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 pauses in her frenzied folding at the mention of moon cakes of all things… god… what date is it? She reaches for her tablet and activates the screen, staring blankly for a moment at the letters and numbers.
]

Oh… it is almost time.

[ Her mind goes back to the past. Of sitting on the roof with her mother, gazing up at the moon with cheap moon cakes shared between them. A fragment of a culture both of them could barely claim anymore.

Her heart aches. ]

She has to smile, at that. If not for solemnity, it might be something close to recreation. He would benefit from that.

A hand extends toward him, and when it opens there sits something paper and vaguely canine-shaped on her palm.

"For the next boat." Or him! Whichever.

The Soldier hesitates only a moment, mostly at the proximity, but then plucks the little origami gingerly off her hand, using its right rather than the metal one. No part of it actually touches her. "Thank you." It holds the little paper creature up to the light of it's lantern (currently tied to it's back with only a little light peeking over the metal shoulder) for a better look. It's actually... really fucking cute. "Though then no one will see it." Since these boats are disappearing into the bay, and even if there's somewhere for them to go, the paper probably won't last long enough to get there.

[the activity drew him near, but it isn't until she speaks - and knows what he's talking about - that Cao Pi glances to have a closer look at whoever he's so casually remarking towards.

Oh no another countryman? ...woman. Countryperson.]

It is. You celebrate the same festival I do?

[Maybe, for someone more normal, sadness would take route in her chest, discomfort that he doesn't seem to recognize her. Davina hadn't either, but that didn't bother her in the same way. This was Uncle Kol, who had actually bothered to at least facetime her when their family had been scattered across the world.

But she doesn't feel sad. Anger blooms in her chest, hot and painful; she knows it isn't his fault, but being here really needed to stop screwing with her.

She takes the boat, muttering a low 'incendia,' before it burns up in her hand. The fire doesn't give off any light, another great side effect of being here, so instead it seems to just crumble and scatter to the wind.]

Seriously? [She lets out a breath of bitter laughter.] You have no idea who I am, do you?

At the shore & Crafting
[It's a thoughtful gesture. There's a small part of her that doesn't feel like it's enough, but she doesn't know what would feel like enough.

Her duo of boats are simple, but they float even once she's placed a rock in each. One boat is decorated with what might appear to be snowflakes and no name. The second boat has a name and two dates. "Ellen Harvelle" might be visible, but Jo writes the dates small enough that they aren't easily read. She knows her mom would not want people to know her exact age. The rock for that boat gets a stealthy kiss before she places it.

She wades just into the water to set her boats adrift, retreating to watch all of the boats float.]

Anywhere else
[It isn't until she's leaving the Harbor that Jo notices the sounds of the insects. For most of her life, it was a background noise to be ignored, and for a while after the return, her brain does the same here.

She stands in awe, lantern hanging at her side as she rests motionless to listen.]

Do you hear that? [It's a whisper, but if she hears someone approach, she asks them. Is it a good sign? She's not sure. But it's new.]

[Jo watches for a moment before approaching. Poor Postmaster, she tries to distract him with a smooth rock she has in her pocket. It's not glowing, but it might be enough?

She turns her attention to Rastus after that, smiling softly.]

Thank you.

[Jo follows the song up the shore to find Daylight, pausing to listen until he finishes.

She wouldn't have pegged the robot, or whatever (or whoever) she should think of him as, as someone who would sing. It's a lovely voice. One of the things she misses here is music. There's no radio, she doesn't have her jukebox.

When he quiets, she clears her throat.]

You've got a lovely voice.

[Jo comes along when the pile is large enough to be obvious and pauses to look between the mountain and Caroline. She doesn't recognize the girl, but she is curious.]

Are these all for you? [Surely not.]

[ He observes that - the thread of tension going taut through the set of the other boy's shoulders, caught being... less than tough. It kindles amusement. Not exactly predatory, though Riku's competitive nature makes it tempting to pull on that thread. Not close enough for fondness, either.

