peckishmods: ([place] forgotten places)
peckishmods ([personal profile] peckishmods) wrote in [community profile] peckenpaugh2020-01-29 12:48 pm

SO LATE THAT IT'S EARLY

a frigidly cold night
what's up? The unrelenting icy cold sends most everyone inside early tonight. Even with magical heating, it’s hard to keep the chill away, almost like the holler, itself, wants you to stay snug under the covers, safe in your bed.

Sleep comes quickly and heavily tonight, and students dream of singing bugs and dancing birds…
Not a collaborative routine but two performances at odds, each vying tonight for your attention, dear child. The dancing of the birds beckons — follow and find truth and memory — but the buzzing insect song vibrates in your very bones, too: they are home, they are warmth, they are safety. Stay, stay, stay.

You are pulled in two directions in a forest of old maples. Beneath your feet the ground grows warm as vines creep up from strange dark cracks in the ground, climbing over each maple until they are overgrown with ivy leaves that look like fire — that are fire — and the maple seeds that fall from the dying trees as they burn are the singing bugs, their music fading until only one insect’s song remains.
Tonight, four pairs of feet climb from their beds and follow the birds.

Tonight, four different pairs of eyes open at the sight of the burning forest. Merlin Pletcher, Howdy Stoppelbein, Presley Mondragon, and Cicero Cook each wake with a start, each with a feeling of terrible dread.

And from there as more students wake it quickly becomes clear that something is very wrong:

It is late, so late as to almost be early, and Gertrude McGilliguddy, Xenia de Bourgh, Patrice Tang and Atlas Quigley are gone from their beds, nowhere to be found…
how this works! Welcome to Peckenpaugh’s second major petition event! The primary winners of this event were Trudy, Xenia, Patrice and Atlas!

Petition winners please check your email again. we've sent a message to you all with more information. You can then refer to the “SOMEWHERE CLUTTERED” header for post-dreaming details!

Xenia de Bourgh has lost her journal and can’t find it! As soon as she realizes, Mr. Stirling provides her with a new one. It’ll take about 48 hours to get her properly added to the journal network, so for the next two days any of her journal posts or comments will be signed “UNREGISTERED USER”, rather than with her own name.

Merlin, Howdy, Presley and Cicero all woke with a start ahead of everyone else in the school. We assume y’all got the word out to staff that students were missing, eventually! Feel free to play these portions out in threads or journals, just put a descriptive timestamp in the subject of your posts.

There is no magic at work obscuring the location of the four missing students. They should be easy enough to find with the right tracking magic.

Classes are canceled for Thursday, January 30th, but will resume again on Friday. The scheduled party at Mothgarden is still on — if asked, the staff just doesn’t want the kids to worry too much. Also they have all this cheese and chocolate to deal with.

For the next few weeks, each House will have a faculty member staying in the chaperone’s room on the first floor over night. This’ll make shenanigans a bit harder, but (hopefully) disappearing kids less likely. The schedule is rotating, though usually it is your Head of House.

Mr. Purcell and Mr. Stirling can be seen around campus for the next week or so double checking magical locks and wards on all the dorms.

There is a sense that Peckenpaugh staff is taking this very seriously. Even the most immature faculty members aren’t making jokes about it, and it’s clear that most staffers have been given additional work investigating what’s happened. The four disappeared students can expect regular check-ins from their heads of house, and TAs may find their workloads increased as teachers hand off paper grading and other small tasks to them for the next few weeks...
locations! AWAKE ON CAMPUS: After the first four students wake, it doesn’t take long for the rest of campus to start stirring. From there, word quickly spreads that four students are missing. This is a space to thread any on campus scenes before the students are located.

SOMEWHERE CLUTTERED: Dark and cold and musty. There’s so much junk in here, you can probably guess where you are without too much brain power…

SO LATE THAT IT'S EARLY: Returned to campus, the four missing students are held in the infirmary overnight, checked for any injuries, any signs of strange enchantment or forbidden curses. Aside from some reddened skin on their backs, there’s nothing. Their parents are informed via owl immediately. You may have slept like the dead earlier in the night, but for the rest of the night sleep proves fleeting for everyone...

OOC - QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS!
bigshoulders: (🎷002)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] bigshoulders 2020-01-30 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
Atlas's shoulders fall back where they're supposed to when Jupiter walks in. For the first time in a very strange night, he's pretty sure he's back among the living. This must be reality, because Jup found him. He does a fairly good job of not looking too excited. He smiles. And grumbles, contentedly, like an old dog who doesn't mind being pet, really, when she messes up his hair. He collapses a little further, leaning his shoulder against hers. Now that's safe.

He takes a moment to say anything, though, because he's not sure how to summarize really any of that into a way that seems believable and will also not make her worried. "Would you believe." He begins, with a resigned amusement that can't help peeking through, "You've been missing Elflock Lanes Midnight Bowling for your entire life. And I got to go.."
gasgiant: (👾 incredulous)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] gasgiant 2020-01-30 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
Her brows go up, and she presses into her brother's leaning form, a couple of knuckleheads staring in silence for a beat. Atlas says Elflock Lanes, and somehow she knows exactly where he wound up, and that gnarl in her stomach pulls a little tighter, knowing Atlas and Xenia and Trudy were all there, with that locked up hatch in the middle of the night.

