EVENT LOG: GRAVES

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

[rehabbed]

[ God. It doesn't matter anymore, Arya. The way Jesse's skinny shoulders slouch and the way he breathes out a self-reproachful sigh says just as much: It doesn't matter. Just drop it. He sags back against a misshapen boulder jutting out of the ground, offerings gathered up from his grave still clutched in a jumble in his arms. He cocks his head to peer up at her, watching that intense, frustrated expression of hers, and he follows her with his eyes as she invites herself to sit beside him.

'What is his name?' Just a hollow stare at Arya for a moment, then Jesse looks away. He says nothing for a few beats, and it seems he might be ignoring her. But then, his voice low and empty: ]

It doesn't matter what his name is. He got what he wanted. I got what I deserved. And now I'm here. Simple as that.

[facelessgirl]

[ But if it didn't matter, then Arya wouldn't be able to feel the pain coming off this man as though her sense were picking it up. She wouldn't still be ringing like a struck bell with what she'd felt in that vision. No one can pull off a defiant, fierce little scowl like Arya can, and the expression isn't fleeing from her face at his evasiveness. ]

And if he ends up here?

[ Because where else would he go? Arya has some names she's hoping to run into herself, but now a new face is lurking in her mind. When Jesse doesn't look at her right away she plucks something at random out of the bundle in his arms, frowning at him and what he's doing and seeming to notice his hoard for the first time. ]

If you think this place is what you deserve, then what does he deserve?

[ The worst people always get what they want, for a time. But that time ends. She's seen it. ]

[rehabbed]

[ It's a thought that's been ticking away in the back of Jesse's mind: What if Mr. White ends up here? What then? Would it mean he got what he deserved? Probably not. Probably not, because Mr. White always wins. Even in death, Mr. White would find a way to win. He always finds a way. So, Jesse, again, sits in silence, while Arya's last question hangs like a simmering bubble of frustration in the air: If you think this place is what you deserve, then what does he deserve?

"If you believe there's a hell, we're already pretty much going there." Mr. White had spat that in Jesse's face after Drew had been killed, after Jesse had told Mr. White that he was out. He was quitting the business because he couldn't handle any more death. Not after Drew Sharp. A bitter, humourless little smile to himself tugs on the corners of Jesse's mouth. It gives his pale, weary face an icy sinister edge. ]

If he ends up here... you're better off not knowing who he is. Trust me. You'd be safer that way.

[facelessgirl]

[ That's a cold look she recognizes, insidious as it is on Jesse's drained face. It doesn't look out of place though, and if anything, it draws into starker relief how rare getting lightness out of him is going to be. ]

One of us would be safer.

[ She wonders whether the edge in that bald man's voice, the deadened pleasure in his face at seeing Jesse dragged to meet his fate, would have reached under her skin like this if she hadn't already come to know Jesse a little bit here. She takes a breath and closes her eyes for a moment, reaching to touch the feeling she'd had in that vision, seeing if she can access it again. It's only a shadow of the experience, but his face is burned in Arya's mind. A face and no name.

It simply won't due. ]

And I don't think it would be you. [ She looks away though, sitting back, and tugs off her leather gloves one after the other to begin shredding the leafy plant she'd plucked out of Jesse's arms. ] I mean, not that you care. [ She says it dismissively, with a shrug, as if to say that if Jesse doesn't care about himself, why should she? ]

But if he does show up here. He isn't getting away from me. [ The coolness of her tone, the proven surety in it, is likely disturbing. ]

[rehabbed]

[ It's true. He doesn't care, not about himself. Other people, though... If Mr. White showed up here, it's other people Jesse would care about. Other innocent people who don't deserve what Mr. White is capable of. Arya's cool, collected insistence, though, about Mr. White — it's so... eerily calm. Like Gus. Gus used to talk like that. Jesse shifts against the boulder to look at her more front-on, that humourless little sinister smile all but vanished. ]

Arya. No. You don't understand. This guy, he's smart. Like, crazy smart. He is always two steps ahead of everybody. Just when you think you've beaten him, he finds a way to outsmart you and fuck you over, a hundred times worse. He's like a snake. If he showed up here, it's me that'll deal with him. 'Cause I know how he works, and I'm the only person he trusts. [ Well... ] Well... trusted.

this was the random icon and i'm keeping it

[facelessgirl]

[ She blinks at him, at his doubt in her, feeling that familiar itch to prove herself that being discounted always stirs up. Calm as still water though, because he probably does know best. The vision was not much to go by, but Arya doesn't forsee herself forgetting it. Or him.

