logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: GRAVES

EVENT LOG:
GRAVES

characters: everyone.
location: Bonfire Square.
date/time: July 12-19.
content: mysterious shrines appear and bring visions of death.
warnings: likely violence and potentially gore.

time to pay your respects.

It happens when no one is looking, when most of the town is asleep and the rest are inside. A makeshift cemetery has come to Beacon, taking up residence in the middle of Bonfire Square. Each monument, shrine, and altar is dedicated to someone who now resides here, a memorial of their previous life.

Some may be drawn by curiosity, others by fear, and some may simply have to pass through this strange graveyard to get to the Bonfire itself. Whenever a person gets near, the altars beckon with a mysterious urge— an urge to approach, and an urge to leave something behind. They will feel compelled to make offerings at the various shrines, but doing so has a curious effect; it causes one to experience the death of the person whose grave they've honored.

Whether you resist the compulsion or give in willingly (or something in between), you'll also have to wrestle with the fact that a grave exists for you. Will you let your death be known, or try your best to keep it secret? Destroying it sure won't work, as it will return— with a duplicate somewhere else in town.

However you choose to deal with this, one thing is hard to ignore— this a tangible reminder of your death, and the fact that it's probably permanent.

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( he just listens with a soft, rapt expression on his face. utterly engrossed.

nate ain't helpin' this crush none, that's for sure. )

Mm? Yeah, 'course I do. Church every Sunday, Nathan.

( lordy!! with a laugh, he gestures for the man to carry on with the tellin'. )

[ He lifts his hands in silent apology before continuing, as one doesn't like the assume the coursework provided to Catholics from other eras. People get funny about which stories to tell, come time for the homily. ]

So, Avery fancied himself a reflection of Dismas, liked the whole "penitent thief" angle. Basically made it the theological cornerstone of his operation, from the invitations he sent out in crosses with Saint Dismas on them, to the Latin he had stamped into the currency he minted. The paradise that Jesus referred to at Calvary would be Avery's city, Libertalia. The, uh- [ He doesn't pause in reaching for his sketchbook. ] Hodie mecum eris in paradiso.

[ Flipping through the pages he suddenly stops short, turning the book to Gene and pressing it into his hands. Sprawled across two pages is a cityscape, or the remains of one, a ruin from a bygone time trapped in plants and split stone, a small tower in the distance marked with Treasury? ]

He built that paradise. Recruited hundreds of people to settle and live there, had them store all their collective treasure in one bank, and then robbed them blind.

( well, that explains why nate hadn't been troubled by his story about a lost legionnaire. his mind drifts back to that picture, those city streets, an'... yeah, he can see the story unfoldin' as nate tells it. a paradise, true enough. it would'a seemed a haven, wouldn't it?

but one thing's the stickin' point in there. greed, he understands. may not like, may not ascribe to personally, but he gets it. human sins. but nate just said he took the biggest treasure haul of all time — surely, then, the man was set for life no matter how many cities he built? he wrinkles his nose a little, an' then just, )

The Hell for? He not have enough already?

( gene, abruptly not a fan of this avery fella, not one whit. )

[ The half-chuckle, half-sigh he emits is telling. Nate doesn't have a good answer, outside of guessing. He was spared a satisfying conclusion by virtue of his own death, and he doesn't know what they might have found in New Devon if they'd even gotten that far. ]

Pirates will be pirates.

[ Greedy, horrible people whose code only apply to those at sea, if at all. Nate lifts his shoulders in a shrug. ]

When we got to the treasury, it was empty. Some old manifests, some graffiti, but that was it. It looked like the settlers had organized a coup to try and get their wealth back, the courtyard was- it was a mess of bodies, barricades made of barrels and furniture, rebels and soldiers. When they found out their money was gone they defaced all the paintings of the pirate lords with the word "thief."

[ He pauses briefly, reaching for something else in his satchel and pulling out a thick gold coin about two inches wide. ]

This was all we found.

( there's a showmanship to nathan now. he steps inside a story an' inhabits it with the tellin', makin' it a livin, breathin' thing with a beatin' heart and a soul of its own. when he holds the coin out as the pièce de résistance, gene reaches out to take it for his own examination. seems a heavy thing to die for. an' it was dyin', wasn't it? because that's where the story ends.

gene flips the coin over his fingers, an' then passes it on back to nathan. )

Wish I could'a seen it. All that history — must'a been one Helluva sight.

It was.

[ Nate says with a wistful edge, something scratching at the back of his voice. He doesn't know yet if it's regret, and he hasn't tried to examine it too much. Like the ghosts that appear to Gene carrying the burden of unfinished business Nate feels the same longing, the pull for completion. It's different from the satisfaction he once sought when uncovering a city packed with ancient secrets. It's a kind of sadness.

He takes the coin, mouth pressed into a tight line as he rubs his thumb over the skull. Some paradise.

Just as quickly Nate tucks it away and recovers, flashing a smile. ]

Mountain real estate, beachfront views, the promise of freedom. What more could any aspiring liberty-seeker want?

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

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