logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: GRAVES

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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[ Eventually, someone does tell Wash that his efforts are pointless, and although he's extremely displeased he's forced to accept there's not much he can do about it. So yes, now he has two unattended graves free for the offering. He hates absolutely everything about this. Way to start off with a bang, Beacon, he hopes you're happy with yourself.

He does succumb to the urge to offer things to a few other graves over the course of the rest of the week, but fights it as best he can. More because it's such an invasion of privacy than that he's trying to protect himself, really. Anyone who runs into him while the graves are still around will find him sullen and quiet, only barely acknowledging anyone else's presence. It's not entirely clear whether he needs company or to be left alone, but either way he doesn't want to talk about it. Folks are free to try, or to call him out on whether or not what they saw was in fact his death, or just ask what the fuck was up with the shapeshifting genocidal robots... but for the most part Wash won't be initiating conversations.

Stubborn as ever, he runs his training drills around town and keeps to a schedule as best he can, choking down meals in the tavern at regular intervals. You can't have a breakdown if you refuse to acknowledge anything's wrong, right?

Yeah, let's see how that goes for him. ]

[Once it looks like Wash has finished guarding his grave quite so actively, Rosinante visits it. He's curious - Wash seems like a nice fellow, if a little quiet. Maybe like himself, come to think of it. But that armor is so unusual, so unlike what he knows.

A cup of whiskey on the marker, then, like he's left several others here. Alcohol is always a wanted gift for the dead. The scene that unfolds is nearly incomprehensible to him with how foreign it is, but he recognizes Kyna. So they knew each other before this, then? She was the one who couldn't create fire quite right, that first day. They died together. It must be some small blessing they've both arrived here together.

It's later, on reflection, that he realizes he's heard a description matching those robots before. Nate had told him about them - the shapeshifting creatures with their terrible weapons, fighting a war against people trapped by the gods who had fed on emotions. That's what that was, wasn't it?

He catches Wash in the tavern late one evening. The man looks like he's just come back from a run, and looks about to run off again, also. Nobody really wants to hang out and talk to anyone this week, and Rosinante himself is no exception. Irritable from having to ration the few cigarettes Gene could spare, angry at this place for bringing that pain back when it was already so raw, he almost just walks on by. But this place still aches to be understood, and if Wash doesn't want to talk, he can always just leave. He nods as he approaches, then sets a plate of fries on the table between them, willing to split them if it eases conversation.]

Wash. Are you managing all right, with all this madness going on?

[ Wash is desperately trying to stick to some sort of routine, now that he's given up guarding his grave -- there's no point, anyway, right? He can't guard them both, and although Gene did kindly offer to mind the second one, he doesn't intend to take him up on that offer. It's too much to ask. He is struggling, though, with the knowledge that people are definitely seeing and that he's succumbed a few times himself, spying on others who probably don't want their deaths seen either.

It isn't any easier just because he's dealt with such invasions of privacy before, to know there's not a damn thing he can do. Rather it just makes him feel more helpless, so here he sits, sulking.

When someone sets a plate down in front of him he glances up -- and up, and up -- and sees with visible surprise that it's Rosinante. They haven't spoken much since that first night, but he'd seemed kind and rational. Exactly the kind of person who doesn't deserve this nonsense, and Wash had been upset to realize after the fact that he was the one Five mentioned as dying on the rocks. He should have followed up before now, and there's a pang of guilt for that too. He's been too wrapped up in his own misery.

Maybe he can do better right now. Wash gestures to the seat across from him for Rosinante to sit, if he wants. ]

About as well as I ever do with this kind of thing.

[ Which actually means "not well" but Rosi can draw his own conclusions. ]

Can't really fight it, as much as we might want to. How are you dealing?

[Sounds like enough of an opening to stick around for. He scoots the chair to the side in order to sit on the floor, for otherwise he's had trouble fitting in these seats and keeping his knees from banging the underside of the table.]

I'm managing. [And he'd elaborate, but -]

With "this kind of thing," you mean you've experienced something like this before?

[Nate had only mentioned that those gods fed off their emotions. What like seeing one's own death and having others see it as well could Wash be referring to?]

