In the Night Moderators (
inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-07-12 01:00 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- billy russo (laws),
- coraline li (jejune),
- daylight vis lornlit (melly),
- dick grayson (jin),
- hanzo hasashi (abel),
- irwin wade (lauren),
- javert (rachel),
- jo harvelle (dee),
- jon snow (rachel),
- kuai liang (sydney),
- m.k. (shira),
- melisandre (mina),
- nathan drake (alex),
- number five (z),
- peter parker (laura),
- rafe adler (sammo),
- raylan givens (bobby),
- riku (dubsey),
- rosinante donquixote (lauren),
- shadow moon (kas),
- will ingram (leu),
- zihuan cao pi (gemini)
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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no subject
Um... Can I ask you something else?
no subject
Yeah, go on.
( he thinks he can guess what it might be, but oddly there ain't no how-to-do about it. no fear, no dread, no grim determination. it's like his emotions surrounding the topic have been cauterized. )
no subject
[She says it like a disclaimer, shifting where she sits to cross her legs underneath her. Gene strikes her as an open book, sweet and accommodating, but she's not sure he has any idea how long the vision was. She has enough friends with secrets to know that some things are just too private, but she also trusts that he won't get upset.]
So... That guy with you. The one who walked through the wall? Who was he?
no subject
aveline was the last person he told about reggie. an' that'd been. utilitarian. strictly business. she wanted to know how it was he happened to possess information that only a dead soe agent should'a known. she'd asked the right questions an' boxed him in an' anyway, he ain't one to lie. so he'd told her, an' her first thought was for how she could use him to win the war, an' he'd consented to it because the sooner it's over, the less likely it is that his baby brother is gonna be able to sign up an' come over to europe an' die in the fuckin' mud like so many other boys.
but reggie.
reggie died on a wednesday. in vichy france, beneath a sun so hot he'd joked first about dyin' of thirst before schäfer shot him. he'd spent eleven days bein' tortured before that, an' then left for dead in a field. an' gene ain't had a minute, not one goddamn minute in this war to grieve him. how could he? he weren't supposed to even know he was dead. there's a hot pressure in the back of his throat an' behind his eyes and he has to breathe through the worst of it before he goes an' breaks down.
all because she asks, when she doesn't have to. somethin' comes down inside him, some dam or stopgap, and when he draws a breath it's half a shudder besides. )
That, ah. ( lord, his voice is rough. he clears his throat an' tries again. ) Reggie Holiday. My best friend.
no subject
[She says it quietly, and her first instinct is to reach for his hands again, because she's so much better at comforting through touch than words. He needs space, though, so she holds back, tangling her fingers together in her lap instead.]
I'm sorry. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it.
no subject
( he'd never do her the disrespect of makin' her think this is somethin' on her. he'd tell her near about anything if she asked. he just. doesn't know where to start, an' the simple fact that she's askin' about reggie more than the fact that gene saw him so is. it's tellin'. about the sorta person she is, what it is she reaches for in dark times. human connection is everything to her — but before this conversation it'd been an educated guess an' not an absolute. now he knows.
she'd wanted to touch him, he saw that much. but she's a woman who understands that sometimes you have to put what a person wants over what you want for them, and she'd acted on that. so he reaches out and touches her wrist, just a little point of contact to let her know it's all right. then he takes a bracing breath. talkin' about the man ain't a hardship, it's a goddamn privilege. )
I told you some, 'bout Brooklyn, yeah? Well, I moved there when I was fourteen. Big change, you know. Goin' from a city with less than a thousand souls to a place like that all on your own. Reggie, ah... he took me in, in a way. He was a couple years older. Taught me how to dance an' manage in a place that was as foreign to me as the moon. Sometimes we'd just... go out and ride the trolleys until the sun came up. I don't know why he picked me, Kyna. Ain't never met a man like him, before or since. All eyes came to him when he walked into a room, it was like... lookin' at the sun.
( but he never made gene feel small. or any manner of inadequate, despite the fact that his folks were both doctors an' he had more education in his little finger than gene'd had in the whole of his life. )
When the war kicked off, he went to Europe. He'd been born there, see, an' he joined the 'Special Operations Executive' as a spy against the Axis. An' on account'a my seein' the dead ( he says that deliberately. calm. ) he came to me when he died. He could'a passed on, you know? But he stayed. I lost track'a how many ambushes he foiled an' how many lives he saved just by tellin' me German troop movements an' spyin' on their officers. I was in Love Company, but a lotta folks nicknamed us Lucky on account'a how few casualties we took.
( comparatively. some paratrooper units clocked in at 96 percent casualty rates durin' big operations like overlord. an' lordy, did they lose men in italy. )
no subject
He stayed behind on purpose to help you? Do you know... I mean, did he ever say what it was like?
no subject
All's I know is that it wasn't this. But, ah. Most ghosts... they just say it's lonely.
no subject
[She draws her knees up to her chest.]
