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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[Not too many have caught him at his graveyard crawl. He practically jumps at the voice, then spins, hand ghosting toward a nonexistent holster. Muscle memory, nothing more, and when he finds he's been caught by a kid, the surprise is enough to send him crashing downward off his feet.

Well, hey, at least they're eye to eye now, or just about. And hey, that voice, wasn't that the same one in the vision?]

Oh - hey. Sorry, I didn't notice you earlier. Is this yours?

[ this is not, as a point of fact, the first time five has seen a dead man walking. watching rosinante move, listening to him speak, is no more painful than meeting his siblings again, than speaking to anyone in 2019 with the knowledge that the apocalypse comes in days. so all five says is, ]

I thought I told you to keep your lantern in one piece.

[ which may be answer enough. his network handle matches the name on the gravestone, anyway. ]

[All right, yes, he'll take that as confirmation.]

I... I see. I'm sorry for intruding. Something about it drew me in.

[Like his own interest in seeing as many of these things as he can handle so as to better understand everyone he's stuck with. This was not an accident.

Sorry, but hold on, how old is this kid he's looking at? He doesn't think himself a bad judge of age, but a glance at the plaque suggests someone who should look quite a bit older than this. Is he being messed with? The person before him can't be much older than Law, surely. Perhaps the years in that world are a different length than the ones he's used to.]

Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot today.

[ has felt it himself, the pull to leave things at graves, then having to see what happened. but he doesn't dwell on the thought, not when rosinante is giving him a look. ]

What?

How old are you?

[It's not quite an accusation, except maybe it kinda is. Kid, you're not thirty, there's no way about it.]

[ i mean, rosinante isn't wrong. ]

Fifty-eight.

[ mmmmhm ]

[mmmmmhm child.]

Months?

[It's times like these he only knows how to handle with bitter sarcasm. But the kid deserves a deadpan joke in return for the poor one he's trying to pull.]

[ he scoffs, bitter. ]

No, years. Obviously. If I tell you it's because of time travel, are you going to believe me, or is the man who died twice going to tell me that's impossible?

[ because that would be some selective disbelief, right there. ]

Had you told me a week ago I might have.

[Now there's all this magic nonsense and yeah, okay, he died and came back and then did it again for good measure, just in case the first one had been hard to believe. His mind is certainly more open than it used to be when it comes to what's possible.]

Fifty-eight, official age around thirty, and you look... maybe half that. That's a hell of a mess to untangle, not a simple forward or backward.

It is simple.

[ he says, even though it's really not. gesturing with his hands, he goes on, ]

1989, I was born. Sometime after that, I time travel. I spend a lot of years elsewhere. Out of time. I come back to 2019. My physical age regresses because of some quantum physics you wouldn't understand. I die.

Any questions? No? Good.

[Funny definition of simple. But he'll allow it, if only because he feels bad for having pressed that particular button. The question of age is, of course, linked to the topic of death for all of them.]

You remind me of Dr. Ingram. He's the only other person I've heard use that word here. "Quantum."

[But he shakes his head.]

Sorry, though. Really. I don't know what's going on here and how all these memorials with their visions got here, but it's got a lot of us on edge for good reason.

Of course he is.

[ not that they're the only ones. there's rosalind, who he nearly exclusively discusses quantum mechanics with, for instance. not that, really, most people go around discussing quantum anything. but he chooses to make it sound like a values judgement -- of course rosinante isn't familiar, of course that goes along with five's opinion of him -- because, as it's been pointed out it's got a lot of us on edge for good reason. ]

Look, I don't want your apologies. If you saw anything? I don't care. If you didn't? Still don't care. You don't have to explain anything to me.

[ said, as if he didn't literally appear in the night to judge rosinante for stopping by his grave. ]

All right, all right. No explaining.

[He holds up a hand as if to surrender, to placate. Everyone has their way of reacting to all this - the graves and their visitors, and the occasional confrontation where the visitor is seen as an intruder instead. It's his mistake for not being more careful and confirming the grave's owner wasn't around before stealing a look. At least he feels better about the age thing - not that he really understands or even fully believes it, for how little sense it makes - but at least with the children, he tries to ask first, or avoid them entirely. It's good this kid isn't really a kid. Apparently.

He stoops to pick up his lantern.]

I'll be on my way, then. I didn't mean to bother you.

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

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