logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor.
date/time: september 6-7.
content: characters and forest spirits send off paper lantern boats in honor of those who have died..
warnings: character death

a somber kind of serenity.

When you arrive at the harbor, there are already boats in the water, and the lighthouse's red beam flares in slow pulses over the lake. The moon's a bright first quarter and the stars are out in force today, all reflected on the glassy surface of the water. It's uncharacteristically calm, this weather, so take advantage.

Rastus is down at the water's edge, tending to a large mound of pebbles that looks not unlike a miniature bonfire from a distance. The stones are all ordinary, having been collected from the beach, except Rastus has enchanted them to glow with a soft, yellow light. The enchantment will only last a week, but that's ample time for this little ceremony to send off those lost over the past two months. Or to send off something less literal, perhaps.

Next to the pile of stones is an array of craft materials—just the basic supplies like paper, markers, glue, and scissors, but more than enough to accommodate everyone in attendance. A handful of forest spirits (some you may recognize from the party!) are standing nearby to assist in paper-folding or boat-crafting if you're out of your depth there. They, along with Rastus, urge you to join in. This memorial is as much about you as it is anyone we've lost, after all. The boats can look like or represent anything you like.

Releasing boats lit with pebbles out onto the water will fill you will a sense of peace. It's a somber kind of serenity, but it's a relief nonetheless, whether you're mourning the loss of a friend or letting go of some other part of yourself. You're welcome to release as many boats as you like, too. It's not like there's a shortage of rocks around here, and even if the craft materials run low, there's plenty of other stuff around town that could be used in a pinch.

The forest spirits are in attendance, as well. Some are helping with the crafting, yes, but most are taking part themselves, building their own little boats to send out over the water. Their crafting involves more of a hands-on approach: Chomping and tearing and crinkling into unique shapes and textures. They stand out from the townsfolks' designs on the beach, but once the boats drift far enough into the surf, it's impossible to tell which vessels belong to which group. Feel free to NPC your own forest spirits for this event and refer to the OOC info post if you have questions about how they might behave.

On the final night of the event, a sound starts up along the treeline, one you haven't heard in some time, perhaps. Crickets. Cicadas. Katydids and beetles and the shrill hum of a mosquito in your ear. It seems insects have returned to Beacon from... wherever they were hiding, and the night air is now vibrant with their music. No more eerie silence back in town, where the sounds of the lake are snuffed out by the trees. It sounds almost like a real forest now.

And it will stay that way after this event ends, too. Maybe you were enjoying the time away from bugs or maybe you were longing for some sign that, yes, this world was alive once, but either way, the insects are here to stay. Well, until winter, at least.

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She'll smile openly enough for the both of them, pleased and encouraging at once.

"Not shabby, right? I know a lot, and there might be something in the library for more if we're lucky. Can make a hobby of it."

He...needs hobbies, she would wager.

The idea of a hobby is pretty novel, to be honest. The Soldier is used to either having a mission, or being in cryo-- and when on a mission, boredom isn't a problem, there's just orders. It's reaching the point now, though, that it's starting to remember what boredom actually is.

The Soldier wants to know how to make more, but asking isn't a thing it's supposed to do. So, after a beat, it plucks up another piece of paper and gives her a look (to her face, not quite her eyes, but close) that shades into both hopeful and expectant. Almost like a puppy. That doesn't count as asking, right?

[it just means he'll have to get working and work harder, then!]

Hm. I had not considered whether there was a certain quota, or even a limit to the number of people who could be here at any given time. Clearly, this little corner of afterlife is not the entirety of afterlife since, well, there ought to be billions of people. It only adds another layer of mystery to the whole thing.

[unless the spirits are also former human beings and...oh god he doesn't want to think that right now...]

[thankfully he's a good reader of people and takes the shyness at face value]

I will not pry if you do not wish it. But I am curious, since you mentioned familiarity with the Moon Festival. I have been...searching, I suppose, for people from my own country. There is something comforting about knowing you're not the only one.

[It's not a good way to go through life, Crowley, tied up in yourself and not paying attention.]

I'm not sure. [She pauses, thinking for a moment.]

I hope it's a good sign.

[Jo wonders about some of the phrases Daylight uses. But family is such a personal thing, she doesn't want to pry even if she's curious. She's used to asking questions and it's hard to stop herself.

Especially right now doesn't feel appropriate.]

Yeah. You're right. I'm glad you could do that.

No, I didn't know how to make a boat. Paper and glue isn't really 'sculpting,' but it's still not my kind of 'art'...

[He shrugs. It was a cute turtle? Give him credit for that.]

I had some help; it was her idea to make it a turtle.

