inthenightmods: (Default)
In the Night Moderators ([personal profile] inthenightmods) wrote in [community profile] logsinthenight2019-09-06 04:19 pm

EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON


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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worthallthis: (look up)

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier | OTA

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-06 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
I.

For lack of anything better to do, between occasional tasks for its handlers or other people that wind up temporarily in its orbit, the Soldier makes regular patrols around the cleared areas of Beacon, two or three times a day-- or a night, or indeterminate amount of time until it gets hungry enough for a meal or tired enough for a nap. That brings it down to the harbor early, pausing to stare for a long moment at the spirits.

The spirits aren't human. They aren't handlers or techs or targets. They just are. So when one comes up to pat at the Soldier's boot and scamper down to the water and back, obviously trying to lead it down to the pile of glowing stones and paper, it follows, bemused rather than alarmed. Three little spirits-- one dog-sized but mousy-looking, one a creature that looks like a miniature horse with paws instead of hooves, and one almost human-like but too small and spindly to be considered a threat-- show the Soldier how the boat is made and what they want done with it.

Defined tasks with a pleasant outcome that seem to make the spirits happier, with no actual conversation required. This is surprisingly soothing. So while it continues its patrol around the village, every time it swings back around to the harbor, the Soldier stops to send another little glowing rock out onto the water. It almost smiles. Almost. At the very least, it looks more at ease each time it kneels by the water and carefully folds paper, and doesn't twitch too badly when actual people approach.

Each little boat is marked simply with a red star, like the one on his metal shoulder.


II.

The Soldier hadn't even realized the unnatural nature of the silence until the insects come back. When it first hears a sound, it stops, looking around warily... but finally places the sound as "cricket". Interesting. More data required.

So it lingers by the edge of the forest between patrols just to listen, once or twice with one of the spirits from the lake-shore sitting at its feet. During one of its pauses, it can even be found with its tablet out, attempting to find an app that will record the sounds.
Edited 2019-09-07 00:27 (UTC)
paletteswap: (Before the battle)

1

[personal profile] paletteswap 2019-09-07 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Kuai is simply standing by the lake watching the small lighted boats as they sail away to eventually become waterlogged and sink. It's oddly serene, though his mood is morose rather than uplifted. Idly he wonders if the rocks will continue to glow when they're at the bottom of the lake.

"What does the star signify?" He doesn't turn to look at the Soldier, but he's close enough that it's probably who he's talking to.
worthallthis: (Default)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-07 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
The Soldier is still filling in the red on this star when the question comes. It pauses a moment, not looking back either but gauging distance and potential threat out of the corner of its eye. Then it shrugs, shoulder glinting in the dim light of their lanterns. "I don't know. It's just there." But it does seem to work for a signature of sorts. Nobody else is wandering around with stars on their shoulders, or anywhere else for that matter.

The Soldier is not exactly known for being artistic. This is about as creative as it's been allowed to be outside of tactics in a long time.
paletteswap: (I'll end you)

[personal profile] paletteswap 2019-09-07 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
Kuai is still wearing all his armor, still diligently tucking all those knives into every conceivable space even though he's only had to fight once since he's been here. Old habits die hard for warriors who've trained their whole life for combat.

"No meaning? Hm. Just like everything here. It seems fitting." It's appropriate actually. Nothing makes sense, nothing has meaning.

He goes to grab another sheet of paper, diligently folding a boat of his own. "I'm Grandmaster Kuai Liang."

worthallthis: (thinkingsad)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-07 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Potential threat. But not acting threatening, and the spirits nearby don't seem perturbed. So the Soldier keeps the metal arm ready for defense, but otherwise doesn't stop from completing its little red star on the little paper boat. Kuai will get a similar sort of feel from the Soldier, despite the relative peacefulness of folding paper and drawing stars: predator, well-trained, alert, no wasted movement.

"Soldat," it answers. If Kuai speaks Russian, it will translate to "soldier", but it's intentionally meant as a name. Of sorts. A cover name, one that won't get the Soldier in trouble or make it start to think it might be a person. A safe thing to give civilians (or potential threats) who want something to call it.

Then, because it's curious, and the people here do seem to like to talk, the Soldier asks, "Why is having no meaning fitting?"
paletteswap: (Ready)

[personal profile] paletteswap 2019-09-07 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
The language isn't familiar to him so he takes the name at face value.

"I thought upon arriving here after death that there would be some purpose to this place. Some meaning to it. A reason for this place having brought us all together. But the longer I am here the less certain that seems. It feels arbitrary, and meaningless."

He holds the glowing rock in his hand for a moment, closing his fist around it. There's a brief second where his hand glows with a blueish hue and the temperature around him chills, and when he opens his hand again the stone is surrounded by ice; the soft amber glow now a dull blue. Without taking his eyes off it he continues, "It's as if we are searching for answers to a puzzle without even knowing how many pieces there are."
worthallthis: (confused)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-07 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
There's something in the back of the Soldier's brain that says, Holy cow. And it's staring. Definitely staring. Because that's ice. The guy just made goddamn ice on the palm of his goddamn hand.