Do you know anyone else where you're from who can see ghosts?
no subject
but aveline's aim had been endin' the war. he'd known what he was gettin' into. kyna ain't got no stakes in the knowin', an' besides. he ain't been a man of her acquaintance long, but he trusts her.
the conflict's still evident in him, though. the set to his shoulders, the line of his jaw. the way his hands work themselves closed, an' then back open again. )
All the men in my family line can. Goin' back as many generations as you please. Ain't a one of us it's missed.
no subject
[And she can tell he's conflicted. This is one of those delicate secrets that all of her friends seem to have, so, gently, she tries to make him feel a little more relaxed.]
That happens a lot where I'm from. Not seeing ghosts, specifically, but... My best friend back home was just kind of born to magic, you know? I've always taught myself, but he just gets it, like breathing. I think it's always run in his family.
no subject
Guess it stands to reason. We inherit a lot, don't we?
( his tone makes it rhetorical, an' about more than just the color of your skin or hair or eyes, how tall you are or how smart. there's a legacy to be inherited just as much. )
no subject
But that isn't the point. The point is Gene, and so she shifts her focus to him.]
You keep talking about Reggie like he's... You said like looking at the sun, right? And I bet he was pretty amazing, but all those people you two saved...
[She nudges his leg with her foot gently.]
That was you too, you know. Maybe even more you.
no subject
gently, )
I appreciate you sayin' so, Kyna. I do, but that ain't a reassurance I need.
no subject
Sorry, I didn't mean... I wasn't trying to, um...
[She falters, struggling to gather her words again. It isn't unusual for her to screw up like this, even though she's gotten better at this sort of thing.]
I didn't mean to be an asshole. I just don't want you to... Sell yourself short, I guess?
[Does that make sense? She hopes it makes sense.]
no subject
( he puts his hand atop hers and squeezes gently. )
You weren't bein' an asshole. I'd tell you plain if that's how I took it. It's just, part of what soldierin' means to me, an' it ain't your fault for not knowin'.
( he might call it survivor's guilt if he had cause to know the term. an' it is, really. you live when your buddy dies. someone gets shot or shelled or throws themselves on a goddamn grenade — )
But I know what I did in the war, an' I'm at peace with the differences I made. I don't need to take more credit than's my due.
no subject
[She turns her hand under his and laces their fingers together. She still thinks maybe he's going easy on her, but she'll take it. Maybe he won't mind if she keeps being nosy about Reggie, instead.]
How did you and Reggie meet?
no subject
Ah, I apprenticed under a fella named Ezra, learnin' carpentry in New York. Reggie's Ma'd ordered some furniture be made. She was a doctor, an' colored besides so she'd been turned away at a few other places, but Ezra weren't about that. He took on her order. Reggie came to pick everything up when it was finished, an' the two of us got to talkin'. Soon as he found out I didn't know a soul besides Ezra in Brooklyn, he wanted to take me out on the town. We'd hang out at Cafe Society an' listen to the musicians there an' drink Coke an' smoke. Lord, we saw so many folks — Miss Ella Fitzgerald, John Kirby an' his sextet... Hell, Buck Clayton half a dozen times.
( at the time, it'd been like steppin' into a new world of wonder and beauty. there was a lotta ugliness to be had too — cafe society was the first an' probably still the only club in new york that weren't segregated by race, an' more than once they took shit for their acquaintance on the street. but reggie had this way about him, an' a manner of turnin' enemies to friends without them scarce realizin' it was happenin' on account'a him bein' hell an' gone smarter than most of them. )
His folks died in a car accident in '40, an' he an' I moved back to Agathine a spell while their estate got sorted out. Once it was settled, he went to Britain to see his grandparents an' I guess somewhere in there he got tangled up in the War. He never talked about it much, an' he died in '42. Few days before I shipped out on our first operation in Italy.
no subject
Uh... So... People don't really say...
[She clears her throat awkwardly.]
They don't say colored anymore. It's kind of...
[Come on, Kyna. Pick a good word.]
...insensitive?
no subject
There a better word?
( one he can use in its place, at least. )
no subject
[She wrinkles her nose.]
Like black, or Asian, or... you know.
[Wow, this racial politics lesson sure is going great.]
no subject
( because lordy, that'd be right up there with curin' polio. )
no subject
Oh, yeah. There was a whole movement and everything. Segregation isn't a thing anymore.
no subject
Army too?
( what a world. he knows the future'll be plagued by much of the same problems as the past. human nature is immutable. but. it's the little things like this that're givin' him hope. )
no subject
Yeah. There are even girls in the Army now. With like, guns and shit.
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