it's like playing the lottery with you ( OPEN )

[ethnobotany]

WHO: Beverly Crusher
WHERE: hospital, House 20, Inn
WHEN: Nov 4th and onward
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: will update as needed

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hospital - Nov 4th

Of all the things Beverly had expected to find in the hospital, it wasn't a red, sealed envelope. She was alone in one of the rooms, looking through their supplies. She'd turned around to pick something up and there it was on a table. It hadn't been there before. Frowning, she hesitated for a few seconds before reaching out to pick the envelope up and turn it over. It has a wax seal with the same insignia as the one on her backpack. Not a very comforting thought.

Slitting it open doesn't seem to produce any terrible consequences and she pulls out the letter inside. She doesn't really know what she's expecting, but this sort of letter, or these instructions, definitely weren't on the list. A frown crosses her face, one definitely of disgust and confusion.

"What in the world...?"

House 20 - Nov 4th-5th

As soon as she gets back to the house on the 4th, she builds up a nice fire and tosses the envelope and its letter inside. Whatever the Observers might want of her, she isn't about to obey. That isn't the type of person she is. When it reappears in her room, again when she's alone, on the 5th, she does the same thing again.

"Whatever you want, it's not going to happen."

She stands over the fire with her arms crossed, watching the paper curl and burn, until it's all a mess of ash and fire and she can't tell what is fire and what was letter.

Inn - Nov 6th

Eventually, she ends up at the Inn, throwing the next letter into the fire there, on the off chance that it was somehow the fire that meant it came back. Unfortunately for her, that doesn't seem to have much effect either, so she spends most of the 6th looks really put out and actually more than a little unsettled. Somewhere towards the end of the day, she returns with another, flops into a chair, and stares at the red letter she's set on the table. What do they want?

Comments

[fishermansweater]

There's unease about the people here, and then there's the very real consideration that it's cold outside, especially when a good part of the day's work involves hauling fish traps into and out of the river. Finnick is still cautious about a lot of the people here, but he no longer fears the Inn as some potential trap like he had when he'd first arrived. So because it's freezing outside, Finnick stops by the Inn after his evening rounds of his traps.

He's standing by the fire when Beverly Crusher comes in, looking more annoyed than he thinks he's ever seen her.

"That doesn't look like good news," he says, nodding towards the envelope she's staring at. Not that there's anything particularly alarming about the thing itself, except perhaps its color, but mail is hardly a regular thing here except from their Gamemakers. And whatever it is, it clearly has the usually friendly doctor upset.

[ethnobotany]

She definitely doesn't usually look this upset about anything, so she isn't all that surprised to find someone stopping her in her path. Not that she minds. Talking with Finnick is much better than worrying about the haunting letter. Speaking of that, though, she turns it around so he can see the seal and then offers the whole thing to him. If he'd like, he's welcome to look at it.

"It's like it keeps appearing for no reason," she explains, whether he takes it or not. "I found the first one two days ago in the hospital. I took it home and burned it, watched it smolder into ashes. The next day, another one appeared and I did the same thing. Now there's this one and I'd really like to burn it, too, but I thought maybe another fire might do the trick."

It's wishful thinking when the Observers are involved, but at this point she's willing to try just about anything.

[fishermansweater]

He doesn't pretend to know Beverly well, but he's spoken to her often enough to feel like he has some idea the sort of person she seems to be, and the look on her face says a lot even before she holds out the letter. That sort of tight-lipped hurt isn't usual for her.

The letter has the mark of their Gamemakers on it, on the seal. When she tells him where she'd found it, and how it keeps appearing, it's only years of carefully controlling his expression in public that stops Finnick freezing, or throwing the thing away in sudden disgust. He'd thought he'd found enough in this place to make it clearly not like Panem, but this is a wrenchingly familiar story. Not the way the thing keeps coming back -- or being duplicated and replaced, as he assumes is what's actually happening -- but the sudden appearance of a letter from their keepers here.

In Panem, it would have had the smell of roses, maybe a single bloom set aside as a reminder of its sender.

Finnick doesn't freeze, and he doesn't throw it away, but the habitual air of confidence he cultivates falters a little as he raises the thing to his face to smell it.

No air of roses. Of course. But it's an unspeakable relief, if for no other reason than that he's wearing Annie's leather-braided ring, the sign of the freedom he could never have taken in Panem.

"What does it say?" he asks as he lowers the thing, dropping his gaze in his habitual cover for emotional unease.

[ethnobotany]

She watches his reaction carefully, noting the minute changes in him as he looks at it and even lifts it to smell it. It doesn't smell like anything that she can tell and she doesn't know what he would be expecting, but either way she hopes it's not a bad smell he's picking up. Still, when he lowers the letter again, she holds her hand out, willing to take it back from him given his unease.

"It wants me to steal something of value from someone else and set it at the base of the peach trees in the other village," she explains, her face twisting a bit. "I won't do it. Whatever it is they think they'll get from me, whatever 'reward' they might give, I won't be a willing participant of something that hurts someone else."

It's disgusting to her, the idea that they would even try to get someone to steal something. What's their motive? Chaos? Torment? Upheaval? Are they trying to break friendships or test moral boundaries? It makes no sense. No reward can be worth any of this.

"I've been trying to burn it, but so far it keeps coming back."

[enterprisingheart]

Given that the Observers haven't previously been inclined to directly contact the people in the villages, the thought that they might choose to do so now isn't one that's occurred to Jean-Luc. Much less that they might be directly asking for something. On the other hand, coming home to find a fire already going is a little surprising, especially when he manages to come in just in time to catch Beverly's comment. And given that he can only barely tell that she's thrown something into the fire, it stand a little at odds with what he's come to expect.