The smirk lurking at the corner of his mouth arrives at No, knowingly. ]

They do that.

[ His aquamarine eyes narrow. ]

Especially if you're a total sap.

[ But MK points out the soil clinging to his knees and his knuckles, caked into the undersides of his fingernails. He drags a hand through his silver hair, rolls a shoulder, a casual flick and a nonchalant half-shrug at once. Cocky. ]

Wouldn't you like to know.

You out here playing lone wolf again?

That's- oh. [He takes the braid and looks at it dumbly for a moment, whatever he was thinking about completely gone from sudden braid? It takes him a moment to get what he's supposed to do, ah--]

Well— I'm terrible at playing the ocarina, so you may be on to something.

[But... okay, he'll try. He looks at the spirit, glancing down at the braid again before holding it out tentatively. He's very good at this...]

It might.

[Rosinante has noticed, of course - that tendency to give statements rather than ask questions. An odd quirk, and it makes him wonder just what sort of soldier the man had been. Sniper, assassin - yes, he'd said all that, but his tone coupled with the metal arm adds to the robotic effect, like he was a tool to be used by his superiors and not an individual.

He's not here to question the techniques of other militaries, but it puts a bad taste in his mouth.]

You said you'd read back on the network, though, right? So you've seen one or two. They used to come in paper form only. The Keeper writes them, so now that she's on the network, so are they.

Alright, alright, I know.

[Chill, bud. Just know that sheet robes are going to be in if the general store runs out of clothes.

But anyway, throat ripping!!] That's... graphic. I can't say I've ever had my throat ripped out, so I wouldn't know how that sounds.

[ well... that's a particularly passionate response to paper boats, isn't it? kol thinks to ask her what she has against them (and perhaps the spirits) until he finds the answer to his question. kind of.

this isn't the first time he's run into someone he doesn't remember, but it's a first when it comes to how young she appears to be. he's run with a younger crowd a few times over the centuries when he hasn't been daggered... but this doesn't feel like one of those times. usually when he forgets someone, it's him they're trying to light on fire. she doesn't seem like she has that as her goal.

he smiles at her, but it isn't with mirth or any suggestion he's laughing at her. it's meant to placate her, even when he suspects it won't. ] Sorry, darling. I've met a lot of people in my life and while you're certainly memorable... [ he doesn't remember. he doesn't know why he feels a little guilty over that. ]

[Crowley is walking some distance away from the blonde Nebraska woman. He stops when she speaks, and listens.]

Hear what?

Edited 2019-09-12 02:12 (UTC)

They didn't seem that specific.

[Though there were a few things that were weirdly specific, it recalls. The thing with the tablet. And the man taking in a plant spirit. But that makes a more interesting point, and the Soldier frowns just a little.]

How does the keeper know everything to write. She is stuck in the lighthouse.

[It has been on the lookout for electronic surveillance, but hasn't seen anything...]

[Good, he'd picked up on that little mystery quickly.]

She says the forest spirits bring her the news. Rastus writes her letters, and they deliver them. But if it doesn't feel like it adds up to you then you're not alone. There's a lot that's fishy about what she says and does.

About a lot of this.

[Of course, the Soldier is paranoid as all hell about a lot of things. While at the same time stupidly passive about others. It's a weird sort of existence.]

Did you see her? When you were connecting the lighthouse to the network.

Sort of. Just her silhouette in front of the beacon. Not enough to really go off of. I don't think I'd recognize her if she walked through town.

[Not that she can, if the lighthouse is effectively her lantern, and that's a claim he does believe.]

But she's sure chatty now that she has network access. Probably got lonely out there.

[She wants to stay mad, but the way he smiles at her has her deflating almost instantly. The magic bristling just under her skin recedes as she lets out a shaky breath, her expression closer to exhaustion than anything else.

It's the face of someone who has seen things beyond her years.