[ Seriously, Rosi, what did they feed you to get you so tall? Wash's lips quirk up a little, not quite a full smile but it's something. ]

We need to get you a floor cushion. And... yeah. I was stuck somewhere else, between home and here, and there were beings that played with us a lot like this. Mind games to make us feel specific emotions, that they fed off.

[ He didn't mention Hadriel to Rosi before, and has no idea that Nate did -- or that the tall man has connected the two of them. Soon enough. ]

I'm not saying that the lighthouse keeper is up there feeding off our misery or anything, but this sure feels familiar.

I talked to Nate first day I was here and he mentioned something like that too. People stuck in a cave, with gods feeding off emotions. And something about a war against shapeshifting robots. You were there too?

[Yes, clearly he was. But, one step at a time, to let Wash elaborate at his own speed. It's horrifying anyway, the whole idea of being stolen and kept as some kind of emotional battery against one's will. If this is the same situation, Rosinante is not going to take it well.]

[ Oh. Wash blinks, then nods. At least it makes the conversation easier. ]

That was Hadriel, yeah, and it's not just me and Nate. There's Kyna, too, if you've run into her... we're all from different worlds but met there.

[ And in his and Kyna's cases, died there too. Wash's jaw works briefly, then he seems to shake something off to be able to continue the conversation. ]

It was a little more symbiotic than this since they were also keeping us fed and protected, but the shapeshifting robots called them parasites and that never felt entirely wrong, either. They'd pull this shit. Showing us each other's dreams or memories, our worst fears... it was always something. You get used to it, in a way... like you'd come to recognize it when something was going on but it never really got easier to deal with, if that makes sense. Not for me, anyway. I'd always want to try and fight it, and most of the time you just couldn't.

[He absorbs the information as he chews on one of the fries he'd brought over. They mostly help keep his mouth and hands occupied, even if they do little for his mind, but the absence of nicotine has to be fought one way or another and he's been turning to alcohol more frequently than he'd like.]

I met Kyna not long before I met you. She was struggling to make fire.

[Or, well, she made it, but it didn't make any light. He's used to that now. It was completely bizarre in those first few hours. It still doesn't make any real sense either, of course.]

So, if this is the same sort of thing... They could make anything happen. Loves and fears and everything in between. How long were you there?

[ Collecting 'em all, huh Rosi? Wash nods at the comment about her fire. ]

Some of her magic isn't working like it usually does here, just like some of my tech isn't. It seems like we can't affect the darkness.

[ Wash doesn't understand how that works, but it's definitely what's happening. They're going to have to figure out the rules of this place over time, though, since Winters and Will either don't know everything and/or are less than forthcoming. ]

If it's the same, yeah, there really weren't any limits. I was there 613 days... Nate and Kyna were both there before I showed up.

[Six hundred thirteen makes for too long in a state of such emotional torture. Wash counted the days exactly and still remembers the number, which indicates both how difficult it must have been but also how precise he must be as a person. He thinks back to that armor he showed up in that first day. The precision is, perhaps, military - the armor certainly looked it, but mercenaries and pirates often scavenge pieces for themselves, after all.]

A strange coincidence that three people would come here after experiencing a place like that together. What were you up to before that? I never got a chance to ask. The armor you were wearing, it's unlike anything I'm familiar with. Same with your lantern.

[ Wash shrugs -- he doesn't think it's much of a coincidence. ]

There are a handful of other people with friends from their home worlds. The only difference with us is we were kidnapped to another plane of existence before this. Seems more like bad luck than anything else... I was never able to establish a patten with who the Door brought to Hadriel, and there doesn't seem to be one in this place either. No obvious reason that we wound up here.

[ Which is infuriating, honestly. But sometimes there just isn't a good reason why things happen like they do. He's been counting himself lucky that Beacon claimed him and Kyna together, because if they have to be dead and here at least they're not alone. As for his armor? He figured that question was coming eventually, Rosi was one of the few people to see it and not ask straight away. ]

I was a marine back home, my armor is designed for operations in deep space. But before I got pulled to Hadriel I was fighting a war on an abandoned colony we'd been shipwrecked on... this one corporation wanted the planet for its resources and knew the only way it could get them was to kill off the whole colony, one way or another. People are monsters.

[True, he's met some of the others who came here together. Maybe it's easier if several people die at once who have some sort of connection to each other. However this thing operates, maybe that's simpler than grabbing lots of different people. Who knows.

