[ѧׄѵٜҒեҡٜהػһ] - WEEҎЯҝLY BUЀLωؗҹTIN - OPױҊ

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

[necromantiae]

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.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

My mother's maiden name.

[Try living a life of being named Quentin Makepeace Coldwater and see how you like it, Ambrose! j/k, New Jersey kids were used to weird names like that.]

I like the sound of that. We need to meet up to talk about this because this really isn't the place for it. You heard them last week? Talking? Using our own words. This isn't safe.

[necromantiae]

That's probably a good idea, yeah.

( no one liked a spy. )

Just tell me when you've got time and I"ll stop by. Now that we're not being attacked by nasty little gremlins, I have free time.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

I think I'll be going back to the armory after?

Because we don't really know, do we? That it's over? Sure, they haven't tried to attack anyone in a day or so. But. What if they're just waiting us out. Be careful.

[necromantiae]

You can't live in there, Quentin.

( lightly teasing. )

But I can meet you there in a little while.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

[Oh no? Just watch him!]

I'm not-- I'm not going to live there. But there are still people who might need, you know, medical attention or something? And the sleep-- uh, the people who were sleeping, need food and water. Warmer clothes.

I should be back in a few hours. I found a bike! This is so much easier than trying to walk everywhere. But still, though. Ambrose? Be careful in the woods.

[necromantiae]

Don't worry about me.

( he smiles and even throws in a wink because he can, because he's him. )

I'm gonna be fine, I promise.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Uh huh, right. I'm totally not worried right now. That really set my mind at ease, thanks. For that.

[Teasing because he can, and because Ambrose knows. Was there. Saw as much shit as Quentin did and fought his way through it. Back to back with him some of the time.]

[necromantiae]

Do I need to come find you and give you a hug so you calm down?

( he would. )

[moderatelymaladjusted]

I'm on my way through the forest, so no? I'm fine. But everyone at the armory woke up. Maybe you want to see Eliot? I'll be back there soon.

[And Quentin out, stuffing the tablet in to his pocket as he parks the bike. Getting ready to talk to Peter about saving Robin.]

[necromantiae]

Eliot doing okay? Bitching up a storm?

( he hopes so since that would mean things are starting to return to normal. )

[moderatelymaladjusted]

He's awake. A little confused and hungry, but. Who wouldn't be, after sleeping for so long.

[Nowhere near normal, but Eliot is awake, which is-- everything.]

[necromantiae]

Tell him I'll stop by when I can and to not get himself too worked up.

( poor eliot. )

You okay?

[moderatelymaladjusted]

I'm not going to do that, no. You tell him that yourself when you get here.

[Quentin sighs, and there's a sound of rustling as he rubs his face with his free hand.]

Not really. But I'm getting there. You?

[necromantiae]

I will, I will. But, you can tell him too. Double the Ambrose.

( and everyone loved that, right? )

I'm fine. I'm always fine.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Oh, I don't think that's-- one of you is enough.

[Still teasing and maybe Ambrose can pick up the teasing tone of his voice, if not when he says it, then the change when he starts talking again.]

Uh okay. It's okay not to be? Just-- so you know.

[necromantiae]

I know and I'll let you know if I'm not. But, it takes a little more than a supernatural invasion to get me down.

( also, he had great coping mechanisms that allowed him to repress a lot of things. )

But, I'm good. Ninety plus years on this planet and I'm pretty good at dealing with weird stuff.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

You must have led an-- interesting life.

[wasn't that a curse? Living in interesting times, or having an interesting life?}]

See you later, old man.