EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

[worthallthis]

[Not Earth. Huh. That explains why the Soldier didn't recognize the language. (There's a little tiny part of the Soldier in the back of its mind that is repeating "holy fuck holy cow an alien holy fuck holy cow he's an alien" over and over again. The Soldier ignores it.)]

The navy are the ones who sail on Earth. The marines are supposed to be a more versatile branch.

[Which ought to clue Rosinante in that the Soldier is also from Earth, without it having to say so directly.]

Rastus gets us things?

[That's useful to know. It's not sure a bird-man would know much about sniper rifles, and the Soldier isn't really used to asking for things... maybe it can practice a little first. With the bird-man. (Somehow that stupid little part in the back of its brain had not assigned the word "alien" to the bird-man, and thus had not gotten quite as excited about him. Weird.)]

How does Rastus get them?

[callada]

[Clue him in it does, and he nods. That sounds like what Gene had described. Probably there's no distinction in his world because the options that don't involve sailing are pretty limited. The Marines are a navy, and an army without some aquatic element would be awfully stuck.]

Wish I knew. They come on the ferry when new people arrive, which means he knows how to communicate with whoever drives the boat and can order supplies, but nobody's managed to get a straight answer from him on the subject as far as I know.

[worthallthis]

No one drives the boat. We looked. There aren't any guards on the controls, either, or any crew.

[Unless, of course, there's another set of controls below, which the Soldier is starting to wonder about. And of course the option that would be the most helpful:]

It may be on an automated course. But that means there must be someone elsewhere who loads it.

i

[otrazhenie]

Hours have passed before Elena moves from her place by the water, a feeling of peace settling with her as she watched her little boat disappear among the others that spread out across the dark water. The sadness is still there, grief still clinging to her like a second skin, but the weight on her chest has eased, that pressure no longer taking her breath away with each resurfaced memory.

She has no idea what time it is, though it doesn't seem to matter much with so many people still about, including one whom she recognizes from her first days here. After a moment of debate, she approaches quietly, kneeling down again when she's close but not too close.

"Hi."

[worthallthis]

"Handler Elena." That's a very polite greeting, of course. The Soldier has been keeping an eye out for her and any tasks she might want it to do, but it doesn't know where her house is, and hasn't managed to catch her. Maybe now she will have something for it to do.

After it finishes with the little square boat, anyway. It is currently marking the edge of the paper with its now-signature little red star, matching the one on the metal shoulder. It's made a few of these so far, and while it doesn't entirely understand the point of the ceremony, it makes the spirits happy, and makes a peaceful feeling to watch them bob along.

And because civilians like conversation, and it's feeling up to it, it asks, "Are you well?"

[callada]

Right. And what Rastus and the others who've been here a while claim is that the ferry comes from someplace outside this world, just like we do ourselves. I want to know how Rastus can communicate with people in a place like that.

[Since then, who knows what doors that would open up. The ability to talk to other worlds? Could he send messages back home? Could they get help?]

[otrazhenie]

Handler. It's a title that sets her teeth on edge and serves to reaffirm the assumptions she'd made during their first meeting. His past was not kind, which makes her only more determined to show him that kindness now, as much as she is able.

"I'm okay," she answers without hesitation, and after a moment she's surprised to realize that it's true. She feels... lighter somehow, and she hadn't even realized it until that moment. Watching him make that little star, she asks in turn, "How are you doing?"

She hasn't seen him since that first day, keeping mostly to herself while learning what she could of this place. Now she regrets that time lost between them.

[worthallthis]

So do I. Has anyone tried to ride it back the way it came?

[Because it knows Handler Crowley still wants to commandeer the ferry and try to escape on it. It'd be good to know if anyone tried that before.]

[callada]

Not that I know of. Sounds like an adventure.

[Sounds like exactly the sort of thing Winters would tell them not to do, which in his mind suggests it's probably worth trying. He respected the man, but he was a little too conservative about safety. If nobody pushes the boundaries, they'll just sit here until they all get eaten up by the darkness.]

[worthallthis]

"Operating at high functionality." It sounds actually vaguely satisfied to say that. It's nice to not be quite as afraid as usual, not as hungry, not on a mission to kill someone. "And partaking in arts and crafts."

Which sounds ridiculous, but you know what, it doesn't care right now.

[otrazhenie]

She smiles at that, both grateful for a reason to smile and glad for the reason itself. There's something about the way he says it that strikes her as a good thing, on top of simply saying anything at all. He hadn't been too talkative when they'd first met.

"I made one of them too earlier." Glancing out toward the water, she can't tell which it is anymore, the darkness playing with her vision despite the glowing light within each boat. "Is yours for anyone in particular?"

[worthallthis]

[That seems dumb. It was the first thing the Soldier thought of when Handler Crowley wanted to get back to their lives. (Or their deaths. Though the Soldier doesn't have any doubts that if it goes back to its death, handlers will have it back in cryofreeze for recovery before any actual afterlife can happen.) Rather than an adventure, it says,]

It seems like a sound strategy. Has anyone spoken to Rastus about it?

