002: Nightmares...

[notmutantbutmiracle]

Who: Wanda Maximoff and others
Broadcast: Yes - Fleetwide (with additional filtered, private messages)
Action: SS Starstruck and Dust Planet
When: Over the past two weeks

[Week One After Nebula Incident]

[After the whole attack and nebula misadventure, Wanda began noticing a few strange occurrences. There were the obvious, random technology and lighting malfunctions on the Starstruck, but those did not take too long to fix and restore to relative normalcy. It was more personal oddities that were beginning to concern her. The first of which was the near constant headache that started to arise not too long after the ship passed through the nebula. At first, it had been nothing more than a dull, but still noticeable ache; however, it seemed to be slowly growing with intensity, and, while it would originally come and go, it also seemed to be becoming more constant. The periods in-between decreasing with each new wave of pain.]

[And then, there were the nightmares... She'd only had three so far, but they were the most troubling. They each started the same, but they were increasing in duration and in detail. She decided to keep the specifics to herself for now, but she had to know how others in the fleet were fairing and perhaps if anyone was experiencing something similar.]

[When the video feed clicks on, Wanda clearly looks somewhat disheveled. The nights of restless sleep brought on by the nightmares had clearly taken their toll on her. She looked tired, frustrated, and also a little bit scared. She does her best to appear calm, however, and speak in a level tone as she addresses the fleet.]

This is Wanda Maximoff on the SS Starstruck.

Has anyone in the fleet been having any headaches after our trip through the nebula? Or perhaps some kind of nightmares? If so, how long have they been lasting for you? If anyone has any advice on how to... numb these effects, please let me know.

[Week Two]

[She had hoped it would all pass: the headaches and the nightmares, though now she wasn't so sure these were mere nightmares she was having. Unfortunately, they only seemed to be getting worse and worse with each passing day. What had started as periodic waves of dull annoyance, had now become full migraines that left her almost reeling for a minutes at a time. Nothing she had done in attempt to quell the pain had lasted for very long, if it even worked at all. In addition, the "nightmares" were becoming much more frequent. It seemed like almost every time she closed her eyes now, she fell into them. What was worse was that they were affecting her surroundings as she slept.]

[Wanda's friends and shipmates will likely have noticed that they have not heard or seen much of her over the week. It seemed like she was trying to distance herself more and more from those around her. Anyone who does see her will be able to tell that she is not looking well. The effects of her lack of restful sleep are apparent in her face and her posture. She looks tired, and even more apparent... she looks scared. Thus, anyone who attempts to engage her will find her to be rather evasive, trying to wrap up their talk as quickly as possible for heading off somewhere. In fact, her shipmates may have noticed her entering rooms on occasion, only to flee when she notices someone else in the room with her. Any visitors to her sleeping quarters will see damage to the walls, ceiling and various fixtures. Items Wanda has collected from previous planetary visits are strewn about on the floor, and some are heavily damaged. It's also likely that Wanda's shipmates will have heard some screaming and banging coming from her room or the cargo hold.]

[The past three days...]

[If Wanda's communication with her friends and her presence on the ship had been dwindling the previous week, it was now completely gone. Anyone who cares to look for her on the Starstruck will not find her. Digging a little deeper, one would be able to find that one of the Starstruck's shuttle logs details a trip in which the shuttle departed for the nearby planet, only to quickly return to the ship on auto-pilot.]

[Wanda's friends and shipmates will find a short, text message from her on their communicators. It reads:]

Do not come looking for me.

[Those who do venture planet-side looking for her in town will not find her there. However, the townspeople have begun talk of strange, supernatural occurrences up in nearby desert mesas. It seems that those journey by have heard what sounds like screams or wails coming from them. Anyone who has tried to investigate has been attacked by red, etheric swirls of light, knocking travelers off their feet or transportation. No serious injury has been done to anyone yet, but it's clear that it's scaring the townspeople.]

Comments

Past Three Days

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[Open to any of Wanda's friends looking for her on the dust planet, or to anyone investigating the ghost rumors spreading in town.]

Searching on the planet:

[tothefly]

[Natasha may not know all that much about Wanda, but she knows that the woman's behavior over the last couple weeks has been anything but normal. Typos in text messages growing more prevalent, erratic conversations, the occasional way in a video or in person she'll catch the young woman clutching at a temple...something's wrong. Something really bad. And after the events of August, she's especially worried when she sees the text from Wanda on her comm.]

