ֜ѓٞюϭӼԉױ׍׬Ѣ٦ъҲմϳ֘϶ՇԏπٸϿϬДց٦уֱ׿Ҽ֫ѯծЬҰ׌ϡЦӠգҜדْנЛՁгיёҝ֖ٸЙҷ؏Зҽ׵МٲЬթώԧؾԇҍҬؗٯԩֵ֦ԺئӿӰ֕ԝԷԦϗӰԟ׆շϋҌ؟ثЛւԾ؄وϺғӍѵվԂԱѤѶҚԘٕЗغԺّٞԷҮѓټײ֞ӑ٨ٞЂ׌׋֪Ёא֓ՀخԞԊќӳӄώԱ׮ח׳ѡՀ׮҄ذمѳؠҾѹ״ٻϲбԦҾؽٹҦ׀ҸՀϯԪ׸վעՉ׺ӸӮցϻҙϜх՗׉تӚϨրԈ҉Ӣԛ֧ѷϳҠѮ׹ԯ״ҘӗђقטעѾ՜׿ϿԣϊӇ֍֚֔ϯ؜ًЈώ֊Դԩ׍פЗԖҳٟդ׊ϟҌѧԾԕрٟѹҼնӼѩӛЏЛϾֳ֞ДМ؃ѽٗσӽӑғӑҏԐϨѠםтӯ،Ͻчի٩הәӨ҄֬ϻԭٙФҦѼ׹ђ׷ЇضҞѺֻҊϻԸѹҔ֊ՙѮչآ׸םӟӽٳ

If yԭ׭ҹրгϛЍֺԹС to subҼظԘt an advertisement, חոϙӣҞՐ҇ՑԧғτӸВѫ϶se drop them bׂѤ׊؛טҗӐѝըϠӚ׉كՎϛӫ٫ٚ؄ոճحПֹЃРؾϔӽ־Ӎice.

oٌՎطد҆ёװғԟ٢Ӷֶَճؑաӏries

Jչآ׸ם Gordon

Hermione Gӟӽٳnger

GriҊϻz Visser

VaniҔ֊ՙas

Bucky BѺֻԸѹs

DaҰ׌ϡina Clairӭ

Nyx UlrФ؝҅

XayЁh

There miѧӚt be more. WІՊ։١Ҧe still ԇՎЖՔРٳЄٷАѧӚІՊ։١ bodies.

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Again you confuse compassion for pity. Boundaries for orders. You're so blinded by your anger all you see are threats all around you.
What you want is something to take your hurt and anger out on.
Sorry, but I'm not your guy.

the day will come when you as well will die by their hands
I'll see your pity and compassion then,when your dying moments come to haunt you.
Until then, you are right, you are not my guy.

I hope so. I'll still be working on my ocarina in the meantime. [Oh wait, he just has the one hand.] Or maybe just studying the notes anyway. And I talk to the gods more than I would like and of course when I could use them they go silent...but that's actually pretty standard too.

Not long...a day or so? I need to have someone check it, the original patch job was a bit of a rush. Though, even without ambrosia I can probably heal a little faster than the average person.

[His godly parentage came with perks beyond wind and lightning. He was fairly durable as well and could recover fast...though being here an practically drained of his abilities would be pushing it.

The question takes him by surprise. He doesn't mind the shift in topic so much, talking at least keeps his mind off the throbbing of his arm.]

I haven't had that honor, though I have some friends who have been there. Why do you ask?

That's a surprise, hero. Maybe they're just keeping your spot warm for you while you're helping us out.
Sorry. It's not often I run into people from worlds I've heard of around here.
I saw someone offering healing further down on the bulletin, better get that looked at before something else happens.

There should be a bag of food and some jugs of water from this morning's trip near the door.
I didn't think to grab any alcohol.

[ Again. He really should have, if only to replenish their stock of bandages and disinfectant. With the ferry coming, he'll soon find their medical supply needs thoroughly replenished. ]

There's some good stuff here. I'll bring something back tomorrow.
If you need anything sooner, tell me.
You can use the electric bike outside but take it easy, I haven't built a headlight yet.
Quentin?

You just love being mysterious, don't you.

[At least he wasn't quite as cryptic as others he had met. Even via text Jason can tell Riku's teasing him to an extent, so it's not all bad.]

You've been to Olympus? [Pause.] Wait, but that's not the name of the whole WORLD...[is it? He lived on Earth, but then again he knew a lot of others were from some version of Earth too so maybe that wasn't entirely helpful.] I think. It's just where the gods live.

[ He hasn't forgotten what they've been through, how much Jason must have suffered. It's just after everything, these little spots of normalcy are a balm. ]

Me? Get real.
Closest I've been is Thebes.

Sora has. He used to tell me all about his friends there and how cool it looked.
If there's a hero who deserves to visit Olympus, he's it.
You said it's not the name of the whole world, I think this came up before.
It sounds like the worlds are bigger where most of these guys are from than they are for me.
Which... I mean, it makes sense, considering how things came to be the way they are back home.

