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.

QUICKNAV
comms	\|	network • logs • memes • ooc
pages	\|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( he doesn't know the name, but he knows the military designation of marine corps. he's already learned his lesson about leavin' material objects, so instead he stops to say a prayer. eternal rest grant unto them, o Lord, and let eternal light shine down upon them. may this man one day find peace among his brothers an' sisters in arms and whatever family he calls his own.

the vision hits him as he makes the sign of the cross. an' panic, which ain't rightly a thing what often grips him, surges up. because he knows that girl, an' the armor he's wearin', an' that means this is.

lord. wash an' kyna.

it hurts all the more for the knowin', an' when the experience is done an' he's back in the world he goes to his knees, one hand outflung automatically to catch himself on the marker an' to keep from hittin' the dirt. he's breathin' hard, adrenaline surgin' hard, an' once he realizes what he's grippin' onto he lets it go and lets himself fall backwards, scrambles away from it with rather less dignity than what he normally comports himself with.

soldiers, an' medics beside have learned through a trial by fire that you can't stay still when there's clear an' present danger. his heart's beatin' so fast it's fit to break ribs, an' he gets back to his feet at a good clip. he always hated it. seein' the replacements come in an' get whittled away by the germans. he stopped makin' friends with the new fellas, on account of knowin' their numbers would be down by half in a month or two besides. but. he'd let his guard down — what harm could it be, now they're all dead an' in the same boat? he likes them in a soft, genuine way an' to see their end writ plain an' awful besides makes a ruin of him.

but he puts it away. he has to. an' he needs to get outta here before the compulsion takes hold an' he says or does somethin' else.

he's near back to the inn when he sees wash sittin' in front of a grave. even just seein' him is like a lance, an' gene feels guilty as all get-out for the fact that he stepped inside his life an' bore witness to somethin' that ought to have been personal an' private. )

I'm sorry.

( he don't quite blurt it out. but it ain't said with his usual composure, neither, an' he's still faintly breathless. what's he apologizing for, wash? it's anyone's guess, really, but yours'll probably be right on the money. )

[ Wash is leaning back against his headstone with his head bowed and eyes closed, but glances up at the sound of footsteps. Someone else he's going to have to warn to keep walking, he suspects, but is surprised to see it's Gene. There's just enough ambient light from the bonfire reaching them for Wash to be able to tell, and as he gets closer it becomes obvious that there's misery etched into his expression. Wash feels a stab of guilt, himself -- he hadn't realized what was going to happen when he'd pressed that bullet into the dirt in front of Gene's marker, of course, but it's still something he didn't have permission to see. To feel. ]

Gene?

[ There's really only one thing he could be apologizing for, in which case he should too. Of course, he's assuming that Gene would've made an offering either yesterday before Wash smashed his headstone, or early today before he realized it had popped back. ]

Hey, it's okay. I think we're probably even. I'm sorry, too. [ He lifts a hand, beckoning Gene over. ] Come keep me company? I'm just trying to keep anyone else from...

[ He can't finish the thought, is really stupidly upset at the fact that Gene saw, that he knows how Wash screwed up and exactly what he felt, but what's done is done and after twenty one months of this kind of bullshit in Hadriel? Wash isn't going to get mad at anyone for this kind of thing except the one responsible. Right now his resentment is directed entirely and possibly erroneously at the faceless lighthouse keeper. ]

...just. You can sit if you want.

( he sucks in a breath between his teeth, half a grimace, an' then he steps in closer and sinks down to the earth beside wash. he still feels sick, an' it ain't a matter of the dying (it ain't never bothered him, really, to experience mortality in that way) or anythin' like that, it's just. wash and kyna are good people.

not that once in the history of anythin' has that ever stopped death in its tracks.

he draws one leg up, braces his knee on it. lord, he thinks he might actually slap a man for a cigarette about now, but in lieu of one he's nervous and jittery, fingers tapping at nothin' in the air. he ought to see about gum at the general store. )

I can go sit at the other one, if'n you want. I don't mind it.

