Once upon a time, in a land not so far away...
You wake to the feeling of being watched. Of a set of unfamiliar eyes, of warm breath on the back of your neck. A jolt back to the land of the living, and it's gone. No matter how quick you are, how sneaky, the source of the disruption has long since disappeared, so you have no choice but to try and ignore it. To continue on with your day and try to set that moment of strangeness aside.
You eat, drink, speak with others. Perhaps you explore a little. Whatever it is you choose to do for the day, that feeling from the morning won't return. And by the time the sun sets and the moon glows brightly above, you've likely set those moments of strangeness aside. It's not like it's anything new, after all.
It's the same again for the next few days. No better, no worse. Something best ignored, right?
A speck of blood on the doorframe. That wasn't there before, was it?
A snap of twigs in the distance. A crunch of leaves.
Claw marks gouged deeply into the door.
Into the wall above your bed.
Scraps of red fabric, turned darker with blood. Pieces of fur. Of flesh.
Do you run and hide? Do you fight? Whatever you choose, it's definitely time to make sure your body parts aren't scattered next...
...what a horribly big mouth you have.
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Since first waking up on the island, characters have been stuck with that feeling of being watched. It isn't a constant. Isn't more than a few seconds at a time, dotted throughout the day. Investigation has never turned up much, and there's never been any sightings of the cause of it all.
Until now.
Throughout the first half of the week, characters will find themselves suffering from that feeling of being watched on a far more constant basis. Rather than it being a one-off, few seconds occurrence each day, that feeling will last for minutes at a time, and on multiple occasions.
However, it isn't until the fifth day that they'll start stumbling across physical signs of their monitoring. There are claw marks on doors. Spots of blood on the paths outside. A crack of twigs in the forests, or the imprint of bloodied paws in the snow.
Ten days in and those signs start finding their way indoors. Wet footprints, tinged with red. Claw marks in the walls, the floor. Torn sheets and the smell of wet...something. Whatever it is that's been watching you, its finally decided to come and say hello.
Two weeks in and characters will begin to have sightings of the creature, its fur dark and its eyes a glowing yellow. At times it looks like a wolf, prowling in the distance. At other times, it's walking on its hind legs, almost human were it not for the muzzle full of gleaming sharp teeth. Get too close, and it slips away like a shadow, gone between one blink and the next. It decides when to reach out to characters, not the other way round.
It's after characters finally get a good look at the creature that it starts leaving...gifts. Characters will start to find familiar items from their home worlds amidst the mess. The remains of a childhood pet, perhaps. Photographs of loved ones, faces torn almost beyond recognition. It's only once it delivers its final gift that the creature retreats to the trees again: a blood-splattered item of clothing that clearly belongs to the person the character misses the most at the time, alive or dead.
no subject
though weirder than that--]
They're not my dad. Neither of them! I haven't even met the wizard yet, and Mr. Stark is...uh. I'm his intern. [well, it's more like tony is his mentor-slash-advisor-slash-hero. but that's probably a little more than he wants to let on right now. sticking with "not my dad" is probably easiest.]
I haven't forgotten anything though. I was still holding on to the outside of the donut ship before I came here. [okay, so technically he was falling off of it. but he's not going to admit that!]
no subject
[ he lets out a breath, wondering if this isn't thanos somehow. he had screwed up reality all around him once, he scowls thinking about the bubbles coming out of his blasters. he'd failed her. she got taken because of him. ]
You came inside and we all met. At least, that's the way I remember it, dude. I don't really even know... what's real anymore.
no subject
No, I'm not a secretary. But yes, boys can be secretaries too. There's nothing wrong with that! And Mr. Stark isn't my dad. He's just been helping me train. He's like... He's just awesome.
[which may seem like a bit of an anti-climax, but it's no less true. out of all the avengers, tony is the only one whose seen him as something at least close to an equal. he may call him a kid, but it's not the same as when the other avengers have questioned his age in the past.]
I don't remember any of that. So, uh-- [he holds out a hand for a shake. because that's what adults do, right?] My name's Peter. And it's Spider-man, not bug boy.
no subject
[ huh. he looks at peter's hand, but then his expression brightens a few shades from his confused frown. ]
Woah, that's crazy! I'm Peter, too. Or Starlord.
[ he winks and shakes his hand once, firmly. ]
no subject
I'm gonna keep calling you Starlord though. [well, mr. starlord. but semantics.] It makes you sound like a superhero from space.
[okay, so technically that's exactly what starlord is. but this is also the first time he's actually met the man, so he can't help but make the observation. it's not like the guardians are as well known as the avengers, afterall.]