Jesse doesn't know how smart she is, though. Or what she's truly capable of. Arya chews on her secrets, considering all that Jesse doesn't know about her. All that she still wants to keep to herself. He does know one thing about her. She drops her voice into Jesse's own rough tones that she's used on him before, keeps it quiet so any others around them don't hear. ]

Would he be two steps ahead of this? Or... something like this?

[ The look she shoots him is pointed. She can do more. But she won't show him. ]

Let me help, then. If he ever does. [ She scatters the shreds of the flowers Jesse was left on the ground, torn apart by her idle hands. ] You didn't exactly do so great the last time.

lmaooo

[rehabbed]

[ Jesse visibly flinches at hearing his voice coming out of her mouth. God, that makes his skin crawl. The look he fixes her is almost resentful, rather than amazed; the sombre grimness of this whole situation far outweighs any kind of amazement right now. But that resentment is quickly superseded by a glum sigh deflating out of him at her next remark: You didn't exactly do so great the last time. She's not wrong. Except if there was ever a next time — if, for whatever reason, Mr. White did wind up here — Jesse would know better than ever to figure out a way to stay ahead of Mr. White's plans. ]

Yeah, and if something happened to you 'cause I let you help me, I'd never forgive myself.

[facelessgirl]

[ She snorts at that. She can't help it. Perhaps it's all she's been through, perhaps it's the idea that this man she's just met could possibly care what happens to her one way or another, but it's clear the statement amuses her. It's a long couple of seconds before she realizes he's serious. Her face cracks into a sudden frown then and she scowls at him before looking away defiantly. ]

You don't have to worry about me. And you can't stop me from watching out for him, either.

[ She wouldn't feel safe with someone like that here anyway, but it feels like she's arguing with Jon all over again about how much danger she's allowed to be in. If only either of them knew.

But... perhaps she should drop it if he doesn't want to hear it. He really can't stop her, after all. ]

I don't want to think about what someone like that would do in a place like this. Not when they say we've all got to work together.

[rehabbed]

[ Jesse wishes he could dismiss the idea of Mr. White showing up here as impossible. He can't, though, because he himself showed up here, didn't he? And Mr. White would be doomed to the same kind of place Jesse would be doomed. And even more than that, Mr. White's death is going to be inevitable one way or another. Cancer has a way of getting everyone in the end, usually — although, knowing Mr. White, he'd find a way to keep outsmarting that, too. ]

Hey— [ With Arya stubbornly turning away from him, Jesse reaches out a hand to grab hold of her forearm, to get her attention. He gives it an insistent squeeze, wanting her to look at him. ] Arya. I'm serious. You saw him for, like, a second. Me, on the other hand? I've known him since high school. [ Even though he didn't really know Mr. White in high school, but the point remains. ] If he shows up here, you gotta promise you won't do anything. Not without discussing shit with me first. Because I know him. I know how he operates. You don't.

[facelessgirl]

[ That touch - it's simple and happens quickly but the moment his fingers close around her arm, Arya's head snaps around to face him as fast as a whip crack, the wiry cords of her forearm muscles flexing hard under his grip. She resists the urge to pull it away from him, but her arm still jerks in his hold.

For a flash of a moment, the look on her face is deadly. It fades almost instantly to simple irritation. ]

... Fine. [ She doesn't know what high school is, but she doesn't know a lot of words that Jesse uses. The scowl on her face looks like it might be permanent. ] I'll discuss shit with you first.

[ A long pause where she studies him, not hiding the fact that she's trying to read his fear of this man and his concern for her. It's surprisingly hard for her to decipher what his death was all about. ]

What will you do? If he shows up here?