logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: LIGHT UP THE NIGHT

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: november 5-7.
content: use that bonfire!
warnings: n/a. please cw tags appropriately.

maybe we can bring back the light

Shortly after Robin's network post, a magnificent display of fireworks will start to launch from the lighthouse! They're odd-looking, though, given that they glow but don't cast light. But still cool to watch! The best place to view the show is at the beach, but some of the bigger explosions can be seen just over the treetops from town, and they can certainly be heard from all over Beacon. Exciting! Maybe! Robin sure thinks so! The fireworks will continue for a couple of hours before a very colorful grand finale, after which the lighthouse beam will shine red again for the duration of the event.

Meanwhile, back in town, Rastus has set up a magnificent display of his own. Torches are set up in a wide circle around the bonfire (which looks a bit less bright, given how many torches he's pulled from it), ready for the taking. You don't even have to talk to him first! He's lingering nearby, though, and... has looked more excited about things in the past. This is gonna be a bookkeeping nightmare, he can tell.

In any case, the torches are free for the taking, but do remember to report any torch movement to the event header on the item requests page. Don't let Rastus's fears become reality!

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It's not particularly admirable, if you do it less out of loyalty and more out of fear. The Soldier carefully plucks ashes from the back of its hand so that nothing falls to the church floor, using the action as a means of keeping its hands steady and head focused.

Because this is surprisingly hard to think about. Its voice comes out halting and uncomfortable. "I. Did." Briefly. So briefly that the whole thing is painfully fuzzy in their head. "I don't. Remember why. And as soon as I stopped hitting him, I died." Really bad timing, that.

He lifts his eyebrows in surprise. So there was someone in there, even then, who was able to resist that programming he spoke of earlier. It confirms for him that continuing to talk to him as an individual and an equal might some day pay off in Soldat realizing he's more than just a soldier. Even if he was created, and given a body laced with metal, he's a person.

"Maybe it'll come back to you," he suggest. "Maybe not. Doesn't matter now, I guess. But it proves something. You're not limited to your programming."

The brief look the Soldier shoots him is somewhere between startled, nervous, and weary, before looking away again. There's a tiny part of it that can acknowledge that-- after the reaction to the fireworks, after the hallucinations, after having actual friends and finding actual memories from Before-- but talking about it makes it want to huddle away and deny everything, as if personhood somehow leap out from a corner if it lets down its guard.

"Give me your bag for the ashes," it says after a probably-awkward pause, rather than addressing the statement directly. Diffuse and avoid, and that might head off more panic. "I don't want to drop these."

A changer of topics himself, he doesn't question it - whether it's truly a change, or a delay. The alarm on his face is evident. But Rosinante is patient and understanding, and doesn't hesitate to retrieve the bag from his pocket, shake it a little so it holds open, and then passes it over.

Should he say something? Nah. Silence is comforting. When Soldat is ready to talk - if he's ready to talk - he'll be allowed to break the silence himself.

How did the Soldier wind up with so many patient and understanding people in their life. Honestly. This continuing wealth of social connections that only push gently but still don't let them get away with too much hiding from the truth.

This subject is impossible to talk about. Not without rattling that big, ugly mental fence the Soldier has up around things they're not capable of dealing with yet. But it doesn't want Rosinante to leave, either... or think they don't appreciate his presence and insight. And there are still flashes of light coming through the church's windows.

So the Soldier dusts the last of the cigarette remains into Rosinante's bag, and offers something different. "I do have a few memories. From Before HYDRA. Not many, but. A few. Before I died, I didn't think there was a time Before HYDRA."

"Thought you said they created you."

That word can mean a fair number of things, but given the level of technology involved in that arm, he had actually expected he meant it literally. Interesting, then, that that seems to be not quite the case.

"What do you remember?"

"Made me," the Soldier reiterates, a bit hoarsely, looking down at their hands. "Not the same. Though I thought it was the same at first." When all you know is one situation and literally have no other memories, it's an easy thing to believe. Now that they know better, it's taken on a different meaning in its brain. "Then those corpse flower things came, and the smell brought back memories. From a war. When I had two hands, and fought against HYDRA instead of for them."

It's an interesting distinction, but all right. Made, or perhaps remade. Re-trained after being broken. Horrifying stuff.

"I think I understand," he says, solemn. As much love as he has for humanity, he knows people are capable of true darkness sometimes, for the sake of greed and power. Selfishness. But that's why, even when young, he chose to take up arms and fight.

"I'm glad you're free from them now." Even though it means having died - for the afterlife could have been much less hospitable.

Funny how some people you'd ask wouldn't even say they were even properly free. Still taking orders and designating handlers, still refusing a name, still not a person. The Soldier can't think of anything else to do but say, "Me, too." Which is true. Even if they're still not a person, it's better here. They'd never really wanted to be dead-- they're pretty sure, anyway-- but now that they are, it's not so bad.

(Maybe should've done that a long time ago. Maybe. Might not have brought us here at any other time. Not like we can change it, now. No.)

The light show seems to have stopped, though, so maybe that's all they need to say about it. Feeling steadier, if more sad, the Soldier pushes up to its feet. "Thanks for the cigarette, Rosinante. And the silence. It helped."

"Any time." For both favors. He nods, and stands to leave as well, though he'll let Soldat head out first.

Sure, he missed a lot of the fireworks, but it's not a big deal. Better than anyone huddling in here alone.

EVENT LOG: LIGHT UP THE NIGHT

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