( it's personal, an' private besides, an' gene'd rather safeguard someone else over himself. his death was easy. probably the least of all the ones here, an' the only thing in it is a secret that, the more he thinks on, the less he thinks he really needs to keep in the afterlife anyhow. )

[ Hmm, it looks like that nicotine withdrawal is setting in, huh Gene? Wash has never dealt with that himself but he's well aware it's not fun. He doesn't comment on it, though, because they really have worse to worry about right now. Gene'll get through it, he has no doubt whatsoever.

What he does have right now is a distinct sense of dread, when Gene says "the other one." ]

Uh. What other one..?

( it hadn't occurred to him that wash wouldn't know, an' so he looks at him askance an' then glances behind them both to assure himself it's the same grave. could have been that wash was watchin' over kyna's given what he'd seen, but — no. it's the same one, wracked and weathered with things broken an' chipped away. )

I ain't noticed 'em movin' about, but there's another one with your name on it up the way, over past the bonfire nearer the river.

[ You know what, Wash isn't even surprised by that. It's new information, sure, but it's not a shock. Just part of how this bullshit works, because why wouldn't they be fighting a grave hydra? He just looks angry, his eyes dark as his jaw works with tension. ]

Of course there is. I guess that's what happens if you destroy it, I smashed this one yesterday.

[ His voice is low and cold and pissed off, but he tries to soften it for Gene's sake when he hears himself. ]

Thanks for offering, but don't bother. With how these things go I probably shouldn't have tried to fight it in the first place. I'm just... you can guess why I didn't want anyone seeing.

[ It's as much the fact that it's not just his death as it is the emotional vulnerability of what he felt in that moment. It's private and not even only his trauma. But of course Gene knows that. Because he saw. ]

( the anger don't bother none. the man's a right to it, an' gene just shakes his head faintly when wash goes on an' tries to gentle it on his account. he knows what wash means — death is personal, an' it ain't a thing meant to be shared among mortal folk, but. wash almost sounds ashamed.

gene's jaw works off to one side with a faint tick of the muscle. the tapping of his fingers have ceased, leastwise for now. clear focus. )

You died fightin'. I know it ain't much, but you were pushin' on despite all else you felt, an' Lord knows you did everythin' you could. Ain't a soul alive could hold you accountable for dyin', Wash, an' I don't think anybody could'a done more with what you had, neither. An' I'm sorry I saw it without askin' permission, but I ain't sorry for comin' to know you better through it.

[ Wash is ashamed. Not for dying, not for losing the fight, but for failing Kyna. He knows, intellectually, that she wouldn't blame him or want him blaming himself, but he does anyway. He doesn't know how to stop it.

Gene might well be the only person they've met in Beacon that Wash is willing to discuss this with, though he can't quite look at the other man. Just sits there twisting one of his rings around on his finger, sounding regretful and more blatantly ashamed of himself, only barely speaking loud enough for Gene to hear him. ]

I should've protected her, Gene. If I'd been closer, I could have gotten there in time.

( he knows that pain. how many times has he felt that himself? if he'd been closer, if he'd been faster, if he'd triaged patients differently, if he hadn't used the last of his morphine on the guy with the shattered femur an' had thought to save it for the one with the sucking chest wound. each one of those deaths beneath his hands — an' lord help him, there've been so many — is another guilty notch on his conscience.

he'd consigned himself to livin' with it, until suddenly he wasn't.

he knows it's different with kyna. there's more there than just friendship, though he ain't yet cottoned on to the extent of it, but. he does reach out an' grip wash's shoulder just the same.

he wishes his pa were here. jesse hicks always know just what to say, an' the best gene's got is to grasp at fragments of his own experience an' what he knows about wash an' kyna an' the death they shared. soft, )

Sometimes you gotta recognize it ain't about you. You were where you were, an' she was where she was, an' that's war. I think we can agree that she ain't the sort who'd appreciate bein' protected or you feelin' like that's your responsibility besides. She's a fighter. Maybe not a soldier, but she knew what she was doin' out there, an' you have to trust that she was doin' it just as well as she could, too.

