EVENT LOG: GRAVES

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

back from vacation, good to backtag??

[facelessgirl]

[ She recognizes those same strange clothes, of course, but it is the serious expression on his face that she remembers even better. At least she knows that he hasn't come here to make trouble, with anyone, but certainly not with her. She's relieved. Arya isn't much for keeping the law herself (or even keeping to the laws, depending on if she sees fit to break them), but she does not like to be bothered.

She frowns her little frown of interest when he reaches out to her though, and Arya moves forward enough that when she takes the coin, she's no longer standing directly on her grave. In that way, Javert is spared the vision of her death. She turns the coin over in her hand, studying it. ]

I have never seen one like this before. [ And spending years in Braavos, she had seen quite a lot. ] What realm is this from?

absolutely!

[policier]

France.

( It's nice to finally have someone ask him where he's from, and not when. It puts them on even footing, in a way, being that they don't know anything about each other or the places that they come from. )

That's the name of the country. But the world I am from is Earth, like most here.

( Most of the people he's met, he should say. He inclines his head a little. )

Where are you from?

[facelessgirl]

France.

[ She repeats the word seriously, committing it to memory, even though it is strange to her. Her frown does not disappear from her face when Javert continues, though. ]

Earth? [ His world. Is that like the realms that Arya knows? Is he from some place off her maps, some place like the mysterious ones she was seeking to find when she sailed off into the west? In a way, she now supposes, she has found a new realm. It only took her own death to do so. ] I am from Westeros. It is... somewhat like it is here. Certain things are different. Mainly the people.

[ But given the way he's talking, he's experiencing the same thing. ]

Do they have anything like this in your world? [ She takes out her strange device to show it to him. She handles it carefully, like it's some odd relic she hasn't quite figured out. ]

[policier]

Not in my time, no.

( And he doesn't understand it anymore than she does. If anything, he hates having to use it. Typing takes forever, he never knows what button to press, and even when he does, sometimes he hits the wrong one. It's annoying, so Javert hardly ever uses it. )

We still send letters. And read our books by candlelight, as we do here.

( He looks up at the girl's shrine, at the large direwolf statue and nods. )

That's your wolf, I take it?