Wash continues on, though, and Rosinante's eyes widen a little with interest, then he chuckles, almost embarrassed. Another Marine! Even if they're from different worlds, even if he travels the sea while Wash travels space. It's that common ground that makes them all brothers in arms across the vast universe. Against so many men who are so many flavors of monsters.]

I should have asked sooner, my apologies. I'm with the Marines as well back home. I don't fight in space and don't have armor like that, though. Our warships travel on water only.

[Never mind his rank, he'll leave it at that. They've been speaking as equals here so far, they're equals now. He's not even sure he should really qualify as a Marine anymore, but it's been his identity, his life, ever since childhood. Hard to give that up, and already here he's met enough other military members for it to serve him well as a sort of badge of honor. As it should be.]

[ It seems people are coping in their own ways. Healthy or not, it was easy to see people were not happy. Especially, this man who looked like he was even struggling to eat. Elden isn't sure if they're upset or not but one thing is clear, this guy did seem bothered.

The boy steps over, and slides a glass of water in front of them, canting his head toward them. ]

Do you want to talk about it? [ He says it bluntly, but he figures it's best to speak his mind here. Even if some people have tried to write him off as "just a kid" he would still offer what help he could give. Even if it was just an ear.]

Edited 2019-07-20 18:14 (UTC)

[ Ohhhh no, he's definitely not happy. Wash is only trying to eat at all because he knows he has to keep some kind of a routine or he spirals, and that's not something he can afford to let happen ever again. So food at regular intervals, sleep on a schedule as much as he can manage, and sticking to his training regiment even if it's completely useless in death. Better to not need it then regret he didn't keep it up.

He doesn't expect company, though, at least not from a complete stranger, and that accounts for most of the surprise in his expression. The rest is, yes, due to the fact that it's a teenager, but death doesn't care about such things unfortunately. It's just sadder. ]

No. I want it to be over already, so the damage stops spreading.

[ It comes out a little clipped, awkward, like he doesn't know how to address this without appearing vulnerable to a stranger. God, Wash, learn to people. But it's then that it occurs to him maybe this kid is approaching him not just out of random concern for his mood, but because he saw and figured it out... it's not rocket science to connect the dots between him and Kyna. His expression softens a bit, but also turns kind of wary. ]

...did you...?

No.

[ He answers immediately before the question is finished. He looks at the other with a bit of a sad expression of his own, but, Elden just looks at other with no trace of recognition. Considering he hadn't been told to leave yet, Elden just grabbed the seat across from them, pulling it out and sitting down.

His gaze shifts towards the window, lips knit together as he stares off in contemplation of the graves outside.]

But, it's obvious what's wrong. People seeing how you died, you not getting a say in who knows or how they know. People experiencing exactly how you felt....it's like an invasion of privacy. [ Really, it's the best way he can think to describe it. He lets out another exhale before looking back to the man, giving something of a shrug.]

So, I figured I'd come ask. Least this way you don't have to give context on what happened, just...you know, vent about why it's upsetting.

Edited 2019-07-25 22:47 (UTC)

[ The stranger claims the seat across from him and explains his take on the situation, and Wash finds himself nodding along. It's a little more complex than that for him, because it's not just his privacy being invaded, but he doesn't want to explain that part and risk this kid -- or someone else nearby -- getting curious.

He doesn't particularly want to vent, either, because the most upsetting part is definitely the emotions he knows are winding up experienced. His guilt, his grief, his terror, none of it for himself. It's intensely personal and no one's business. Not even this kid's. Like he just said, all he wants is for it to be over to minimize the damage. But they have no control over that, and this guy wants to help so... he'll try to be a little more polite for someone who obviously means well. Or maybe just needs to vent themselves? ]

Sounds like you've got the right idea already. [ He shrugs, eyes cutting away. ] I should be used to this kind of thing, it happened all the time the last place I was.

[ Elden's brow perks a bit out of curiosity when he hears the other say that. What did they mean by that? Was this another one of those people who were from a place and ended up in another place before coming here? Well, no harm in asking; ]

I hope you don't mean waking up from being dead in some spooky afterlife. That would be really bad to have to go through the same thing all over again.

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EVENT LOG: GRAVES

iii; unhappy acceptance (July 15-19)

tavern

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