logsinthenight | That One With the Meeting [OPEN]

characters: Cao Pi and OPEN!!!
location: the town hall
date/time: appx moonrise Sept. 2, for a couple of hours
content: Cao Pi proposed a meeting for everyone to talk about what ideas they have for organizing, protecting the town, and safely exploring their confines. This is that meeting. Newcomers are welcome as well! Assume characters have heard about it through the grapevine, but especially on Sept. 1 as Cao Pi makes the rounds and tells people this is happening. He will have a moment to orate but after that the floor is open, threadjacking is encouraged, and whatever comes of this is a complete free-for-all!
warnings: probably some discussion of character death. lmk if I need to edit this.

Despite the fact that Will Ingram's messages providing further information were yet to come, Cao Pi had made a public promise and he would hold himself to it, carrying out his meeting as described. At moonrise on the 2nd, he is already present in the town hall, hoping to see not just those who told him they would be there, but also some of the unfortunate newcomers freshly thrown into this situation. He had done his best to prowl around the Invincible and the bonfire, mentioning that the meeting would happen, but he still had to rely on word of mouth to do its work.

When he decides there are enough people present to begin, the Lord of Wei steps up before the assembly, clearing his throat importantly. "For better or worse," he begins, "we are a community. A town, if we are not a country. The hints and cryptic comments from the Lighthouse Keeper have suggested that we have a job to do, but we're still waiting on information as to what it is and why - why us, why the dead stolen from their worlds or their respective afterlives. But the recent mission to connect the Keeper to the network our tablets can access has shown a number of weaknesses that may hamper our ability to do any job, let alone the one which will keep us all from being permanently obliterated." Is that harsh? Too bad. He doesn't care. "We know a few things for certain. One, that we must carry out the purpose which the Keeper understands and encourages. Two, if we fail in any way, she will kill us all by ordering the spirits to destroy us. Three, the spirits deep in the forest are not just her weapon against us, but they have their own will and may attack or destroy anyone who simply wanders out too far. Our explorations have uncovered a number of things but not everything, by far. If you are new or simply haven't kept up on the recent developments, the record is here." He holds out a hand to the logbooks kept there in the town hall.

"I've asked you here to discuss the issues facing us in Beacon, and to offer up any ideas for how to solve those issues. There are quite a few of them, some that even I, perhaps, haven't considered yet. Please be orderly and take your turns, but I should like to hear from everyone. Whether you have questions, or have an idea you wish to share, please. Speak up. We will all be better for the sharing of ideas and discussion of pros and cons, rather than just waiting and hoping that someone will take charge and give us orders."

With that, he steps aside, inviting anyone and everyone to come up and speak. Or simply rise from their seat and speak. The floor is open, Beacon, use it to say things that you might not want anyone connected to the network to overhear. Sass the Keeper, gush about the Postmaster, whatever you want. Hopefully by the end of it all, someone might have some plans that can be brought about. For his part, Cao Pi is not putting himself up as any sort of authority or the one actually in charge, he literally is only there as organizer and moderator and nothing else. At least, so his cool half-smirk and perfect manners would suggest...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ wait. wait, that's it? uh...?? that's all he's going to say? ]

What kinds of things? Small things? Big things? Paper? Wood? Metal?

[Follow up questions? Why? Why??? Please, fine gentleman, have mercy.]

Wood, generally...I'm a woodworker. I, erm...

[His level of fidgeting begins to increase, and he's very certainly not making eye contact.]

Mostly make things on a smaller scale. Not, like, I mean, not miniature, but...anyway I can adjust as I need to. I've been researching architecture.

[ oh. a woodworker. eliot fights the urge to make an inappropriate joke. ]

So like. Bookshelves? Fences? That kind of thing?

Would you be able to construct tools? For maybe a garden.

Yeah, sort of.

[He flexes his hands. He could be more specific, probably, but does he want to? Not really, because his life is a series of endless embarrassments.]

I could probably do that, yeah. I mean, I can't really promise perfection but I've had to repair some of my own tools enough that I could probably manage...

[ that's actually really reassuring. there's a quality to wood that can't be replaced. and if this guy has fixed up some of his own tools, it probably means he understands the weight and shape it takes to hold it all together too. or at least for things like his tools, which is better than any stick eliot could shape. ]

Do you need special tools to work with? I mean. You probably didn't come here with them, right? Your tools.

[ sorry, did you want to leave this conversation? because eliot isn't going to let you. ]

Yeah...I have an axe but that's it, nothing else was on me when I got, uh, you know.

[Munched, basically. Tools is also starting to not feel like it's a real word anymore.]

There isn't a whole lot to choose from at the store right now, but I can make due. I figure I can talk to, um, Rastus? About getting some more specific things...

An axe is good. The trees won't fell themselves out here. [ nor will they debranch themselves and chop themselves up into nice useable boards, but that's another matter. at least the general store has saws too. ] And they're great weapons, according to. Well. Way too many horror movies.

Wouldn't you need something like a workbench too? Or is that just like. What the internet wants me to think?

Anything can be a workbench if you try hard enough.

[He laughs, weakly, and immediately regrets trying to have any kind of charm. God, just shut up, Remington.]

But I mean, it's helpful. I'm not really...picky. I don't need anything fancy when push comes to shove, as long as I have a solid surface.

[ god. this poor boy is sadder than quentin. someone call a medic, he looks like he's going to pass out from that laugh. ]

I suppose that's fair. I think tools would be good though. And maybe weapons. We haven't a forge, and Rastus would have to do a lot to fully arm us all. Is that something you'd be willing to try?

Making...making weapons?

[The thought makes him kind of queasy, if he's being honest. Wouldn't that require, like, smithing, or whatever? But of course he just gives a lukewarm:]

Yeah--yeah, sure, I could try! One man's hedge trimmer is another's...actually, no, nevermind, I don't want to finish that thought.

[The mental image is bad enough.]

Is that too much?

[ the stumble in saying the phrase alone was signal enough, but then the awkward attempt to turn something plausibly gruesome into a joke kinda say, "yes, please, take me away from here." ]

You don't have to if they make you uncomfortable, you know. I'd rather you make something you could be proud of. That's the only way it'd really be made right anyway.

...a lot of things make me uncomfortable, if I'm being honest. So, it's fine. I'll just do as much as I can.

[RIP.]

[ oh. this. poor, poor child. it's hard not to think of q, who would deny how uncomfortable things make him if only to appear less incompetent, but quentin is definitely just as awkward and uncomfortable dealing with most things as he always appears to be. much like this fellow here. ]

Um. Okay-- [ he furrows his brow slightly before reaching out to offer a consoling pat on the other man's shoulder. ] --we can work on that. I'm not expecting you do anything morally compromising, though.

That's just.

Not something you should ever do? Just because someone asks you to.

[There's something strange that happens when those words sink in. It might come off as a reaction to the touch, but really, he barely feels it. Morally compromising, he said. Just because someone asks. Abruptly, Remington stands and stumbles away, likely nearly knocking over a chair (or another person) in the process. He fumbles over apologies.]

Ah...I have to go outside. Sorry--really, I'm--

[Turning, cutting himself off, he hurries toward the door, avoiding as many bodies as he can in his haste.]

[ he withdraws his hand as if burned but is mostly confused at the sudden excusal. it had only been a light touch.

what the hell?

there's not much to be done though. he watches as the man runs off, and turns back to various looks ranging from the same confusion to reprimand, as if he'd punched the kid somehow. sighing through his nose, he shakes his head, holding his tongue and waiting for the next person to speak up and say their part. ]

Edited 2019-09-13 05:44 (UTC)

That One With the Meeting [OPEN]

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