The Soldier-- as someone who has been frozen solid and thawed more times than it can count-- isn't sure whether to be fascinated or terrified. (Let's not be silly; of course it's both.) "What did you just do."

Maybe the Soldier will get back to philosophy in a minute. First things first, find out what the fuck is going on with ice-man here.
paletteswap: (Second thoughts)

[personal profile] paletteswap 2019-09-12 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
Before responding he sets the glowing, frozen stone in the boat and lets it set sail into the lake. A tiny beacon of light to add to the others slowly making their way out onto the water amidst the waves lapping at the shore.

"I froze it." He's still watching the lake rather than the man next to him, but eventually he turns to face him. Holding his hand out palm upright his fingers are quickly enveloped in a swirling blue mist that coalesces into a small ice orb. He lets it sit there for a second before he crushes it and lets the pieces fall to the ground.

"I used to be called Sub-Zero. In a time before here."
worthallthis: (hand)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-12 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
Sub-zero. Like the Winter Soldier. Or Captain America. (Probably more like Captain America. It isn't like the Soldier got to pick its code name. And this man is definitely not like an Asset.)

The Soldier watches the pieces of ice fall with a blank expression. "How much can you freeze." Because. Well. The Soldier has been frozen a lot. And now it's got that whole thing going on in the background where its brain is warring between wanting to find out first-hand because cryo is fucking familiar, and wanting to back the fuck away and maybe shoot the guy. The only outward signs are the very intense way it's staring at Kuai's hand and how the plates in its metal left are are starting to click together and whir softly.

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otrazhenie: (201)

i

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-09-11 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
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: (but i did it)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
"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?"
otrazhenie: (058)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-09-11 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
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: (friendly)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
"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: (086)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-09-11 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
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: (confused)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
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.
otrazhenie: (054)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-09-11 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
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."
worthallthis: (regret)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
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.)

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shadowsran: (Default)

insert wildcard

[personal profile] shadowsran 2019-09-11 08:45 am (UTC)(link)
Misty's feelings on this event are...mixed. Ideally she'd have sat it out, but it presents too great a risk of being misconstrued as cold. It's a good sentiment. An important one, even, but she's been on the reverse end of this - she's had her vigils - and it's all an uncomfortable reminder that it does nothing. These strangers won't know or feel it. She finds the notion of loosing boats for strangers a touch insulting. Nothing she would want in their position. So respects come more in the form of being present at all, and reflective staring at the lake.

Which turns, after a half-hour, into origami. It's slow going, something she hasn't done since she was a kid, but...pleasant. Poor lighting, nothing even to fold on, but she thinks of it as a challenge.

A familiar face on the periphery, she would guess retreating from a released boat, catches attention. He seems to err on the side of quiet. Rather than call out, she drums up a smile and waves a fox-red square of paper in his direction.

"Hey, you."
worthallthis: (friendly)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Definitely a familiar face. The Soldier stops by Handler Misty's house about once every twenty-four hours to check for jobs she might have for it to do (once or twice it's done so more often, out of a low-level desperation for something to do). Even if those jobs are often small and well beneath the level its training, it doesn't care. It's something to do.

The past day or so hasn't been one of those times, because between other tasks, it's had the little boats.

At her voice it changes the angle of its path to intercept without missing a step. "Handler Misty." There's not a smile, the Soldier still doesn't smile. But there's a slight relaxing of expression and shoulders, and the metal arm makes a brief rippling of plates as if saying hi, too. She's a good handler, hasn't even tried to hurt anyone yet, not even the Soldier itself. It's nice. Helps that the whole little boats thing makes it feel more calm, too.
shadowsran: (Default)

[personal profile] shadowsran 2019-09-11 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
There likely isn't any point in protesting the 'handler', so she opts not to. Later.

"Paying respects, or just passing by?" She asks, dividing focus between him and the paper she's working between her hands. He's solemn enough and active enough she could imagine a case for either; and it's her best bet for small talk. A stone's throw from 'how are you'.
worthallthis: (thinkingsad)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey, if she told it not to call her that, it wouldn't. That's an order, after all. (Wouldn't stop it from calling her that in its head, though.)

"Just making little boats," the Soldier answers. "I don't have any respects to pay." Thankfully Elena already gave it permission to keep going when it learned the real reason for all this, so Misty doesn't have to deal with its confusion and dismay at the discovery.
shadowsran: (Default)

[personal profile] shadowsran 2019-09-11 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
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.
worthallthis: (smilesmall)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-11 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
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.
shadowsran: (Default)

[personal profile] shadowsran 2019-09-12 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Nonplussed, Misty shrugs. "Can just keep it, if you want. Not really a full decoration, but this place could do with more splashes of color." There's a slowly-forming zoo on the sand in front of her, so it isn't as if she'll be wanting for any currently or in the future.

"Or for luck? I'm saying it's lucky, as of now."
worthallthis: (look up)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2019-09-12 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"If you want" isn't a thing the Soldier actually gets to do, so that's a nice sentiment but not one it can act on. It eases into a crouch to examine her other offerings, balancing the first one on its palm still. "How do you make these?" There's an actual question mark in its voice and everything.

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