[worthallthis]

That makes the Soldier pause and glance in her direction-- not meeting her gaze, but looking in vaguely the direction of her face. It doesn't answer, but it's probably pretty obvious it doesn't know what she means.

When it started doing this, the spirits had shown him what to do. No one had actually explained what they were doing it for.

[callada]

[He shrugs, and the feathers on his coat bristle as they raise, making him look all the more like a too-tall bird. Sadly, that is all he really has in common with Rastus.]

I haven't a clue. There's a lot of people here. Maybe someone has, but I haven't heard about it. Hell, maybe someone's even tried, though that probably would've made the bulletin.

[worthallthis]

[Someone ought to. The Soldier isn't sure that someone ought to be it. It'll have to think about it. Instead, it says,]

The bulletin would tell us about that.

[Actually it's a question, even if it doesn't really sound like it. There's been one "weekly bulletin" since it's arrived here, but there wasn't much to it.]

[otrazhenie]

Oh. He doesn't know. Maybe no one had explained it to him; the spirits aren't exactly a chatty bunch. But it's okay, she can help him understand.

"Back home, my friends and I did a ceremony like this," she begins, watching the water so he can process the information without her seeing any reactions. It seems like a good thing to do, to give him that space. "We had paper lanterns then that we lit so they'd float into the air. We each lit one as a memorial, to remember people we'd lost."

She looks down at her knees then, at the little stones on the ground and the edge of the water that moves so slightly. "I lit one for my parents, my aunt Jenna, all the people my friends had lost... And for myself. For everything I'd lost, and everything I could never be. And that's why I did it tonight, too. It's meant to help us heal by acknowledging that loss and trying to let it go so we can move on from it."

september 6

[tribridfreakshow]

[She hasn't quite figured out what this little get-together is, which is the only reason she's here at all. A gathering of people sometimes means trouble, after all, so when she figured out it's some sort of...funeral thing, she wants to get away immediately.

Unfortunately, the crowd makes it a little harder than she'd like to escape. So when a boat is suddenly forced towards her, she pushes it away, shaking her head.]

I don't want one---

[And then she realizes who's trying to give it to her, her eyes widening slightly.

Maybe she should really leave her room more often...]

[worthallthis]

The Soldier listens patiently, expression edging a little into a frown, almost distressed. "I didn't know," it says finally, and though its voice is still mostly flat, it's softer. Uncertain.

Does that mean it should stop making the little boats? It doesn't have anyone to acknowledge. (Hahahahaha. Haha. Ha. Yeah, pal. Nobody at all.)

[otrazhenie]

She looks over at him then, catching the changes in his tone and expression. Leaning forward a bit to make sure he can see her, she offers him a reassuring smile and a little shake of her head.

"It's okay. It doesn't have to mean the same thing for you. If it makes you happy to do it, that's all that matters."

[worthallthis]

Happy is an overstatement. The Soldier isn't sure it knows how to feel happy. But it's been... calm. This past day or so of making little boats on each revolution around its patrol. The spirits haven't seemed to mind that it hasn't dedicated each boat to anyone.

And one of its handlers is saying it's okay. It puffs out one brief breath, almost a sigh, almost a huff, and nods. If she says it's okay, then it will keep making little boats. "I have never created anything before," it offers. "It's. New."

[otrazhenie]

Elena isn't sure she knows how to feel happy anymore. If she's even capable of it with all that she's lost. A piece of her is gone forever and all that's left is pain and emptiness. She has to find a way to exist with that.

"Do you like it?" she asks with complete openness and no clear expectation in her voice or expression. She's curious as to his answer, though she's fairly certain she knows what it will be.

[worthallthis]

Everyone's capable. Even the two of them. Just gotta re-learn it, that's all.

There was a reason the Soldier had said "new" rather than "good". It looks at her sidelong again, and says blandly, "I do not like or dislike things." It knows better than to admit to things like that, even if Elena seems like a decent, almost friendly handler.

Sorry, Elena.

[otrazhenie]

Well, that was certainly telling. Another box checked, a piece added to the puzzle of who this man was before all of this. The answer as a whole still eludes her but what she can put together is... disconcerting.

"If you don't mind it, then maybe we can find you some more things to do like this," she suggests carefully, offering an option that wouldn't require a commitment he wasn't willing to make. "Something useful but also creative. I'm sure there's something around here like that."

[worthallthis]

Clever lady. The Soldier can see what she's doing, but you know what, it finds it doesn't mind. "Performing defined tasks and acquiring news skills are both appropriate." It returns to the current task, finishing filling in the little red star with the marker. That's not a smile. But it is a bit of crinkling around the eyes.

[otrazhenie]

She's not always the most stealthy when it comes to this sort of thing, but her heart's in the right place and he seems okay with her little plan. That's a start.

A few moments of silence pass before she speaks again, something urging her to say the words aloud that she'd only written before. "Thank you again for offering to help me."