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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I did, in that general store... They'll do in a pinch.

[They're no school uniform, he means, but he's located enough serviceable and plain clothes to retire the sheet. Progress! That he has also thrown in a pair of suspenders is just because he's a dweeb.

But more importantly: spirits. Kakyoin eyes the ones now just staring, raising an eyebrow; is this 100 percent safe? Should they trill something placating every thirty seconds just in case?]

How is the 'interpreting' going?

We weren't really in a position to try and communicate when they started trying to butcher us.

[When they started succeeding. The situation went from calm to tense to deadly so quickly, no thanks to Robin's efforts. Those strange, thin spirits are why he's always armed now. He hadn't worried too much about that the first month. He does now.]

[Obviously the Soldier doesn't know enough about this attack. It sits back on its heels and fixes Rosinante with a more focused expression. Not quite meeting his eyes, but still like the Soldier is ready to analyze the shit out of whatever the kid has to tell it.]

How did it happen.

You must have lost them early. I'm sorry.

[It's a guess. "Apparently", he'd said - most people know their parents well enough to not have to wonder at what they were good at, or be told by others about their gifts and hobbies.

Of course, maybe it's different with robots. How do they reproduce, anyway? Hm. But he notes, too, that the lack of knowledge might be something they have in common. His mother had sung to him sometimes, he thinks, but he barely remembers her voice.]

[The worst part is he's going to have to tell this story over and over again, isn't he? It's not like the stories from home of the butchery his brother imposed on innocent islanders, or the pirates he's killed in the line of duty. Nothing like the chaos and horror of his childhood, for all those stories can be left behind and never spoken of again. The forest spirits are something the new folks need to know about. First he clears his throat, though. Bends down to light a cigarette off the light of his lantern, then takes a deep breath of the smoke and regards this Soldat fellow with a frown.]

We had to get the Keeper back on the network. The signal doesn't reach all the way out to the lighthouse, so Winters took me and a few others out there with cables to connect her building up. We had several lookout groups tailing us, too, keeping an eye out through the whole forest in case things turned violent, but we'd hoped the spirits would let us be since we didn't mean them any harm.

It worked until the foghorn went off. Robin said she was trying to tell the spirits to let us go safely. For whatever reason, they took it as a sign to do the opposite. Winters had the back as we were retreating, so they got to him first. Five was the closest to him and he tried to fight them off. They tore Winters apart, and we dragged Five out of there but his injuries were too severe for him to recover from. The rest of us fought them off on the way back to town. We lost a lot of people from the lookout and defense teams. Lotta people dead, a lot more we never even found.

[Hrm. This is an odd one. Rastus tilts his head this way and that, inspecting Bucky before he speaks.]

Yes. It is just a stone. The light will fade. Hello.

It was mine.

[He says it matter-of-factly. This isn't a particular point of pride, but he's answering honestly.]

The Lighthouse Keeper helped. We do something like this where I am from. For the dead. Scrick.

[The Soldier dips its head, feeling... odd about the request. Not just making a request entirely, which is bad enough, but it feels like a silly request, on top of that. The light is nice, but it's how it feels in the hand.]

Thank you. I like the shape.

[Then it pauses, and adds at the end, the way Rastus did,]

Hi.

[There's a little something in the back of the Soldier's mind that wants that cigarette. How fucking long has it been since we've had a smoke? Stupid thought. It squashes the thought and focuses on the story.

And then it has questions.]

How did they fight? Did they coordinate their attacks together? Did they all attack at once? Did they use weapons or only themselves?

[It doesn't care about the deaths. (Well, maybe a little bit. A very little bit.) It cares about the tactics and what it can learn from them. The foghorn thing is weird, too.]

Really. [with genuine interest in his tone] I was curious, because you see, this month is the Moon festival, in which my people also set lanterns afloat on the water. But our reason isn't to honor the dead, but rather to help a goddess find her way to her lover.

[it's so dumb, generally speaking, but there's a spark of romance deep down in there somewhere that appeals to him. Or maybe he's just homesick]

It didn't feel coordinated. I don't think they're far above animals in how they think, and they don't have weapons or tools, just teeth and claws. The sort of thing that shouldn't be hard to deal with, but when you're in the trees, the darkness really closes in. Makes it hard to keep up with your enemies, especially when there's lots of them.