[So here she is, on the mesas, with camping gear and a pack just in case. She's heard the stories back in town, came armed just in case, but she's beginning to form a theory about these occurrences. A theory she hopes she's wrong about, as she rides out, searching.]

Mesas

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[During the day, there is no sign of the so-called "red spirits" supposedly haunting the mesas. There is also nothing that sounds like a scream or a cry to be heard either. If Wanda is here, she seems to have done a decent job of covering her tracks of any noticeable markers. A life on the streets with her brother, she's clearly picked up on a thing or two when it comes to finding places to tuck herself away in.]

[However, when night falls, that's when things go awry. The first noticeable detail is the sound of a scream, something sounding like a mix of pain and terror. A swirling cascade of crimson light flows through the various holes, cracks, and caverns of the landscape. As the light passes over some bits of rock formation, fragments may even break of. Some shards go flying in odd directions, while others crumble in midair as if being ground into dust by a large, invisible hand.]

Mesas

[tothefly]

[A day of searching brings Natasha no closer to finding anything out here. Still, something in her--experience, instinct, whatever it is in her core whispering--tells her that she should stay. Maybe she can learn something from whatever's happening out here. Maybe she'll die horrifically, another part suggests, but curiosity is enough to overcome it.

Both parts are, perhaps, rewarded when a scream wakes her from a light doze. Leaving her hobbled horse and pack, taking her weapons, Natasha takes off at a quiet run towards the sounds of rock shattering, the faint red light on the horizon. She doesn't make a sound, not yet, just moves as quickly and quietly as she can, creeping towards the commotion and straining to catch a glimpse of the source without getting crushed.]

Re: Mesas

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[The scarlet red, etheric energy continues to lash out at the various rock formations nearby. Foliage is pulled out of the ground, roots and all, and torn apart in mid air. Boulders and rocks are ground to dust. The shimmering strands of energy eventually cease their convulsions, but are whipped into another frenzy when another scream splinters into the night.]

[The tendrils of energy follow this pattern: frenzy, settle, scream and then frenzy again. It is hard to tell where these manifestations originated from, but it seems to be coming from somewhere more central, deeper inside the mesa landscape. It's also fairly clear that the source must be below ground. or at ground level. The bands of energy are not flowing down from some higher elevation, but worming their way out from a lower one.]

Re: Mesas

[tothefly]

[The red lights almost look like living creatures themselves, albeit ones not of this world. Unearthly, ethereal, dangerous. She'd consider them to be perhaps some sort of indigenous phenomenon, something local to the planet, but then there were the stories to consider. The rumors that had just started cropping up, after the fleet's limping arrival. She wonders about the correlation...and that scream couldn't be anything but human. So very human, raw and agonizing. She's familiar enough with screams like that.]

[It's not too difficult to develop a rhythm as she moves closer: find shelter as the tendrils of light writhe and ripple, tearing through the landscape, move as they slow, wait for a scream to find a new hiding place. She has to be getting closer.]

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[As Natasha draws closer towards the center of the mesa landscape, the bands of crimson luminescence grow in number. They continue their pattern of thrashing, slowing, resting and then restarting. Her presence does not seem to be acknowledged by them at all. Nor does their pattern of behavior change as she draws closer to their source. While the timing between screams does vary, the purpose of these variations seems to be random. In fact, the more Nat pays attention to the tendrils of energy, the more she is likely to notice that their behavior is similar to the limbs of child, flailing about during a tantrum... or a nightmare.]

[She must be careful, however. One disconcerting sight Natasha may witness is of a boulder getting ripped from out of the side of a mountain wall, but, as it and the produced debris fall through the air, it makes contact with another band of red energy and disintegrates. It does not bounce, break or become powder. It is erased entirely in a crackle and snap of energy.]

text;

[unbearablynaive]

[Knowing the people he does, that's an open invitation to come looking for her. Still.]

I will respect your privacy, if that is what you wish. However, should you need or want anything, simply name the time and place.

Text

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[Wanda's response is a little erratic, looking like she was having trouble hitting the keys to type out her message.]

Vjsiom? I- I m sprry. My pwers, myhead itsll hrts. I dpnt knw wgat tp do.

Text

[unbearablynaive]

[Ah, suddenly her message clears up for him - she doesn't want to put anyone else in danger.]

I'm sorry to hear that. I may be able to help. Do you feel that the power level is the same but your control is less stable, or that the power level itself is fluctuating?

Re: Text

[notmutantbutmiracle]

Cqnt rtell. Feeeel np cpnntrl. it hhrrts.