[So this is what they're making, only with more leaves. It's VERY cute. Kakyoin honestly thinks it's stupid-looking, but in the kind of way that he would throw hands in defense of his dopey turtle boat. It comes with just enough satisfaction of a job well done that he's fond of it, when it's done...]

Well— it is a turtle.

[ She won't always be so honest. Hit the right topic and she'll clam up, deflect the conversation, and refuse to talk about things. But she's trying hard to be open here, to build a safe space where she might not feel so alone because as miserable as she is, she knows that will at least help a little.

Blinking at the sudden question, it's kind of nice to just have it come up like this. Now she knows that he knows, unlike some of others she's run into since her arrival. ]

Yeah, I have a few people who have been helping. I don't do it often, though; I'm trying to test my limits.

[ She doesn't want to hurt anyone. ]

[ They're similar. Fingers closed protectively around hearts soft enough to be hurt, tight-lipped, and for their own deeply-personal reasons, are learning the value of trying to say the things that are important in the borrowed time left to them. He-

-exhales, a little relieved. ]

Good. It can't be easy, being the only one. Having that uncertainty... not knowing if you'll have what you need to get by.

[ Since he was young, he's had this habit of saying things others considered weird or strange or beyond his years. It's made him more reserved as a result, but these are weird circumstances. ]

Sorry. Where I'm from, there are worlds full of people who-- they're not exactly like you, but similar enough.

[ He looks back out over the lake, a gauzy mirror dotted with softly glowing lights. ]

We all have to be at our best. It's why...
I want you to count me in. Not lightly. But you didn't ask lightly, either. Did you?

[ It's important to have a chance to say goodbye.
It's important to remember what's lost. To treasure the memories you shared with who has moved on ahead.

Riku's own grief in the wake of the deaths of Dawn and Kairi, of Sora's quest that carried him away from his side, even Gene was gone and as raw and as empty spaces where they all were, Riku remains rooted here, a monument to them and a beacon in his own right.

He recognizes Daylight's effort for what it is, understands how difficult it can be to smile when the reasons to dwindle. Riku does it for him, because...

It's what Sora would have done. ]

Yeah. It has.

[ His palm moves comfortingly over that too-warm chassis, though it's usually Kairi who would do this sort of thing, so gentle and so brave. Riku is more reluctant to let these gestures linger, but he likes Daylight. His eyes downcast, Riku speaks of the boat and it's lantern in the other hand. ]

...Let me send this one off. For Dawn. He would've-

I think Dawn would've liked your song.

[He sprawls next to her, far away from that spirit, and glances down at her wet creation.]

You want me to give it a shot? Bet I could make something that'd float.

[ No, it hasn't been easy. She's lost so much in just a few short years that to suddenly be so completely alone has been... Well, if she hadn't already been broken, this would have done it. Instead, she's just been pulled deeper into the ocean of misery inside her, the surface so high above that she no longer feels any hope of reaching it.

It's surprising enough to hear that there are other worlds where he's from, let alone some with people like her. The knowledge makes her turn her full attention to him, as if trying to uncover a mystery she isn't even aware of. And then he surprises her again with that insight. ]

Back home, people don't know what I am. My friends do, but some of them are vampires too, or other things that aren't what people consider normal. We all hide what we are so we can stay safe and try to live normal lives.

Oh. I didn't mean-- uhm, I think a turtle sounds cool. [God, just shot him now - cool? Really? He sounds like a dork and knows it, ducking his head a little.]

You have a kind of art? What? And also, you found glue? I didn't find any glue. I found feathers, I think. But I didn't use them? Because. Boats don't usually have those?

[ that sounds on brand for finn.

kol frowns. it's evident enough that hope isn't the baby who's only a few months old. unless she can grow as quickly as that other hybrid of a child (who was fictional), he has a feeling allie's idea of alternate dimensions is very, very right. he'll think a little too hard on that later... for now, he's focusing on family.

glancing over his shoulder, he notices a few spirits watching them intently, almost excited to see them take a boat to water. ]

Let's go for a walk. [ he touches her elbow. ] You can tell me as much as you want.

[ jason's not wrong—his boat's quite good (not that kol is an origami expert). it's bound to make the spirits pleased with jason's efforts in sending a good boat off to… wherever the lake's water goes.

out of all the mikaelsons, kol is the one to notice the details… most of the time. it's with a frown he acknowledges the greek he can't quite read. ] What's that?