[But those sorts of questions that Soldat here is asking are the kind asked by someone used to fighting. So that's good, that's helpful - they need that, after their losses. So many of the people who knew their way around a battlefield were overwhelmed all the same, but nobody was expecting the forest full of creatures to turn on them so suddenly and so violently.]

You must have previous combat experience, huh? Military?

[Hopefully military. Someone who knows how to take orders and work with others. The last thing they need are mercenaries who want to run in alone.]

[But the librarian and postmaster are spirits, and they're intelligent enough. The Soldier doesn't buy that these are like clever animals-- even the ones here on the shore. They're not human (which it likes) but that doesn't mean they're not smart. So it chews on the explanation, looking into the middle distance, wishing it had been there... and nods once after a moment.]

Sniper, assassin, codename Winter Soldier. Property of HYDRA.

[The Soldier isn't particularly secretive about its former handlers. This may or may not be a good thing.]

[Property? Maybe that metal arm means he's some sort of advanced machine, like Daylight. Who knows - the technology of the other worlds is fascinating to him. Sure, there were robots and cyborgs back home too, but they were rare. It's not every day you get to meet someone like that.

So he accepts it, with a hint of a smirk.]

I keep introducing myself as a civilian. Not used to so many other soldiers in plainclothes but I guess none of us are really in active duty anymore, are we? I'm a commander with the Marines.

[Or, was. Until he betrayed them and died. But no big deal, right?]

If you figure out a way to snipe in all this darkness, I'll be awfully impressed. It's a shame the forest spirits don't carry lights like we do.

I don't even have a fucking rifle.

[It comes out as a grumble. The Soldier misses its rifles. Its scopes. Even with the limited light, there are other ways to make a shot.]

But I am definitely not a civilian.

[It's not even a person. Technically.]

Never worked with the Marines.

[There's a question in the statement. Tell it about the experience, Rosinante?]

Uhm, honestly? Not very good.

[A forest spirit makes a soft sound, a little like a song and Quentin tries to make the sound back, only it sounds off-key and slightly like scraping a fork down a plate the wrong way.]

It's going to shit. I mean, they don't seem dangerous? Now? But-- they killed people? And we killed them?

[And it's a good thing Quentin isn't a paranoid sort of person, because getting them all here would be a great way to get revenge. If anyone would want that. But he isn't and he only watches the spirits and the glowing boats.]

I didn't even know they had clothes in the store. I thought we'd have to-- that we'd all end up in leaves or, or homemade clothes made from upholstery or something.

[She's hotheaded, but what's the point here? They are all already dead. The thought of that just settles in with her later and it is just a sad, heavy weight. If they were alive, though, she'd definitively brawl him for her beliefs.

When you live in a tribe, you either craft or you walk around naked.]

The humans from where I'm from don't seem to know of that word. Or of 'thank you'. [Shadow priests. Shadow assassins. You know, standard fare that's out there slowly exterminating her kind just to get to magic.]

We are. [Her eyes move from him and onto the Lighthouse that's blinking red.] Until she does something stupid again and makes us turn on each other... [Xayah trails off and feels the spirit shiver underneath the cloak.]

[ daylight senses someone is nearby as he sings his song, long before the hand is touching his too warm frame. his winglets flick up, an acknowledgement of rick's presence. and now there's an immediate urge to address them, to greet them but- something in him decides against it. doesn't feel right to do that right away.

so he opts to, instead, watch the boats drift off into the night, their tiny glow against the dark backdrop doing funny things to daylight's core. (maybe because it reminds him of a place from long ago. back on a base where everyone had the best intentions but the worst executions, where looking out the window and peering into books was his only glimpse of stars like these-)

at least it gives him time to draw the song to its mournful but almost hopeful close. something about the final chorus has him ducking his helm, optics flickering while he tried to get the last words out:

can the circle be unbroken,
by and by, oh, by and by?
will i one day be allowed in,
in the clear skies and by your side...? ]

...

Hey... [ daylight tries to smile at riku's presence as he turns his helm to face his friend proper but it's- it's hard. even as peace fills him, something holds him back from fully enjoying it.

he sighs and decides that, maybe, honesty is the best policy here: ] It's been the Pits' fumes lately, huh?