You sound frustrated.

[ Not that he's alone. ]

I know I haven't made that any easier. I get the feeling your advice came from personal experience.
Just wish I'd followed it sooner.

[ It wouldn't be. If Riku's temper had taken that sort of turn and he decided to return Vanitas's warning with a fist to his cheek, that wouldn't have been the first, either.

Sometimes he reflects on that, how everything changed when Sora left. They changed but not all at once, a slow erosion that might have crumbled them both if they didn't - kind of accidentally - keep finding things to hang onto.

Sometimes he thinks about what Vanitas let slip to him once, that they didn't all need to survive and Riku thought he might mean Vanitas didn't mean to. Whether that's still the case, whether people like Vanitas and Bruce and Daylight, whether his friends need Riku the same way he needs them. Whether he can be enough to be the thing they cling to by their fingernails, trying not to drop into the oblivion that waits on the other side of despair.

He needs more than he can say, which is why he doesn't draw back once the distance has been closed. Riku's pale lashes don't quite conceal the glance he sends sideways at Vanitas when he says I'm right; in the wake of it, the corner of Riku's mouth twitches into a brief smirk, a little wry. He can't talk, even whispering is out of the question; Vanitas pushes his luck like he presses on an open wound, just to see what wells up.

No, that's not right, either. Not anymore.

I'm right. Riku lets his head incline a little, nodding.

He stands there, head tipped down over another's shoulder, slowly tapping the screen of his tablet with his fingertips, angled into the narrow space between them. ]

dont push your luck

[ Riku lifts his hand. He hesitates, then presses his palm against the place where he had been fatally pierced. It hurts, it's risky to speak, but he chances it to whisper: ]

Sorry.

Hindsight's twenty-twenty, right? Which I've never really got, for the record, because apparently we also view the past through rose-tinted glasses, so which is it?

[after placing the tablet away, Quentin hurries as much as he can getting things ready and within easy reach of the waking sleepers. The supplies Riku mentioned are placed in the former strategic room, along with bottles of water and the pile of gathered tablets.

He struggles in to a random coat that someone picked up at one point. It's too big, the sleeves reaching all the way down to his fingers, but it's less pressure on the wound on his back and with a too-tight shirt on top of the make-shift bandages, he hardly feels it. Now it only feels like something is on fire, running from the base of his skull and all the way down to the edge of his pants.

It's fine.

What's not fine, is the 'electric bike' Riku, mentioned. Because it's a motorcycle and there's not way Quentin could operate that through the forest without slamming in to every tree on the way. He ties his well-worn travois to a regular bike and sets off.

It's so much faster than walking, biking through the forest, but no less nerve-wracking. He's keeping his eyes peeled the whole way, ready with his bow on the handlebar just in case something tries to jump out at him or fall from the upper branches of the trees.

He reaches the town without meeting anything, and Quentin breathes a sigh of relief, parking the bike awkwardly by the docks before heading down to meet Peter.]

Hey!

But some people will.

Let me check in with Quentin — apparently he was holed up in the armory, I want to know how the camouflage held up against the spirits.

You think the spirit's got friends back in the town.

[ kol loves parties, especially when they're bloodied, but the second of hesitation he has in signing his name up for this is what his mind seems to cling desperately to. he really shouldn't be allowed to go on a little trek where he can easily throw himself into the line of getting killed, especially not with how emotionally unstable he's starting to become at davina's name on that list and her disappearance. ]

If I was the spirit, I'd have the same plan in place. [ did have the same plan in place once, ended in a great bloodbath. ] What's your proposal then? A causal social gathering of like-minded individuals head to the Lighthouse and the rest of us remain as a party back here?

[ he's not letting go of the party theme. rip it from his dead hands!!! ]

Danger is my middle name. But not really? My middle name is Makepeace. But you know what I mean. I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to, and we didn't-- it wasn't-- you helped when you didn't have to, and I want to return the favor. And I want to make sure Robin is okay.

I found it, and it's where it's supposed to be and don't worry about the alcohol, I'll get some on the way back. I don't think I'm the only one who needs it - one way or the other, so it seems only fair I go get it myself.

[Not to drown out the horror of the past few weeks, but to disinfect the wound running from the top of his spine and all the way down to past the edge of his pants, but it's. Not important right now, and once he gets back, maybe the sleepers will be awake enough to lend a hand. If not, there's always going forward the way he's been handling it so far - pouring it down his back and wearing a towel underneath a t-shirt a few sizes too small.]

Light doesn't seem to work here, so. It's fine. I'll take a look and maybe I'll decide that today is not the day I want to crash land in to a bush on my way in to town. It doesn't really feel like a bike-crash kind of day, you know?

Yes, Riku?

[ Antibiotics, too. Fortunately for them, the ferry will have plenty of these supplies when it arrives, but in the meantime, Riku thinks he might have to scour the general store for any remaining behind the racks. They won't be the only one scraping the bottom of the figurative barrel.

