TOIL AND TROUBLE ❄ PART 2

[nightmods]

TOIL AND TROUBLE ❄ PART 2

They say to never split the party but this Halloween, they absolutely need to. A quick flyby of the Sandersons' house shows it's empty - they're out trying to find the children that stole their magic book.

In the meantime, they have other problems. They are seriously outnumbered by the witches and there are still un-evacuated children in the town. They know that Sarah Sanderson will likely soon sing her song to lure children to wherever the Sandersons' intend to feed on them. There are also allies to try to gather, and other witch problems that have surfaced.

There is nothing else for it. The Guardians have to split up in the hopes the situation will get stable enough they can find Jamie's classmates who stole the book before the Sandersons do.

Or hope they can run down the clock until dawn, when they'll disappear in the light of day.

OOC DETAILS
❅ Format: The mod will be using prose because multiple npcs may need to be written speaking but players can pick any format they want, including actionspam.

❅ NPCing: This part of the plot will have mod npcing. If you can, please try to tag at least about once a day to your respective threads so the mod can try to block out some semi-predictable time for npc tags.

❅ Status effects: There will be more dangerous witches here. Witches have magic and that means curses and other injuries the myth healing might not instantly fix. (Magical burns, etc.) You can play with this as you want. Spells and effects can either wear off in a short amount of time, wear off when the plot is over when day breaks, or need magical healing intervention at the Pole. Player choice.

❅ Long-term effects: Players who go with some kind of status effect for a character can optionally have long-term consequences from it if they like.

❅ Environment: Feel free to manipulate the environment in each setting location. You will often have whole setting areas to work with or even the whole open town. In some places, you absolutely can hotwire a car to run over a witch.

Comments

[nightmods]

A miracle can fix it. And after it's fixed, the air fills with static. Lightning starts to strike nearby, very close to him. Angry.

Angry that the book has been repaired. The screams over the air get louder, more full of rage.

The longer he holds it in his hands the closer the lightning will come to striking him.

[oldbookshop]

Ah.

Straightforward warning, that. Warning being the operative word, a point of interest. Because it would have, Aziraphale wagers, been just as easy not to bother with warning strikes in the first place. Try to do away with him outright.

And because it means they're already watching.

He sets the book back down, lifting his now-empty hands obligingly.

"Hello," he says after a brief hesitation, because god forbid he ever open with anything else. "Um. You're well within your rights, really. I'd be cross if someone came into my shop and started moving the furniture. Terribly sorry."

There's a chance he's not quite far enough in to merit a proper answer, of course, but all the better to establish outright that he's more interested in talking than anything else.

[nightmods]

The column of green fire can be seen swirling around a gnarled tree through the gaps in the trees ahead.

The lightning strikes the book but...not him. It'll send his hair up on end and maybe cause some static zaps but he won't be hurt.

She has been told a few things about who might come for her by three women who said they were like her.

But she'd also not really expected a timid hello and a "terribly sorry" out of whoever was coming to stop her. So after the book has been burned to dust, the lightning doesn't strike again near him.

Instead, an unearthly voice calls out to him, seemingly echoing from everywhere.

It's a little girl's voice. Not the voice of a cackling adult witch.

"I'm tired of listening to that stupid bedtime story." There is a sudden sensation of movement, of something invisible moving in close and he hears the voice again right next to his head, whispering, "I don't want to go to sleep. And you can't make me."

It's meant to spook him, to rattle him.

The voice retreats.

"You're not welcome here. Go. Away."

[oldbookshop]

The real reason Aziraphale was suited for this mission comes out: there's very little change to how his hair looks pre- and post- lightning.

He rubs his thumb against the ends of his fingers, feeling out the prickle of static. Turns sharply towards the voice that sounds near him, startled, only to find nothing.

She sounds young. Terribly young. It sets something aching in his chest. (How terribly, he wonders, must she be hurting to have gotten to this? If he thinks about Crowley for more than one reason in this moment, well, that's his business.)

"Oh. Oh, I'm afraid I really do need to talk to you, though. About the lightning. I gave my word that I would." In hindsight, it makes sense that there would be more to this particular hazard than first glance would imply. Not knowing the context is unfortunate, though. "So perhaps we could... have a conversation? No bedtime stories involved."

He chances another few steps forward.

[nightmods]

"I don't want to talk to you."

And yet she hadn't struck him down. And yet, her lightning hasn't hit the other Guardians, either.

"The other witches already told me about you. They said you're trying to hurt them just like the people that took me away from my mommy and hurt me."

[oldbookshop]

Ah. Lucky thing he doesn't strictly need his heart to live; he's not certain there's much rallying from that.

Always hurts to hear something like that.

"I am sorry that people hurt you," Aziraphale responds, tone gentling out entirely. First things first, as that goes.

"Have the other witches..." Oh, how to ask delicately. She's a child. "Have they told you what they're planning to do here? Why we're trying to stop them?"

[nightmods]

"You're not really sorry or else you wouldn't be trying to stop me. They told me they're just trying to exist and you're trying to get them."

She adds, "Why would you need any other reason? The only reason the people that hurt me needed was that they were were afraid of me, even though I didn't do anything wrong. They were monsters."

All of a sudden thorny briars and jagged wooden branches start pushing out of the ground behind Aziraphale, driving him closer towards the clearing around the magically burning tree. He can try to miracle them away but the problem is she can just keep magic-ing them in place.

She is clearly rearing for a direct confrontation.

"Well now I get to be the monster."

[oldbookshop]

Being very suddenly herded towards the clearing is, on balance, less frightening for him than it is startling and maybe a tiny bit rude. Spilled milk, he supposes. It's probably better for her to push him into this area than for him to have walked in uninvited, isn't it?

I get to be the monster, yet she hasn't simply struck him down and been done with it. Hasn't struck down any of the Guardians. Not kind, he thinks, not nice, not good, and yet. It really is a bit familiar.

Aziraphale straightens his coat. Tugs at the well-worn hem of his waistcoat, largely for the grounding comfort of the familiar fabric. Tries and fails to turn his expression from sympathetic to neutral.

"We were asked here to protect the children of this town from witches looking to steal them away and do them harm. I've seen too much firsthand to discount it entirely by now, I'm afraid. Although I suppose there may be exceptions."

This girl. Some others, perhaps, unlikely as it may be, holding back, leaving well enough alone.

"But if I've frightened you so terribly already, well. Do what makes you feel safest, dear girl. If you're certain of where everyone stands."

Aziraphale spreads his arms a bit at his sides, fingers splayed, not quite a shrug. Never quite cared for fighting even under the most necessary of circumstances. He certainly isn't interested in doing it here and now.