[upon hearing the apology, daylight looks up at him. there's no denying that daylight is clearly... surprised: his brow is furrowed, his frown puzzled. almost like he's not used to people saying that if they found out about the statuses of his parents.

but then he relaxes and his smile is sad but- touched yet resigned. ]

Thank you. I- I'm used to it by now. I mean- I have to be. [ he pauses, trying to figure out what he can say without making this an uncomfortable case of oversharing and to provide some proper context to not leave his friend hanging. ] They were both long gone before I was old enough to form memories of my own. Dad and than mom.

Lotus paste.

[Oh he's hungry now. Thanks Cao Pi.]

I wonder if they know, if so there's only a few here who would see the relevance.

[mmm staight up lotus paste no substitutions...]

You have excellent taste.

[he looks around briefly, so as not to be caught gossiping about the spirits right in front of them] It's hard to say. For all we know they picked up the idea from some past person who was here and then gone long ago, and now they just do it out of habit.

[ At first, Elena doesn't want to participate in the little ceremony happening at the harbor. She's only just arrived, it doesn't seem right to grieve things that hadn't even happened here... but the assurance that it's alright is enough to get under her skin, to remind her of another time she'd honored the dead.

So she takes her place beside the others, choosing a design and making an attempt at folding the paper into the correct shapes. After her second try, one of the spirits comes to her aid, the strange creature exuding kindness as it shows her each fold and carefully helps her secure the little boat so it will hold its form and float above the water. And then it offers her a marker, gesturing toward another spirit who is covering their own boat in little designs — she accepts it with a small, sad smile, but instead uses it to write a string of names around the edge of the boat in rounded print letters.

Grayson. Miranda. Jenna. John. Isobel. Vicki. Aaron. Bonnie. Damon.

The last name takes the longest to inscribe on the paper, and she's close to tears as she stands with her construction and makes her way to the water, the paper lantern glowing softly in the darkness next to her own. She walks a little way along the shore, just far enough to put a bit of distance between herself and the others, before kneeling down to carefully set the little boat atop the water and give it a tiny push to send it on its way to meet the others.

She stays there, kneeling beside the water, watching the soft lights of the boats, for a long time. Hours maybe. Because for a while, at least, this is all that matters: letting go of the grief that has consumed her for so long. ]

Hmm.

[Well. It's all a bit of a crapshoot, isn't it. Kakyoin fiddles with his sheets of paper, not really committing to any one boat shape or another; just fidgeting.]

Does she have that much influence? I mean— I know, she can do whatever she wants to us, ultimately— but are many people firmly on 'her side'?

[Like, she doesn't seem... compelling, from Kakyoin's point of view, beyond "don't make her mad."]

There was someone here from another world called Earth - one of the people who went missing, actually. The Marines in his world were less marine than mine. I'm used to doing a lot more sailing. Then again, my world's mostly water and there are a lot of pirates to keep in check.

[He mentions Earth specifically, on the chance the guy before him might be from there too. It seems the majority here are. It's actually kind of rare to run into those like him, from some other world. Earth must be one busy place.]

Anyway, if you want a rifle, ask Rastus. I had a pistol come in for me on the ferry to replace the one I used to have back home, since it didn't come with me. He wasn't happy about getting me one, but even he knows we have to defend ourselves here.

[Kakyoin very nearly says something totally normal and cool like "anyone can kill people," but he thinks better of it and shrugs instead.]

Are you making fun of my sheet? I had to improvise.

[Maybe he'll need it again one day!! But he says it good-naturedly enough, finally moving to sit down and join Quentin in staring at these spirits. Politely, this time, as much as he can manage it.]

They seem to like the tentatively-positive attention, at least.

Is that... common, where you're from?

[Might as well ask, since Daylight sounds perhaps wistful but not upset.

It's certainly not unusual where he's from, for extremely unpleasant reasons involving violence and slavery. Many children grow up with their parents, but many are orphaned. His situation is unusual for its own reasons, but not because his parents died when he was a child. That part is more common than it should be. It's why his role as a Marine protecting villages and islands of peaceful townsfolk had been so important.

But there's so much he doesn't know about Daylight's world. Maybe he'll be alright with talking about it.]

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Page 3 of 19

EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

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this is so exciting to do ahh. /the boys./

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elena gilbert | the vampire diaries | ota

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