So many of them were badly hurt.

The light he's thinking of comes from the bonfire, like the old ways cave explorers used to light their way in the belly of the island. That's a conversation for another time. ]

I'm not that good at this.
Just wanted to say thank you. For hanging in there. For...
Being a friend.

[ peter's lucky, quote-unquote, in the sense that there's no-one here that he knows from home — sure, bucky's name on that list is a stark reminder of home, but it's not the same bucky that time travelled to the future that one time in a very bizarre set of events. (he's also not even buckycap.) that's not to say he's detached: if he was, they wouldn't be having this conversation.

he's bothered by it all. he hates the fact that he was functionally useless while the town was attacked for two weeks and someone else had to protect him.

so like, welcome to peter "i feel disproportionately responsible for literally everything, ever" parker and his many, many feelings. ]

It did the last time. [ beat. ] Did this time as well, by all accounts — why fix what's not broken, right? Assuming that's the aim, but I can't quite work out what's changed. Hurting Robin is pretty contrary to what the spirits are supposed to do - they attacked the last time because they couldn't tell if we meant her or the lighthouse any harm.

So given her purpose, from a purely pragmatic perspective, we need to make sure Robin's fine. [ that's side-stepping the fact that in spite of himself, peter's actually pretty fond of her. ] But it's a catch-22. Maybe it's a trick. Maybe that's the point.

—But yeah, pretty much. I was still thinking a more sombre affair than a party, but sure. I think I'm going to start swearing off parties in general, so I'm probably not the best guy to ask.

I-- [There's a sound of rustling, like Quentin is shifting around maybe, curling around the tablet in a corner somewhere, away from the slowly emerging sleepers. Except they're not anymore, they're all awake and talking quietly to each other or to Quentin. And he's spent so long wishing for this, hoping against hope that they would all wake up and be exactly as before and now -- they really need to be a little more quiet?

There's life in the armory again, the feeling of other people doing people things and they don't really understand what it's been like, to stay here in the dark with little company and less hope. Where every stand could be the last and the person standing shoulder to shoulder with you, could very well be the last person you'll ever see. They don't understand why the hallway is littered with weapons or why it had to done, why there are wounds left untended on the people who haven't really slept in weeks or why being around a lot of people who can talk back? Is just a lot right now.

So, Quentin is tucked away somewhere, not hiding but breathing and he pulls the tablet closer, speaking lower. Heartfelt and stumbling.]

It's-- you're welcome. I'd like to say 'anytime', but jesus I really don't want to do this again any time soon. It's been-- [Riku knew what it had been like, no words had to be said about that, no explanation necessary] As horrible as this is going to make me sound? I'm happy you were here. The-- that it was you? Easier to fight with someone you trust than someone you don't.

Kind of a dick thing to do, isn't it?

( wake up and spread chaos? it's a good entrance, he'll admit, but still. )

So, your world's basically gone?

Let me know what he says. Quentin's a good guy, I'll trust whatever he says.

( don't blush if you see this, quentin. )

Hey. [ peter's not entirely sure what quentin's expecting from the conversation, but he gets it. quentin's not wrong in that it's better to do this away from the network, where it's more than obvious that the spirits can hear and read what they say to one another.

all of that said and done though: peter's not really got a plan. if this were anywhere else, he's not sure he'd even really need one beyond 'okay, suit up, go find the thing, web the thing, go home'. the issue here is that going and finding the thing means opening the town up for further attacks which is absolutely the last thing he wants.

(does "complicated" begin to cover it?)

it's slightly different, too, to having spoken with someone over the network and made sure they're okay (by a definition of the word okay) and actually seeing them. two weeks of being attacked and looking out for other people — it's not something everyone has experience with and even if they have, it's not something that's not going to take a toll.

a moment passes then, and he gives quentin a quick once over, before: ] So I think I'm about to get a complex over going to parties. [ beat. ] What supplies did you need, by the way?

[ daylight has been debating.

but- he feels like the other should know- ]

You need to be careful. If you or anyone else decide to do that. [ he fumbles a bit, unsure of how to word this. he tries to not make it sound super alarming but- ]

There's a chance you'll lose something in the process.

And I desperately need to brush my teeth? Noooo, I can't really-- I've never been there. I've never needed to desperately brush my teeth at 2 AM. I just-- why? Why not just, chew gum?

Makepeace?

( what a cool middle name you had, quentin. )

I'm not going to turn down any help especially from you. I know what you can do and there's not many people I'd want to be at my back but you're one of them.

What do you mean, Day?

[ Riku wonders when that started happening, when he started calling him Day instead of Daylight. He hopes he doesn't mind. It's... funny. All that effort to hide him away and Daylight had never been in any real danger. Not on the outside of whatever he was dreaming about, anyway. ]

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[ѧׄѵٜҒեҡٜהػһ] - WEEҎЯҝLY BUЀLωؗҹTIN - OPױҊ

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Here is fine! I'm real easy

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( voice; @daylit. )

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text; @riku