( his voice wavers, just a touch. that grief an' sorrow an' loss and hurt that wash felt is still there, overlappin' with his own fondness for kyna, an' though gene ain't an emotional sort it's made a mess of his mind all the same. )

It wasn't your fault, Wash. It wasn't. An' if Kyna were right here with us right now she'd say the same an' mean it just as much.

( he's aware he's oversteppin' his bounds some. he knows that wash might ask him to leave, an' it'd be well-deserved, an' he'd go without a fuss. but sometimes wounds have to be lanced to dig out the infection, an' sometimes the bone has to be re-broken before it can set straight. gene's a medical man. he doesn't mind the doin', on the off-chance it'll mean less pain down the line. )

Edited 2019-07-14 02:56 (UTC)

[ Gene isn't saying anything that Wash doesn't already know, but he also doesn't seem to be getting it. Not exactly. At least he manages not to flinch away from the hand on his shoulder because he saw it coming, but he's still tense under Gene's touch. He shakes his head slightly. ]

I know she wouldn't say it's my fault. And I know she can handle herself. She's saved my ass more than the other way around, but that's the point. We're supposed to protect each other, because all it takes is a single moment to be overwhelmed... one missed shot, one too many enemies, just something you didn't see...

[ He exhales heavily, shifts with discomfort like his grief is a physical burden on him. ]

We were supposed to be fighting together but I wasn't close enough so she died alone. Again. I don't even know if she realized I was trying to get there.

( lord, let him never stray from helpin' those that are hurtin', an' givin' succor to those in need. he closes his eyes with the prayer, and then he closes what little distance there is between the two of 'em and pulls wash into a hug. it's an awkward affair, given the relative differences in their sizes (christ o'lordy what are they feedin' these boys in the future?) an' the nature of the day, but it's what he's got. )

She knew. Believe me, fella, she knew.

[ This is probably the fastest anyone in Wash's life has ever gone from nice to meet you to hugging him, and at first he doesn't seem to know how to react to it. He does, of course, he's gotten used to human contact again thanks to the efforts of his friends in Hadriel, but he still initially freezes up. It seems to happen whenever a friend reaches out to him for the first time, like he needs a moment to refile the person from 'safe' to 'touchable' in his head. And someone else always needs to be the one to change that designation, Wash won't reach for them first.

...all of that is assuming the person registered as safe in the first place, which Gene did. So luckily the conditions are right, Wash is just awkward.

He does need it. Gene's at a bit of a strange angle, but it's still comforting. More than his words, honestly, because how could Gene know that? Unless he's visited Kyna's grave too, seen it from her side... Wash really can't think about that right now. He exhales shakily, arms finally coming up around the other soldier and pulling him in a little closer, holding tight for a long moment. Unsurprisingly he's very strong, but isn't clinging in a manner that'd keep Gene from breaking free.

When he does speak again his voice is very soft, plaintive as he essentially begs for advice from someone a decade younger than him. How did Gene become so well adjusted, anyway? Is there a pill that disaster people like him can take? Important questions. ]

It's killing us both all over again not knowing about everyone else. How are you dealing with that?

( they had a hundred and eighty three men when they dropped into gela. attrition worn them down, an' they had near fifty percent casualties in husky anyway. they've lost so many over near three years of fightin' that of the original love company, there's only about twenty men left, an' that used to include him.

how are you dealing with that? wash asks, an' he doesn't. know.

part of it used to be the fact he could see them again. speak to them some, ease what pain in the hereafter he couldn't for them in life an' guide them on to whatever awaits them on the other side. but part of it is the fact he just ain't had time to breathe in the whole of this war. they dropped into gela amidst a storm an' immediately had to take machine gun nests an' beachheads, an' then they fought their way up through italy an' then it was normandy an' that fucking meat grinder of a beach. even furlough wasn't a break, not really, because whether they were in london or ireland or anywhere else, the dead still followed him an' he couldn't turn a blind eye to them.