Her eyes drop to the ground, fingers curling into fists briefly before they relax and she just finally spits it out.]

I'm your niece. [She looks up at him, wondering if he's even going to believe her. Her uncle has been alive a long time so there's not telling if she's even been born yet in his memory.] Hope.

[She gives him her own exasperated smile, opening her arms in a very 'here I am' pose.]

Ring any bells?

Edited 2019-09-12 03:15 (UTC)

Not as chatty as some of you people.

[Oops did it say that out loud. (Of course it did. The Soldier only rarely says things out loud that it doesn't mean to.)]

I have been reading. Everyone writes a lot.

[It would be overwhelming if the Soldier wasn't hungry for information and things to pass the time. It is, however, rather baffling, that so many people are saying so many things, just out in the open like that.]

I see.

[And he manages a smile to match Daylight's attitude. If the guy doesn't want to dwell on something like that, he won't force it. He's right to remember the good parts, the few things he does know of them from the rest of his family.]

I'm glad you had people like that, though. Aunts and uncles and others to tell you about them. They won't be forgotten as long as you keep those memories alive, and that's what's important, right?

[ he scrunches up his face. ] Just one.

[ hope, the niece klaus was ready to keep away from him. hope, the niece he knew he'd never get to meet, all because of finn. she hadn't been much of a myth, but she hadn't been much of anything to him but a secret klaus never trusted him with. presuming she's grown up at the normal rate of any child (she was just a baby he'd only ever heard of)... this must be the weird dimension, frequency thing allie had been speaking of.

best not to question how his literal baby of a niece is now a young woman. less headaches, and kol doesn't particularly want to waste time questioning what's in front of him. she looks like hayley (thank christ) but has nik's unnecessary exasperation that only comes out with him.

does this mean nik actually admitted to his daughter he has a younger brother?

standing awkwardly despite his wish not to be, kol frowns for nothing better to do. ] It's good to see you've grown up. [ is that an uncle thing yo say? he doesn't know. ] It's actually good to see you. Nik never let me near you.

a. [Mary doesn't know how to make paper boats. She knows how to draw, of course, and spends a good deal of time personalizing a little picture for every one of her dearly departed friends. She loves them, she misses them, she's sorry that they died again, and that they haven't come back. She should cry, probably, or could cry, maybe, but that's not how she's feeling, exactly. Because it's more angry than sad.

They've left her.

But it isn't their fault, is it? They didn't do it on purpose. Mary sits with a quill-covered spirit roughly her own size, maybe a bit smaller, and watches it gnash at its paper with its pointed teeth. Without blinking, she mimics the action, and shoves one of her drawings into her mouth.]

b. [Either she gets tired of eating paper or has decided that her mashed-up paper creations don't suit her needs the way that she'd like them to, because eventually she leaves the company of her forest spirit friends and comes up to you, holding up one of her drawings of a lost member of their company.]

I need to make it a boat.

[This is her version of asking for help. Mary's just assuming that she's gonna get it. Look at her big sad eyes!]

c. [Standing quietly at the edge of the dark water, illuminated by the multitude of glowing pebbles, Mary says nothing for a long time. It's not until she notices someone's close by, and maybe not leaving, that she suddenly says what's on her mind.]

Where do you think they'll go?

[He sent out a few boats of his own, but they weren't for anyone here. The names on them are strange, foreign, and he hopes to god he got the spelling right. He hidden one carefully, sending it out swiftly, but that's neither here nor there. He only notices her on the way pack, climbing up the bank, dodging some of the larger spirits.

Mary's sitting with one. He doesn't like that, but he can't tell her what to do. He can, however, intervene when he sees her jamming paper into her mouth, jesus--]

Oye, oye-- don't put it in your mouth!

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EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

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everybody loves mooncakes!

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Jo Harvelle | OTA

Re: RASTUS

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Anywhere else

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Mary | OTA

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