logsinthenight | skittering in the dark [open]

characters: Ellever Brandt and you!
location: The library, the Invincible, etc.
date/time: The beginning to the middle of the month.
content: People are going missing, people are dying — Ellever is being less homebound as she tries to wrestle with it.
warnings: Language. Will update as necessary.

library;

[ One would think that a month as turbulent as it's been (thus far) for Ellever would have her staying mostly indoors, but instead, she feels restless. Beacon and its surroundings have been taking more than they've been giving, and Ellever desperately wants — needs — to see something new. Visiting the library always gives her this feeling, so she arrives fairly early in the morning on a few occasions. She doesn't keep to herself, either; she'll briefly smile at anyone else who's here to read, even if she doesn't recognize them.

On one of these occasions, the first book she pulls from the shelf is a tattered-looking copy of The Worm Farmer's Handbook. Ellever stares at it, first in confusion and then in vague curiosity. ]

There'd better be a picture of a worm with a cowbell around its neck in here.

invincible;

[ More toward the middle of the month, Ellever makes her way into the tavern and sits down at the bar with her shoulders slumped. This is out of the ordinary for her — she isn't much of a drinker and rarely partakes in the Invincible's passable fare. But today, she raises a hand to get the attention of the bartender, eyes dark. ]

Something strong. Whatever you've got. [ Ellever rubs at her forehead and face until the glass arrives. ] Thanks. Fuck. [ She glances at the person she'd sat right next to, instead of giving them a few stools of distance as is courteous. ] ...Not you. Sorry.

town hall;

[ Likely not too long after one or more trips to the Invincible, Ellever can be found in the archives of the town hall, rooting around restlessly. There's an abundance of information here and yet, also nothing. It drives her up the wall. Finding something she hasn't looked at recently, or perhaps at all, Ellever sits down with her back against a shelf and starts reading. If she fills her head with this information, maybe it'll keep out all of the other thoughts that are trying to bother her. ...maybe.

She lets out the world's biggest yawn right after, but shakes her head to try and pull herself out of her boozy lull before going back to reading. With her legs stuck out at angles, it might be hard for someone else to get by her. Ellever glances up, the movement taking her longer than usual, if anyone approaches. ]

Oh, sorry. Uh. [ She squints. Even sitting up is clearly a lot of effort. ] Here.

[ It's a small shift, but... she tried. ]

[ ooc: If you'd like to plot out something specific, send me a message and we can hash it out! Either through this account or on

crowskyler! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ellever raises both brows for a moment before glancing at the bartender with the same face, wordlessly asking permission. It's not great alcohol, of course, but it fulfills all the basic requirements. One sour expression later, she's following Soldat back to wherever he's going to load up. ]

Okay, you asked for it.

[ A brief grin. She doesn't make a habit of drinking, but she knows enough to anticipate either falling asleep or getting angry. Getting drunk had seemed risky, back home. What if she'd lost control of whatever-it-was that made it possible for her to jumpstart the end of the world?

Now that doesn't matter anymore, and she just wants to think a lot less. ]

How're you holding up?

By eating a lot. Mostly.

[Because while they're pretty sure the constant hunger isn't actually their metabolism being stupider than usual, anymore, it's still comforting to eat. (~~Food. Eat. Yes.~~ Shut up, you bastard.) Hence the plate piled high with sandwiches and the bowl full of pasta with beef and veggies and the mug of something that smells like both chocolate and coffee at the same time.

They let Elle get the door heading back out into the depressing drizzle, because their hands are quite full.]

Going back to the church. So you can be drunk and disorderly in there with me.

Oh. Shit. [ She lets out an amused little laugh, the sound extended by the nice buzz she's feeling. ] I've never been to church before but isn't that usually a wine establishment?

[ Not that she really cares, and the words are more of a joke than anything else. Ellever wasn't raised religious. Her father sheltered her from it, on account of most religions having some sort of doomsday prophecy.

She holds the door open, eyes passing over the carbs. Well, at least he's eating. ]

Let's go scandalize someone, then.