this has been the most silent week of his life, an' he thinks he's goin' near-insane with it. the silence an' the dark an' the death — which in an' of itself he can accept just fine, but to him it should'a meant goin' home, seein' his pa and his brothers, findin' al in the pacific an' maybe seein' his ma again. that's what death should'a meant instead of bein' here among strangers, watchin' them hurt an' suffer when there ain't much else he can do but watch.

he likes wash in a deep, abidin' sort of way. camaraderie between servicemen, that understandin' that although centuries may separate them the experience is still gonna be much the same.

as it was for achilles, so too for them. gene swallows hard, an' feels perilous young. who says i'm dealin' with it? but, he can't give voice to the thought. folk needin' him to be strong always puts steel in his spine. he closes his eyes briefly, and then in a hush, )

I try to have faith. I know it ain't for everybody, but it's what I've got. An' failing that... I tell myself I'll see 'em again some day.

Edited 2019-07-14 17:28 (UTC)

[ It means more than Wash knows how to say that Gene doesn't pull away when he falters, just lets him figure out the whole accepting comfort from someone new thing at his own pace and answers the question right where he is. Faith, huh? That just prompts more questions from Wash, honestly, that he doesn't know if it's disrespectful to voice. ]

Faith that they made it, or...?

[ Wash doesn't particularly have faith in anything but specific people, but he's also so scared for them that it overwhelms the knowledge of how skilled they are. Because he knows what they were left to face, and he knows that they've faltered before. He's not exactly pessimistic by default but not an optimist either; the most generous description for him would probably be "paranoid realist" and ever since they wound up here, he's just been trying not to think about it. The people he loves are either dead or dealing with his death, and he can't bear the thought of either. Either way he can't go back.

The whole seeing the dead again someday thing has never really been part of his world view, either. It might be different for Gene, though, just from what Wash thinks he saw in the other soldier's memory. God, are there ghosts in his world too and it's just that nobody ever knew? He's not ready to ask about that part just yet, though, and aims for the possibly disrespectful question instead because it somehow feels less invasive. ]

Are you religious, Gene?

( in a quiet echo, )

Faith they made it.

( folks have told him that they won the war. but ain't nobody so well-versed in the very specific history of his very specific company that they can tell him who survived it an' who they left in european ground. it's somethin' he'll just have to carry. did malachi live? did alex and ginny? did lou ever go back to baseball like he promised, would mack get to see his daughters again?

an' aveline. what the hell would she do now? )

An' I am, yeah. But the faith I have in my boys and the faith I have in the Lord ain't quite the same thing.

No, I know. I was asking because of the 'see them again someday' part. I never really thought about it that way, for me it was always just when you're gone you're gone.

[ He doesn't know how to bring up what he saw when he made his offering, if that'd make him shut down or pull away. Probably not? Gene doesn't seem like the type, but Wash's fingers curl slightly into the other man's shirt anyway, a silent and subtle plea for him not to get angry. ]

I saw your friend.

( he does tense a bit, shoulders goin' still. when he extricates himself from the embrace, though, his expression is contemplative rather than upset or any manner'a hurt. he's curiously blank, almost empty of emotion or any sort of reaction at all. wash can put things together, he's a smart fella. an' then there's the matter of reggie walkin' through walls like a damn spook. )

Reggie.

( he says that softly. it's like blood comin' back to a limb, pinpricks along every nerve. but he realizes — he doesn't mind wash knowin'. he doesn't. if there were folks he could pick to tell his secret to so far, it'd be him an' kyna near the top of the list anyhow.

he closes his eyes briefly, brow furrowed with the blink. then, )

Reggie Holiday, yeah. My best friend.