[ narrowing his eyes, he tilts his head ever so slightly. he'd reach out and grab the boat so he could read it, but that'd be just rude—especially if a spirit had been the one responsible for folding a very crisp looking boat. ]

[ oh, yes, he knows quite well about how dangerous leaping can be—it's why he does it quite often. he's been wanting to find meaning in so much; perhaps that desperation is why he has always wandered into corners or been shoved into a coffin. perhaps the point of everything isn't to leap but to do something else.

it's all a bit too deep for kol, who is already feeling strangely vulnerable writing down his own name. it'd be easy to make a joke about it—he's simply making fun of the fact he's dead again—but his heart wouldn't be in it. ]

Life's definitely complicated. [ with a glance at the boats floating in the water in front of them, he shrugs a shoulder. ] Or unlife—whatever this is. It's a good idea having a little festival like this, but… [ he sighs, finding that act is far more relieving than this activity. ] Putting a boat in a water isn't going to make what you want to let go any easier to let go.

[ If he didn't mouth off so much?

The look Riku gives M.K. - narrowed eyes, a chin tipped just so - says two words with so much less:

Make me.

Unfortunately for the both of them, any intimidating effect of their face-off is thoroughly diluted by the cluster of hopping, chirping forest spirits gathering around their legs. It's hard to keep it going in the face of such a ceaseless onslaught of these guys being weirdly cute while also probably capable of tearing them all into small pieces when gathered in such numbers.

Riku is the one who relents first. ]

Maybe. Ask my friends yourself.

[ Riku stoops, his eyes sweeping over the smaller spirits. One of them offers a gnawed piece of paper, causing his expression to gentle into something that's a little grossed out and pretty amused about it. ]

I'm visiting after we're done here. [ He peers up through the pale veil of his long bangs. ] You should come.

[Quentin......... Kakyoin can't help but grin a little, amused, but he has the decency to look away at, uh, some lanterns in the distance while he does it. The perfect crime.]

Boats aren't usually made of paper and carrying rocks, either. I did find glue... it kept the head on.

[A sort of oval with a happy face on it, that head. Very accurate turtle art.]

Well, regardless - I like to paint sometimes.

You. Glued the head on.

[He deadpans, looking up sharply and very surprised. Quentin had thought it might have been some kind of elaborate folded piece of paper that ended up looking like a turtle. There used to be things like that on his pinterest page for ages. Which leads him to- Kakyoin doesn't know about Pinterest. Or Facebook or Twitter or any of the other dozens of internet pages that pretty much defined his life before he came to Brakebills where cellphones and laptops had a nasty tendency to just not work. Kakyoin doesn't know about YouTube.

Mind. Blown.]

Oh, uhm. Paper boats are? Or from newspaper, or that's what my dad used to tell me. I don't-- but hey, cool [good god, Quentin, stop being lame] that you can paint. I made a map once, that's about it. I've never really been good at things like that? My mom used to say it's because I just break things.

[That's not usually how people react to her curiosity. That's nice.

But after the girl's explanation, Jo nods silently. It makes sense. If she had made one for everyone...Well, her pile wouldn't be this big, but there would have been more than two boats.]

It's hard here. [She wouldn't say that out loud to many people. Or probably anyone else.]

_{[That is the look of a man who's finished digging a grave and about to bury you in it. Knowing as little as he does about how true that really is, he's glad to see the other can get as good as he gives. He'd have to think less of Riku if he bowed too easily under pressure.

To M.K.'s rather biased perspective, everyone here seems on the soft side until proven otherwise.

But that's... not the kind of retort he'd expect, though. He's not sure it's a retort at all. He cocks his head in a show of uncertainty. His friends? The band of young people he's seen him with from time to time? Close to his own age, if he's not mistaken, and some so close in appearance they could be twins. If he's also not mistaken some are gone now (maybe explaining why Riku's here at the water's edge).]}

Why?

_{[Why is he inviting him places, and also, why would M.K. want to do that?

And in case Riku was wondering, he's absolutely asking that while standing back and being zero help with Riku's spirit fan club. Bother your mom, kids.]}

[Yes but when did Crowley ever do anything that involved intelligence or self-awareness?]

It probably means you'll need to start wearing bug repellant soon.

Which I wouldn't put down as a win.

[ Riku didn't have an easy time of it, but eventually learned the lesson that you pick your battles; he goes along with what the spirits try to hand him, grants them this sheet of paper of his own to rip up and gnaw on or whatever else the little spirits choose to do with it.

Maybe he'll even keep the product of their work, float it in honor of the spirits who were so gripped with the fight part of fight, flight or flee that night that they couldn't help but die.

Like a lot of people here, they deserved better, he thinks. ]

Because you can handle yourself.

[ He doesn't really answer. ]

But, hey- if you're afraid, stay here. Doesn't make a difference to me.

[Jo considers the question for a moment, still looking out over the lake before she turns to the woman to answer.]

They know we lost people too. Or that we're lost. [After all, they're all dead, right? It's kind of a time to mourn the lives they lost. She had a few minutes to do that before the bomb but not long enough.

She didn't make a boat for those she misses. It felt kind of silly to do that for people still alive.]

And it might help us all reconnect.

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EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

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Re: at the shore