[Joke's on you, Elle, the church is usually pretty empty, except apparently when people are waiting for Soldat, since there were like four people who kept checking then. The worse they'll find is maybe Sora and Fjord, waiting for Alisaie, or maybe Jo, waiting for Castiel and Dean. Those people are hard to scandalize.

Soldat steps outside and down the path to the church.]

I don't remember ever going to church either, though I'm pretty sure I did it. I. My. Mother. She was Jewish. But Pa wasn't.

[ It'll be a disappointment, but for now, she follows along with her bottle of booze. And it occurs to her, then, that she took the bottle and not her glass, but she shrugs and takes a small sip from the lip of the bottle. The burn would normally be unpleasant — and is the reason she rarely drinks — but, in her current mood, Ellever doesn't care.

She sucks in a long breath. ]

Yeah? I think my dad was raised Catholic. He didn't like religion except to talk about it like... a piece of history. [ Ellever snorts, derisive of her next thought. ] And then there's my real dad, making religions by freaking people out. Or however they saw him. Still not sure what all his names are.

[ That's a lot to mention, but still, she plows onward. ]

I don't think we're missing much, my dad said something about all of the bowing and scraping making his knees hurt.

Is there a lot of bowing and scraping in church?

[Yuck. Soldat has done so much metaphorical bowing and scraping that doing so physically sounds pretty terrible. They're not sure how much about religion they could even properly believe in, given everthing... but they live(d) with an angel and a demon, and has even viewed a memory about a real Christian(-ish?) god.

And yes, it's a lot, but they're gonna let it percolate a minute.]

[ Ellever wrinkles her nose, going ahead and having another sip as she thinks about it. ]

Catholics, yeah. They kneel down and then get up and kneel and... there's a lot of ceremony and shit to it, basically. Lots of Latin chants, superstitious stuff. [ She shakes her head. ] I'm so glad he fell out of those beliefs.

[ Ellever has been over many church thresholds while investigating things, or on a job or two, and she's never felt different. But she still has to imagine that bringing a Child of Nine — or herself, specifically — to one is still kind of insulting. Especially to a sect of Christianity that puts more stock into the whole antichrist thing. ]

Not that I know that much about it. I just know his complaints and what I've read while researching.

[That sounds vaguely familiar, in a "bored child" kind of way. There's an echo of something, like they can hear a voice in the distance doing the chant. (~~Boring. Why aren't you eating.~~ Gotta get to the church first. ~~Boring.~~ No.)]

Might have. Done that? Before? Been in a church where we had to do that.

[A pause, then the further knowledge, even more devoid of context than the first:]

Steve was definitely Catholic.

[ She glances at him appraisingly when he hazards that he's been in an experience like that before. Church for religious people is either a moment of bliss or a moment of dread. It's interesting, really. When she'd been ten or so, she'd wondered if crossing the threshold of a church would light her on fire. Or light the church on fire. But nothing so exciting's ever happened.

Then he offers that other name. ]

Steve?

Have I not told you about Steve?

[Even despite everything, the name can still make them smile a little bit.]

He was my friend. Before HYDRA. He was the first happy memory I got back, the first memory I got back that wasn't the war or torture or some shit like that. Most of the happy memories I've got back since had him in them, actually.

[ Ellever takes another long sip and then smiles, both at what Soldat tells her and at the burn down her throat. ]

You guys were close, then?

[ Just a hazard of a guess. What he'd gone through had been dark and harrowing, to say the least; for a good memory to come through, it probably has to be a strong one. Elle has no practical experience, just a gut feeling and a knowledge of how much happy memories can make a difference. ]

[They make such a difference. Having at least one happy memory to hold onto really helped Soldat be less afraid to get new memories, feel less like they were malfunctions and they actually belonged to him. That memory was so important they put it into a jar, from the woman at the Night Market.]

Yes. Yes, we were. Shared an apartment. Were kids together, before that. Brought him home for holidays and shit.

[They pause outside the church, and nod at it. Their hands are still full (~~Hurry up and EAT.~~ We're getting there, hold you damn horses. ~~I will eat those too!~~) so Elle has to get the door again.]

skittering in the dark [open]

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