Dpnt vome her. plse. dqnnt wnt tohrtt ou.

Text

[unbearablynaive]

[He....actually isn't sure she could hurt him, but that's a very arrogant thing to say and so he won't.]

I understand. Will you accept assistance from a distance?

Text

[notmutantbutmiracle]

I dpnt undrsynd. How?

Searching the land!

[heresyandlace]

[there is a man out in the desert today, following rumor and spreading fear. because--as one who has been the source of many a ghost story himself over the years--he has his suspicions about their source in this case. he has a hunch that these myths have a face, and that this face is trying to hide.

so, naturally, he's trying to find it. besides... distance from the ships and crowds might do his own headaches and nightmares some good. he isn't dressed for the climate, he brings no supplies, and he doesn't carry a weapon. all he's got is immortal confidence, and an overabundance of curiosity.

and he keeps his senses open--all of them. he searches far and wide for hot-spots of high energy, and he lets his own aura bleed out as well. he is sure that sooner or later, one anomaly will eventually detect the other. he'll just have to be patient.]

Re: Searching the land!

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[During the day, it is unlikely that he will be able to detect or notice anything peculiar about the landscape surrounding the nearby mesas. Just as the townspeople liked to say in their stories, the specters or spirits or whatever was in the hills only appear at night. However, a close examination of some pathways may show a certain type of boot print that frankly wouldn't be coming from any sort of shoe that locals of the planet would be wearing. Unfortunately, after a certain point, the boot tracks end. The owner clearly has taken precautions to try and hide any sort of physical clue as to their location. A childhood on the streets has taught her some tricks on how to conceal one's presence.]

[Sure enough, when night falls strange events begin to occur. First, the sound of low moan or wail is carried on the wind. Then a shriek! A sound of terror and pain. Then the softly luminescent tendrils of crimson energy begin to stretch their way through the various rock formations. It is hard to determine their origin point, but they clearly are coming from somewhere central within the mesa's geography. They do not seem aggressive at first, but, as another scream pierces the quiet of the night, the tendrils become static before lash out widely. They tear at the surrounding environment, knocking rocks free and even ripping some plant-life out of the ground. Boulders are lifted off the ground, only to be broken into pieces as if crushed in a great fist.]

sorry for the delay, gosh

[heresyandlace]

[it's only once he really sees the destruction firsthand that he summons up any caution at all--and when he does, it's a pretty swift change. he goes from wandering heedlessly into the desert toward certain danger, to padding along with more attention, keeping his senses keen as he begins to circle toward the center of the mesa instead of marching straight toward its heart.

and he doesn't call out or announce his presence in any way, just yet. for now, he's still observing.]

No need to apologize! I haven't been super on point with tags myself. =P

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[As the crimson red tendrils thrash, it likely may become clear to Tek that they do not seem to be targeting, or even acknowledging, him specifically. In fact, the etheric strands soon settle, but are soon whipped up into another frenzy with another pained shriek rips through the night air. The way these bands of luminescence seem to be responding to the cries is almost analogous to the limbs of a toddler, whipping about in a tantrum.]

[As Tek draws closer to the center of the mesa formation, he must be careful, as the number of arms grows in number. With each new frenzy, more foliage and rock are ripped from the ground, torn to pieces or simply thrown great distances in seemingly random directions. One disconcerting sight, however, is of a bolder getting pulled out of a rock formation, thrown through the air, only to disintegrate upon contact with another luminescent, red tendril. It does not shatter. It is not ground to dust. It is erased in a snap and crackling flash discharged crimson energy. A faint smell of burning only remains.]

[Additionally, as Tek draws closer to the center, he is likely to notice that the strands do not seem to be coming from an elevated source. Rather, they are flowing upwards and outwards. Their source must either be at ground-level or below.]

[heresyandlace]

[to be fair... he does hesitate.

there isn't much that he considers a threat to himself, but he is rather partial to remaining living and whole, so his approach slows even more as he really gets to see the power behind this energy. for a few moments there, he very much considers going back.

in the end, though, there are only a few things that have a chance of turning around his very healthy sense of self-preservation-- and one of them is the loathing he has for being bored and unchallenged. he's always looking for something that seems interesting or important, and this phenomenon certainly looks like both.

if he went back now, he'd spend weeks regretting it. so, as carefully and calmly as he can, he continues to slowly make his way toward the nexus of it.]

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[As Tek draws ever closer to the source of these crimson nightmares, the cycle of thrashing, calming, screaming and then renewed frenzy continues. There does not seem to be a consistent pattern to the timing between these phases. They are sporadic, split up in their frequency and duration. His approaching presence does nothing to change this sequence, or its fairly random timing.]

[However, the number of tendrils continue to grow, and the screams sound closer and closer. At a certain distance, a new strange occurrence begins with each scream. When the cries sound, it'll start feeling as though Tek is not just hearing them out loud, but also inside his mind. It's more like the sensation of static, white noise than someone screaming in his mind. Nonetheless, he may find it difficult to keep his mind focused.]

[He is getting close though, very close.]

searching the land.

[redactions]

[ Wanda's message reaches him just as he observes a group of townspeople discussing what they should do about something quick and red that's been hurting them. Seeing things, they say. Awful things. But no one is dead (yet), and everyone seems fine, if shaken. ]

[ This is how it always starts, and the idea that Wanda's missing and uncommunicative when this is going on pulls him in its direction. He was going, anyway, he only ever needed a here there be monsters to be drawn to it. Birds of a feather. ]

[ None of the townspeople will lend him an animal, so he's taken supplies and walked out to the part where no one's going to, and everyone is trying to leave. ]

Re: searching the land.

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[During the day, it's unlikely that Jim will notice any obvious clues as to the direction that Wanda set off in, or where she might be located exactly. However, an observant eyes might notice some small clues that provide a vague trail that she probably wandered in. In some cases, Wanda has clearly tried to cover her tracks, and done a fairly good job at it. However, someone with Jim's training might have an easier time of picking up on the bits of evidence that she left behind in her wake.]

[At night, that's when the strange, spectral occurrences the townspeople have been talking about begin. First, the quiet of the night is broken by the sound of a low moan or wail carried across the wind. Then a shriek, a cacophonous eruption of both pain and terror, echos throughout the mesa. That's when the ethereal tendrils of scarlet red energy begin to appear. They worm their way throughout the mesa's landscape, not completely enveloping the geography but certainly spreading rapidly. When another shriek splinters the night air, the tendrils begin to lash out. They break rubble free from the rock faces, carving out chunks of boulder and grounding them into fine powder in mid air. Various plant-life is ripped from the ground and torn apart. When they spectral red lights settle, a new scream sets them off again.]

[redactions]

[ It's a vague trail, distorted, and deliberately chaotic. Jim waits until nightfall, content to chip carefully at his rations and water bottle: he'll have to make the trek back to the town to refuel, and already it's getting annoying keeping his body temperature lower by staying in the shade. He's lucky his arm's not overheating. ]

[ It's not so vague anymore when night falls. The scream shakes the ground and he's sure it could break apart the sky: there's red everywhere, like angry fingers across a chalkboard, and he grits his teeth, draws his sidearm, and follows them along, dodging or smashing anything they throw at him. ]

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[After some dodging and maneuvering, Jim might notice that the tendrils do not seem to be targeting him specifically. In fact, their thrashing is rather erratic. Spurned into frenzies whenever a scream rips through the night air, it's like they are the frantic thrashings of a toddler's limbs during a nightmare.

Nonetheless, Jim had better be careful. The deeper he travels into the mesa landscape, the more crimson strands of energy there seem to be. They continue to rampage each time a cry is heard. Ripping what little plantlife there is out of the ground and into ribbons. One disconcerting sight is of one of these crimson appendages ripping a chunk out of a nearby rock formation, sending it flying through the air along with various debris. However, the falling rocks, when they collide with another luminescent, red strand, disintegrate into thin air. They do not crumble, they are not ground into dirt, they are erased in a crackle and snap of red light.]

[redactions]

[ They don't seem to have any pattern or especial meaning, and the only reason things are getting destroyed here is for simply being in the way. Still, he keeps walking. ]

Hello? Is anyone there?

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[His questions do not receive any kind of intelligent response from either the luminescent tendrils or anything else. Instead, their cycle of thrashing, settling, scream and then renewed frenzy continues.]

[However, Jim is getting closer, as the number of increasing strands of crimson energy demonstrate. In fact, a new sensation begins to occur whenever a scream sounds out. Not only will Jim hear the cry out loud, but he will also begin to feel it in his mind. To be clear, it's not the actual sound or feeling of someone screaming in his head, but rather a pronounced short burst of static, or white noise. It's not exceedingly painful, but it may be enough to make it hard to keep a sharp mental focus.]

[These bursts may also begin to feel almost like a radar to him. Their duration increasing when he seems to be facing or heading in a certain direction.]

[Jim is getting close, very close.]