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'd hope so, or we're definitely going about this the wrong way.

[The trilling does sound like a question, though, for all he's inclined to slap human language conventions onto musical spirit-speak. Hmm!]

I think they want you to play for them again. I'm interrupting.

You're not, though. And uhm I can play and talk? Not at the same time, but-- [yeah that was a stupid thing to say, but Quentin plays the ocarina again, keeping his eyes on the spirits as he does it, trying to see if they come closer or moves further away depending on what he's playing.]

You found clothes. Did you find a place to stay, or?

[Don't just ask people if they're squatting in the square, Q. And he busies himself with blowing the ocarina again.]

[Quentin... he's trying and that's endearing, in its own way. Kakyoin shifts to lean a little and look at the spirits, curious about their reaction as well. Totally subtle about staring, as usual.]

I did— one of those... [he holds his hands up in a little triangle shape, because he has no idea how to describe an A-frame, he's never seen these goofy little houses before. But that one.] Tiny houses? My friend picked it out, but it will do.

Well, as long as there's a bed, it's fine. Right? [Walls were a good thing, too. And a roof, but starting to list all the basic things about a living space seems just a bit too weird, and Quentin snaps his mouth shut, fingers busy twisting around the ocarina.]

Yeah, my friend found somewhere, too. It's uhm, maybe it's the same as yours? Because it's a triangle house? A cabin, really. Not much space but it's enough and really, no one knows just how long we're going to have to stay here. I hope it's not forever. [The spirit trills at them, the voice soothing and soft in the dark night and Quentin huffs a breath before sitting up a little straighter.] I really hope it's not forever.

[Ah- you know, he's not going to say it out loud, but some part of him is relieved to hear Quentin has a friend around. He just seems... skittish, that's all. But never mind that, put a pin in that for later, ahem.]

I can't imagine it will be. [Because the Keeper will get rid of them one way or another, but--] I'm pretty confident something will have to change eventually.

[yeah! positive thinking!]

Yeah, I was afraid of that. I don't know where-- uhm, when? you're from? But where I'm from? Things changing is never a good thing. It's always-- always just one more horrible, shitty thing after another and just when you think it can't possibly get any worse? The universe proves me wrong. Like, every. single. time.

Just look at this place? I mean, I don't mind dying so much, but. This place? The threat of World Eaters and what not? And we can die again? What's up with that? Sure, some people came back, but. Uhm. [So not his thing to say anything about and despite not really knowing Daylight outside of a few texts on the screen, Quentin doesn't want to mention his... problem. So he just busies himself with blowing the ocarina again. At least it keeps his hands busy and stops him from saying too much.]

[See, this is why he's glad Quentin has friends... all this paranoia... He understands, but he doesn't think about so much, really.]

You're kind of a pessimist, aren't you? [he is just saying, but he holds his hands up a little placatingly a second later] Don't get me wrong, I understand... But I suppose besides dying, things have gone well for me, lately.

I'm from 1989, by the way. Japan.

Mmmm hmm, [Lowering the ocarina for a moment to throw a lopsided smile at Kayoin, before going back to staring at the pretty lights on the lake]

You found clothes and everything, things are looking way up for you. 1989 huh? So, this must all be very strange for you. I mean-- uhm, like texting? Because-- did you even have tv's? In 1989 Japan?

[Culturally clueless Quentin]

[My dude... my guy... Kakyoin looks at him for a moment, like, waiting for the punchline? But it seems like he is serious, so.

For another moment he thinks about pretending he's never even seen electricity before, but the faking it gag expired with not being a spirit. Still, he can't keep from sounding amused when he answers:]

Yes, I have a TV. I even have video games. [please....] Texting is new, though. And I've heard it's 2019 already for some people, which is... hard to imagine.

Yeah, it was 2019 for me. I mean, before? Who knows what the year is here. I talked to a guy, small with blonde hair? Very. Nice?

[Maybe Kakyoin knows who Aziraphale is. It is a small town after all.]

Oh, you had the classics. I mean, they might not be classics to you, but. Uhm, they will be? Were? There's this theory that classics are only classics because we all forget about all the bad stuff that came out at the same time? Which is why everyone remembers the past like this amazing place? But really, every decade was a shitshole while it was going on?

[Yes, someone who'll stand still for long enough for Quentin to get his thoughts out, even if they're not really that connected to anything they're talking about, but Quentin's mind work sin mysterious ways some times. Other times, it breaks a little.]

How are you liking the future so far? Or the past? This place?

[Small and blonde and nice isn't a wholly great description, but since he has met Aziraphale, yes--] He's English, right? We talked about traveling. And how it's supposedly 2019.

[Anyway that is a lot of words about video games, what do you think about Castlevania II, Quentin? He has opinions. Can a guy get a racing game here in the afterlife? Please @ whoever.]

The houses are tiny and the food is terrible. [flatly, then more pleasantly:] The company isn't bad, though.

Very english. [Which really was the best way to describe him, yes.]

The food isn't terrible? Unless you're used to eating something very fancy all the time? Because the food I've been having has been-- oh. Uhm, so I'm really not much of a cook, but I'm here with a friend? From my time? And he cooks. A lot. And it's really good, so. I'm sorry about your food? Maybe he'd share the recipe if you asked? I really have no idea what's in it, I just wash the dishes and stay out of the way most of the time. [Quentin shrugs] I haven't really met that many people. I'm at the library a lot. Reading? And, so's the English guy. And I've talked to you? So. But, it's not bad.

Did you make a boat?

My friend— Polnareff— [because there are too many My Friends now] He's good enough at cooking, and so am I... but there are only so many different ways to make a can of vegetables interesting.

[Get out more, Quentin. Meet the people. They are decent. As for his boat--he makes a face.]

I— I made a turtle boat.

Your friend should talk to my friend, because Eliot does something to those canned things, and it tastes amazing. I think maybe he's using something to flavor them with= I don't really know, I could mess up boiling water.

[There's really no need to meet people, because everyone is already dead, so what's the point? His eyebrows goes way up at that though.]

What's a turtle boat?

I'll let him know. I can make breakfast foods, but that's about it.

[Quentin please make more friends. Kakyoin's brow furrows; uh--]

It's a boat that looks like a turtle. I drew a face and everything.

[All of Quentin's own boats had looked like the kind a kid would make, large and triangular, with the rocks sitting in them like passengers and his letters for his friends, his dad and the ones who might never have even existed in the first place. But writing them a letter had helped. The overwhelming wave of calm that came after had helped more.]

Did-- wait, you drew a turtle face? How? Is-- are turtles something special to you? Not judging. Just asking.

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.

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?

[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.

[Kakyoin really has no idea what Youtube is, it's true. He's never had a cell phone and why would he want one. Truly remarkable.

He has no idea what Quentin looks so shocked about, so it's all he can do to try... a little smile? Yes? Hi?]

Painting isn't... Well, you can't 'break' a painting, can you? I've heard you don't even have to be good.

You can very much break a painting. If you, like, poke your arm through the canvas? That breaks it pretty much every time. But, yeah, where I'm from you don't really have to? I mean, someone sold a painting that was just a huge white piece of canvas. Nothing painted on it or anything.

[Smiling back because really, Kakyoin seems. Nice. Weird. But nice and making boats has made him feel all peaceful and calm about the fact that everyone here died, even that little girl.] Hey, you could have glued two rocks on the turtle face to give it glowing eyes.

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EVENT LOG: FOR EVERYTHING A REASON

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