sixthiterationlogs | 002 ♙ open

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002 ♙ open

WHO: Jess Brightwell.
WHERE: The inn.
WHEN: Sept. 7th.
OPEN TO: Anyone!
WARNINGS: Doomsday prepping because rude, mother nature.
STATUS: Open.

Jess wasn't normally one to spend time idling around when he had a canyon to comb through, but the growing ferocity of the earthquakes had shifted his priorities in an abrupt. Getting caught in the forest during yesterday's quake and nearly pitching forward into some brambles on account of the buckling earth had made it abundantly clear these things were getting worse--and the next one could do actual damage.

To think he'd brushed off last week's as an overactive imagination. Hindsight was 20/20.

He really didn't care to find out how bad their living situation would get if the buildings caved in on their already meager stores, and to that end Jess was determinedly preparing the inn in case of the worst case scenario. Being a pessimist had its advantages.

Jess spent the better part of the morning lugging around water and filling up whatever would hold it, then moved on to the unoccupied rooms in the inn, going through each one and making it less of a potential deathtrap taking down mirrors and moving heavy or breakable objects off shelves. His own room had already gotten a makeover: he'd pushed his bed far from the window, moving the rest of the furniture out of the way so he wouldn't be likely to get crushed by a shelf in the middle of the night.

Better. Not great, but better.

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Earthquakes weren't something that Jon was familiar with from his time in Westeros and the name, certainly, wasn't something he was familiar with but upon hearing it, it made sense: the ground shook, the earth quaked. He tucked that back into his mind for further use and shrugged a bit. He hadn't known that the quaking of the ground could potentially affect the water but now that he did, he would be mindful.

"Wouldn't be a good thing, if we suddenly had no water. I don't know about this place. It seems unnatural, somehow, as if the earth's taken a deep breath and is about to plunge into madness. That's not what I normally think about things but this place sort of drives me to it."

Jon didn't seem as concerned over the worst case scenarios as he did, but then he also knew he was worrying at them like scabs in the back of his mind he couldn't stop touching. Too many nights staring at the whorls in the wood of his ceiling contemplating all the things he wasn't doing back home, as well as here, were taking their toll.

But then Jon spoke again and Jess reconsidered. Maybe they were both holding their breath along with the earth, waiting for the shite to hit the fan.

"No, it wouldn't." The possibilities of horrible natural disasters were really quite endless. He sighed softly. "Everything's unnatural about this place. You had freak storms accompanied by a siren before I got here, then ruins appear where I didn't see any before, and now earthquakes? I have a hard time believing this is happenstance. It feels deliberate."

Somehow, some way, it feels like a sign. A big, cosmic poke in the eye.

"How's your place looking? You should think about stocking up if you haven't already."

"I will look to preparing for a loss of water," Jon said, nodding once in agreement. It wasn't a terrible idea, all told, and he felt stupid for not considering it before now. He would simply have to hope that something happened later rather than sooner.

"I have been stockpiling food as well. Most of it I take to the inn but I have other supplies. I can't imagine not being prepared for the worst."

Jess was relieved to hear it, in a way. He nodded back.

He didn't know these people well, but he was living with them, surviving beside them... It left him with a feeling of responsibility. That was a dangerous knife's edge to be on; tip too far one way and the feeling became attachment, putting him in the same position he'd been in with his postulant class. Caring about them. Losing sleep to nightmares of their deaths.

He didn't dare care like that again. All the same, he wanted them to have the best chance of getting out of this in one piece as possible.

"You and me both, mate. You're not the only one with a bad feeling."

"It feels as if something is waiting to break," Jon said. It wasn't in his nature to be so candid with someone he didn't know well but they were bound by this place, in a way, and it was not unlike being at the Wall. The bonds of war did strange things to a man and this was a war, of sorts.

"As if the world has taken a breath and it's only just now starting to let it out. It leaves me uneasy."

"Not knowing what our humble hosts are up to has that effect. I hate waiting in suspense, too," he replied with a little dry humor.

Jess could speak from experience. Home had been somewhat the same, a tense stand-off between his people and the Library, waiting to see if the other side would upend the board before they could make their play. He'd still take the Artifex and Archivist's threats and public displays of power over this... this string of agonizingly mundane days.

Here, weeks could go by with nothing happening, until suddenly an earthquake could take them out in the middle of the night. These weren't the sorts of battles he was used to fighting.

"I would rather just take it on head on," Jon said. "I can't fight a battle against the earth itself. I can't fight a war when there's no men, there's no siege, there's nothing I can get my hands on. This is madness."

It was nice to be able to admit that frustration to someone, even if it was someone he did not know all that well. He wanted to be able to fight it and beat it; how could he when it was the earth itself which had risen against them?

He rubbed his neck, the same wordless, deep-seated exasperation drawing creases in his brow. Jon could've been reading his thoughts and repeating them back to him verbatim.

Being able to predict the threat you faced was paramount in staging a defense--Jess knew that with the same basic understanding as he knew his ABCs. How could you predict an earthquake (short of expensive equipment they didn't have)? How could you defend against an earthquake, or people who controlled this place who never showed their faces?

They might as well have been passengers along for the ride for all the control they had. Damn right it was madness.

"You'll get no argument from me. It'd almost be a pleasant change of pace to have a kill squad walk out of the trees armed and ready. Better than an earthquake. You can outmaneuver one, but not the other."

"There is no outmaneuvering the earth," Jon agreed. "This reminds me of the winter. There is nothing to do for the winter except prepare for the onslaught except that this place isn't like winter. Winter has things you expect, things you can plan for. I have no idea what to plan for in this place."

It worried him, honestly, and he was glad that at least one other person shared his concerns.

"Everything," he supplied even-handedly, only half joking.

Realistically, of course, it wasn't humanly possible to guard against every potential kick in the teeth. It was the thought that mattered, which Jess expounded on with a shrug.

"We work with what we've got. We already know what they're planning--to keep us here as long as possible--so we can expect more quiet days at best, and more interference at worst. We keep the patrols going and do our best to secure the buildings and get an emergency plan in place for these earthquakes. Then I say prepare for colder weather when we can. Handle each disaster as it comes. Baby steps."

Jess had also been letting the unknowns eat away at him and he felt acutely how poorly he was practicing what he preached. All the more reason to say it.

The next words out of his mouth came with a firm, decided jut to his chin, though he still smiled. If he was going down, he was going down swinging. "Whatever comes, we'll deal with it. That's as simple as plans get."

"I'm not the type to give up on anything," Jon agreed. "And I won't let this place take me down. I want to be prepared for what is coming because I fear that not all of us are. The type of man that I am, I try to protect others. I try to put myself between danger and others. It makes it difficult here; how can I throw myself between an earthquake and someone I care about?"

At least Jess seemed to understand that to some extent. They would prepare for the worst and hope for the best; Jon could do nothing less and it seemed that Jess was the type of person who would do the same. He was a valuable asset.

"I will, however, prepare for the winter. That's something we know must be coming. It grows cooler every day. We must be prepared to endure it."

The type of man that I am, I try to protect others. Jess considered that with a scrutinizing sort of look like he were listening to a mission report that could be critical to remember for later. The look was free of judgement; he didn't project doubt over Jon's conviction.

In truth, he didn't sense any doubt from Jon over said convictions. He believed what he was saying. It was a little curious to Jess, used to self-serving motives and double-speak. Jess was making preparations to protect the members of their group, too, but he didn't advertise it as such. Brightwells weren't known for grand displays of selflessness; it wasn't a terribly desirable trait when survival of the fittest ruled the day.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were an idealist," he said. "We'll endure. Don't have much of a choice." For emphasis, Jess gave the waterskin a little shake. In all their time speaking, it hadn't leaked. "Not bad for my first attempt, right? What we don't know, we'll learn."

"Well done," Jon said, looking at the waterskin. It was something he'd used commonly enough in Westeros but hadn't seen here until Jess' attempt at making one. He was a clever man, Jess, and Jon tucked that bit of knowledge away for further use; it might be something they needed later on.

"You remind me of a friend of mine, someone in the Watch. He liked to be creative too, loved to read and learn."

See, Jon? Old dogs can learn new tricks, they can get through this.

For Jess' part, it's maybe more of a case of a young dog learning new tricks, but considering that waterproofing animal hide isn't something he's ever had to put into practice before this, he thinks getting this far is a sign that those of them here less experienced can grow the skills they need to keep up with the weather. That said, Jess is still grateful he's a fast learner. Very grateful indeed.

Jon's observation was surprisingly on point and unconsciously Jess' eyes flared with interest. "Oh yeah?" He didn't often think of himself as a transparent person, easy to know with his passions on his sleeve, but then didn't everyone think of themselves as more mysterious than they actually were? It was true, either way. Books and the endless troves of ideas contained within them had called to him from the first day his father had put an original book in his chubby infant hands.

"I don't think I know the term. What's the Watch?"

"The Night's Watch. We guard the Wall in the north of Westeros," Jon explained. It was strange to him that someone might not know what the Wall was but there were so many here who weren't from Westeros, that didn't know his world or his struggles.

"We defend the realms of men from Wildlings and Giants and gods know what else."

Jess was undeniably one of the ignorant souls who didn't know a Stark from a Lannister. He tilted his head in a clear look of question. Westeros? That wasn't a name he could remember seeing on a map, and he'd studied a lot of maps.

One thing did stand out. "So you're a soldier of a kind?" he asked.

A soldier that was part of a company fighting... giants. Actual, bloody giants. And the insane part is, that wasn't even the strangest thing he'd heard out of someone's mouth in this town.

"I am, yeah. I've been fighting for about six years," Jon said. He'd been with the Watch long enough that it felt like more of a part of him than anything else. He felt more himself with a sword in hand than anything else.

"It's strange being here. I haven't had to fight or command anyone. I've only had to be myself, which isn't something I've had to be in a long time."

"And the Wall is as self-explanatory as it sounds? A border and you're the border patrol?" It was a simplistic comparison, but it would get the point across, he thought. "Can't say we have much of a problem with 'Wildlings' or giants where I'm from." After a pause, he added, "As far as I know."

Time spent here made him feel like he knew a lot less than he'd thought.

"Six years isn't chump change. Is it true what they say, you can take the soldier out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the soldier?" he said, lifting his eyebrows. How was someone like Jon finding the adjustment? Saying it was ten shades of strange was probably still a bit of an understatement when the town itself was strange as all hell.

"It's hard to not be fighting constantly," Jon agreed. "It's hard not to always be on alert from a threat I know how to fight. This place is completely different than anything I've ever known."

He felt it was the same for many people here, all told, but he felt the differences very keenly; this place was as far from Westeros as he could imagine.

"We've got that much in common, whatever else. This place is a far cry from what I'm used to, too."

But Jess couldn't say the same about letting go of old threats. They were never very far from his mind, those things he'd been outrunning and the people he'd been outrunning them with. Some days it was like he was looking for an excuse to blame the Library for this, when it was at fault for so much already.

At least then he would be dealing with a familiar enemy.

"But you seem like you're doing all right for yourself. I've seen you coming back from hunting."

"I know how to keep us fed," Jon agreed. "I know how to survive. It seems that you do as well, judging by that waterskin."

It was a different sort of survival, ingenuity versus brute strength, but Jon could respect it. It was something that would take him far in the world. They needed minds like his as much as they needed bows like Jon's own.

That was high praise from someone who came from a pretty rough-and-tumble way of life, fighting mythical creatures like goblins and the like. If Jess had the town's residents convinced he could pull off the mountain man way of life like some kind of English Grizzly Adams, he must be doing something right... though some days his continued survival felt like sheer dumb luck.

"Fixing a leak? Sure, that I can do," he said, chuckling faintly, swinging the waterskin again so that the water sloshes. Didn't take a mechanic like Raven to patch a seam. "But if I had to make one of these from scratch I might be on your doorstep asking for tips. I was in training for the army before I wound up here. Basic bush training is a requirement, but I'd never so much as been hunting before I got here. Not even camping in the woods for fun. Put me in the city and I can find you the best price for a loaf of bread, but out here, surrounded by all this nature and quiet..."

It was about as far as you could get from the boom and hiss of steam engines, of crowds and the commotion of morning traffic. Made Jess wish his father had been the outdoorsy type. The only way Jess could picture Callum Brightwell holding an axe in one of his silk waistcoats was if the man was intending to put it in someone's neck.

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