"Shit, junior, I walked so you could run," Jupiter fires back without heat. Nothing is wrong. He's safe, now. She is here, and they can joke. They certainly don't need to worry that a bowling alley is trying to eat them or something. "Did the damn door stick for you, too?" Another pause. "You're all in one piece? Cuz... mom's gonna kill me if you're missing a thumb or something."
bigshoulders: (🎷045)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] bigshoulders 2020-01-30 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm fine." He is, physically, intact, and he waves a thumb around to prove it. This is good news, and it's to buy time for the weirder stuff. Because god, he wishes the door had just stuck. That would've made sense. He stills, wrinkles his nose, because in the safety of this infirmary, everything there feels far away.

"No, it was...weird. I woke up there. I had a dream...but I'm not sure it was all a dream. Because when I woke up, I was in this mask, and there were these people standing around in hoods. And the floor got really hot. And then we were alone again."

As evidence that he's not completely making this up or completely insane, he reaches for the mask souvenir he took from this and holds it out for her inspection. "...So maybe don't tell mom all of it anyway." He doesn't think his mother would wish his presence upon herself in a way that means he has to go back, and he isn't sure what the school's going to say. But. Just in case.
gasgiant: (👾 eaves getting dropped)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] gasgiant 2020-01-30 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
Jupiter takes the mask in both hands and examines it with an expression so tautly pulled to neutrality that it does not look neutral at all. This mask is not exactly the same, but she recognizes it instantly. She'd worn one herself, for that secret poetry meeting.

She runs her fingers over the keyhole and the silence that settles over them feels almost oppressive. She doesn't know what this means at all, doesn't trust herself or her brain enough to make sense of it. Jupiter Quigley's just a jock who likes to make donuts, not a mystery solver. Still, she resolves to ask Lionel about it. She also resolves something else.

"Ah, man, I won't tattle," she says, low and breathy, her warm demeanor breaking that icy quiet that held them. Though she doesn't really want to, she offers the mask back to Atlas, jostling him with her shoulder. "Glad you're okay, squid." And because Quigleys are fearless, and because they are a pack of wolves, she adds, "We'll figure out who we need to fight for dragging us into bowling alley basements and we'll kick their asses, huh?"
bigshoulders: (🎷022)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] bigshoulders 2020-01-30 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
That silence weighs about three metric tons of lead sitting dead on his chest. He isn’t used to it. Especially not from his invincible older sister, who is always the source of noise, of light, and reassurance. The moment you realize your idols are human is never easy. This one isn’t either, and he’s grateful when she breaks it with something familiar. Tattling and going to the source of this with violence. Yes. He can wrap his head around that. He puts the mask to the side. To be dealt with later.

“Sooo, how do you feel about beating up little boys.” He turns his eyes up, grinning in a way that suggests maybe this is just an average bully that they have to round up the rest of the pack to defeat. “Alternately, freeing him from a basement.”
gasgiant: (👾 hming about it)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] gasgiant 2020-01-31 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
"I'll punch anyone," Jupiter boasts with too much bravado to be taken seriously, jabbing her thumb to her chest. Letting whatever it is out, though, that gives her pause. She drapes her arm over Atlas's shoulder and pats the other side, with a loud, thoughtful hum and a breath exhaled through her nose. Jupiter Quigley is fearless—that's her brand—but fearlessness is not the same as foolishness, no matter how much she strives to make it seem that way at times. Eventually, she settles on a shrug. "Let's learn a bit more about Mr. Kidnapper before we go throwing his door open, huh?"
Edited 2020-01-31 03:02 (UTC)
bigshoulders: (🎷018)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] bigshoulders 2020-01-31 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
Although there's something weird, still, about Jupiter pausing at this, he doesn't press it. He's relieved, actually. Which feels like cowardice. There's something in the pit of his stomach that makes him feel he should find the boy. But he's scared of what he'll find. So there's no protest. He shrugs, even. "He didn't seem much fun at parties."

He sits up a little, reaching his arm around her shoulders too. Lest she mistake this as sweet, though, he reaches into her thicket of hair and yanks. Gently. Kind of. "And I have other stuff to do anyway."
gasgiant: (👾 hming about it)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] gasgiant 2020-02-02 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
Jupiter knocks her chin up and exhales a huff of air through her nose. "What kinda nerd stuff do you got lined up, huh?" she asks, a bit too soft and fond to sound all that bullying. Always, she is careful to stay on just this side of unserious. So long as she's still joking, it's all fine, right? It's all fine.

"Hey," she pauses, lips pursing, and lifts her brow. "No secrets?"
bigshoulders: (🎷022)

Atlas & Jupiter

[personal profile] bigshoulders 2020-02-02 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, y'know." He drags out, trying desperately now to remember his hobbies, or anything else that happened before tonight. "Quod brackets, a new sax arrangement that you're gonna hate..." And she really is gonna hate it, but his grin looks maybe more tired than annoying, right now.

He stills for a second, after that, weighing whether this is a promise he can really make. But there's really only one answer. "No secrets." He nods, and then looks up, sharper. "You, either."

He's younger. But that doesn't mean she can go off on some weird revenge thing without him.