[ Wash has, in fact, put it together. And he feels like he screwed up mentioning that at all, but it's too late to take it back now. He leans back against his headstone as Gene pulls away and sets his hands in his lap, picking idly at a loose thread on a seam of his pants. ]

Yeah, Reggie. How does that... not him specifically, but spirits hanging around, how does that fit in for you? With the idea of an afterlife, and being here.

[ Gene doesn't seem to be upset with him yet, but the questions might be a little much, so Wash drops gaze after a moment, focusing on his own hands. ]

You don't have to answer, you just seem way more at peace with all this than most people.

( last thing he wants is wash feelin' some kinda way about the line of questionin'. gene reaches out an' drops a hand against his shoulder, squeezin' at the muscle there. )

Not everyone leaves a ghost. An' ghosts, after they've made their peace, can move on to some other manner of place I ain't got no knowledge of. Maybe somethin' like this.

( he hesitates, an' then shrugs faintly. it's always a gesture that pulls the burn scar on his shoulder taut. )

Been seein' 'em long as I can remember. Every male in my family has, so far on back in antiquity we ain't got a notion of when it first started or why. You grow up surrounded by the dead, an' it takes the bloom off the rose, you know? Death weren't no mystery to me. It ain't somethin' you can rally against, there ain't no fight to it. Y'all go. It's just a matter of when. Bein' upset on my own behalf don't do nothin' but take away from the good I can do folks here.

[ That's a good way of thinking of it, honestly, but Wash... is having slightly different issues. He always knew he was going to go out fighting, he isn't mourning himself. At least not yet -- it may come eventually, but right now his problem is the people he left behind. Because he knows what it's like to be on that side of things. So many times, he was the one left standing, often despite his best efforts.

He's not going to say that to Gene. Not here and now. But the rest, he can. He reaches up and places his hand over the other man's where it rests on his shoulder, and admits it quietly. ]

I'm not upset for me, Gene. But you're right, we can try to do good here too. It's not so different.

[ Wash isn't sure on that count, either, how he skews. If there's some great scale of good and bad within his soul that determines where he'd wind up, he doesn't think it's tipped over to good just yet. But the fact that people like Gene are also here means this can't be punishment, right? ]

Looks like livin' to me, you know?

( they eat, breathe, forge bonds. the darkness is pervasive but survivable, 'least so far. ain't like anythin' so much as war, save they don't know where the enemy is or when the attack's comin'. all they have is each other. but that's all he's ever needed, too. )

You an' Kyna've already done plenty of good for me. I appreciate that.

[ Wash blinks, suddenly looking absolutely bewildered. It's not the comment about living -- he agrees with that, even with the weird conditions going on here he feels alive enough. Still sapient, still emotional, still himself even if he's as tied to his lantern flame as his own body. No, it's not that part. It's the latter. ]

What do you mean? I haven't done anything.

[ He won't argue that Kyna has, whether or not he knows about it, but him? He hasn't done shit for Gene to be appreciated. ]

You're here, ain't'cha?

( it matters. it always does. it's a rare sort that makes themselves available when others are hurtin' an' it ain't a position gene often finds himself at the other end of. he appreciates it more than he can say, no matter that wash thinks it's somethin' of no consequence. )

Sure, I'm here. Asking you for advice and comfort, not the other way around.

[ It almost sounds like he's scolding himself, or at the least downplaying that he's done anything helpful, but he's also smiling a little now. Because even if this particular conversation seems like it's been more for him, he's glad Gene got something out of it. And he knows from experience sometimes it's easier to focus on other people before addressing yourself. ]

I'm not... great at this kind of thing, but you know you can talk to me if you want. About whatever.

Oh, I'm just subtler 'bout it, is all.

( that's playfully said. gene nudges against wash's shoulder, an' then just. relaxes a bit, sittin' back against the gravestone. )

I know. Better now than I did, but you've always had that sense about'cha.

( he's a pretty good judge of character, all things considered. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

(f) NOW IN THE RIGHT PLACE la la la

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject