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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Kara.

( he didn't have any inklin' this is what she'd look like — a beautiful young woman that could'a stepped out of any magazine in his time if she only had victory rolls done up in her hair. her hand was even warm in his despite the tremor to it. it could just be residual emotion of whatever's troublin' her, but he realizes — given what she'd said, it could just as much be some fear of him.

how is it that a machine can seem so human? lord, the world must change more than he'd thought it might.

gently, )

Well, it's nice to meet you in person. How'd you make out with your offer an' the rest of town?

Mm. It's nice to meet you in person too. ( and she smiles again, a little less sad this time and showing more warmth even if she does look so very tired. )

And I was able to talk to a couple of people. I'm grateful for any response since it helps keeping me busy.

( idle hands, as they say. gene nods in soft sympathy — he understands that need plenty. even here, he ain't had a day's rest. he's up every morning at what would be dawn back home, workin' best he can. puttin' his hands to work. if he sits an' thinks about the darkness an' the dyin' he thinks he'd be worse than shellshocked.

he ducks his head, thumbs the lip of his beer an' then takes an idle drink. then he tips his head to one side, as if something's only just occurred to him. )

Ah. In case you ain't... been outside yet, you might wanna be careful where you venture. Seems like all manner of graves have gone on an' popped up outside, an' leavin' offerings there, prayer or otherwise, has some perilous side-effects.

( understatement. an' it could be, too, that's why she was cryin'. but just in case it were some other thing, he'd rather she know outright. )

( she watches him with a curious look. humans were just so strange — then again perhaps it was all strange only because she did not know many humans before now.

now she is surrounded by them and truly, in a way, it scares her. )

I have seen them but I have seen others experience the visions of someone's death and even those who have seen my death. I thought to hide mine, perhaps destroy it but that causes even more trouble it seems.

Yeah. Seems it creates more trouble than it solves. A pal of mine tried that route.

( wash. an' then gene'd stumbled on it anyhow, not realizin' that a simple act of prayer would have the same effect as leavin' a token. she's the first one, though, that's spoke quite so frankly on the matter of her dyin'. most folk seem content to dance around the subject. he can't hardly blame 'em.

the idea of somethin' that calls herself a machine would describe a lack of function as a death is another thing that's vaguely unsettlin' to him, right on top of just how damn human she looks. )

Seems like we're all in this together. I'm sure you could just ask folk plain not to leave anythin'. I feel like most of 'em wouldn't want to violate anyone's wishes on purpose.

❪ she can understand the distance some might want to keep from their own deaths. as it stands though, she decided her own death there on the banks of canada and it isn't something she can deny. she knew she would die choosing the option activate her own shut down and this, as strange as it was, was the result. ❫

I suppose I could but it doesn't bother me. What happened, happened. I just hate for anyone to feel as I did in my last moments. ❪ she sighs, carefully placing the folded up paper that contained the picture of alice on the table before her. ❫ It was not a pleasant experience, not that any death is but I do not wish for anyone to experience the pain of their child dying in their arms.

( it's a heavy thing to admit. he flinches some, though it ain't more overt than a tightening to his jaw and a twitch to his fingers. he's seen it before, hasn't he? folks gunned down all across belgium an' on into france. it's like a match to the tinder of old memories, it catches alight in him an' he has to look away.

he wonders if maybe it's a matter of her bein' a machine that makes her state it so plain, but. it sure doesn't change the sentiment, does it? )

No. Reckon that wouldn't be the most pleasant experience.

( his voice is curiously rough. )

I'm sorry that's what brought y'here, Miss.

❪ maybe it was because she was a machine that made talking about it so easy. maybe it was because she knew she needed to talk about it else she would wallow in it for however long she would be here. whatever the case, she shuts her eyes briefly and shakes her head. ❫

I'm sorry too. I just hope she's somewhere better than this.

( he's tentative about it, sure. but he reaches across the table for her hand, gives it a brief, bracing squeeze an' then backs off again. )

I'll pray for the same, if'n you ain't got an objection to it.

( most folk don't mind him includin' them in prayer, but you never know. he'd prefer to be polite. )

EVENT LOG: GRAVES

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