"Whatever who wants?"

The expression on his face, if she should happen to turn around, is very much one of confusion, although if she should prefer to not answer he's more than willing to accept that as well.

[ethnobotany]

Beverly glances up at the voice, having not been paying much attention to anything but the small fire she's got going. She won't keep it up for long, as they do need to conserve fuel for the winter, but she'd wanted some way to get rid of the stupid letter.

"The Observers, I assume." She gestures at the fire, where the remnants of the letter are curling up and disintegrating in the flames. "I found a letter in a red envelope with the same seal on it that's on the backpacks we surface from the fountain with."

Not that this explains everything, but it's a start. She knows Jean-Luc will ask her more about it and that might be the best way to get her to talk about it all for now.

[enterprisingheart]

It's a strange thing to think about, the need to genuinely conserve what wood they have so that they can manage to survive the winter. Which he suspects is at least part of the intention behind making so that the houses aren't wired for heat the way he would normally be used to. But he doesn't begrudge Beverly her use of what they do have for this - it's a small fire, and if the amount of wood needed to keep that going for a few minutes is enough to make the difference between making it through the winter and not making it through the winter than they have bigger problems on hand.

"I'm assuming it didn't have anything good to say?"

It's the only reason he can think that she might have been inclined to burn the letter, although he can't imagine what it would have needed to say in that case. Just that her actions don't exactly bode well, regardless.

[ethnobotany]

She only wants to keep the fire going as long as it takes to properly burn the letter. Once that's done, she sets about banking it to let it go out naturally. If it takes too long, there's water she can douse it with.

Jean-Luc's words receive a shake of her head as she works. "No. It wants me to steal something of value from someone else and leave it at the peach trees in the other village. Supposedly if I do this, I'll be rewarded."

Given her tight tone of voice, not to mention what anyone with eyes can gather from her personality, she's not at all inclined to obey.

Inn

[thegreatexperiment]

Sam was in a crummy mood. Of course, the sun had risen in the east. That morning. So, it was pretty much just another day in paradise.

Except for the paradise part.

Seemed only right, though. A girl like her didn't really deserve nice things.

She was curled up in a corner chair, with her legs under her, sketching in the journal Jude made for her with a piece of charcoal. Her obsession with drawing the sky had continued. This time, it was the broken LA sky. But unbidden, Avery's eyes had appeared among the stars. No matter how hard she tried, she missed the fucker. Which, she supposed, meant she had to forgive him, or something. But she didn't want to. And the competing emotions were giving her a fucking headache.

Luckily, a distraction walked in.

Sam glanced up to see the red-headed woman flopping over in a chair nearby. "You look cheerful," she commented dryly, offering a sympathetic--albeit lopsided--smile.

[ethnobotany]

Beverly glances up at the voice. The letter is still in her hand for the moment, though it won't last long. Holding it feels like holding poison somehow and she'd really like a way to permanently get rid of the thing. That doesn't seem to be in the cards, though, and it's frustrating her.

"Isn't everyone cheerful when the Observers come calling?" she returns, holding onto her sarcasm as best she can. She's not upset with the other woman; she's upset with what she's seen of their captors yet again. Finally, she gives the letter a toss to the table in front of her and then motions towards the other chair. "You're welcome to take a look at it, if you'd like. Maybe you can see the point in it."

[thegreatexperiment]

Got in one. The stranger had already found Sam's ultimate weakness. Her scientific curiosity. Well. Okay, maybe it wasn't her ultimate weakness. But it was up there. About at the same level as people who didn't know who Mark Sleepwalker was.

Snapping her journal shut, she uncurled her long legs and stood up, strolling over to the table. "New variable in the Skinner Box model? I hope they got IRB approval." Sam didn't bother holding back on the sarcasm. It was pretty much all she had left. An old, faithful friend.

Friend. Defense mechanism. Whatever.

With a slip dip of her head to the stranger, she picked up the letter, scanning it briefly.

[ethnobotany]

Beverly watches her get up and make her way over, though the references aren't something she is particularly familiar with. "Hm?" is all she says at first in response, preferring to keep an eye on the other woman's reaction.

"They seem to want me to... steal something and place it somewhere," she explains, folding her arms across the table and leaning on them. "I'm assuming it's the Observers. Who else would waste paper like this and who else can make the exact same thing come back after it's been burned?" And why? None of it really makes any sense to her.

House! The 5th

[scepterschild]

With the weather getting colder, Wanda had started to collect sticks and leaves that they could use to keep the fire going in the house. She wanted enough to get through the winter and without the help of her powers, it was taking her longer to get everything she needed together. It wasn't just her and Clint but 6 chickens, a dog, Beverly and Jean-Luc. It was more imperative that they have enough wood to keep the fire going, even at a low burn.

She noticed that Beverly had started a fire the day before. It wasn't that unusual except for the timing of the flame, the fire was usually lit at night to help keep the house warm through the night. Today she watched as the older woman threw a piece of paper into the fire and it caused Wanda's suspicions to grow.

"What is it?" Wanda walked into the room with her arms crossed, her gaze flicking between the flames and Beverly.

[ethnobotany]

Beverly may be burning something at a weird time, but she's got good reason. And she's made sure to keep the fire relatively small and then try to replenish their supply as best she can. She isn't about to use so much that they can't stay warm the rest of the winter, but she absolutely does not want to see this letter any more than she has to.

The fact that it keeps coming back isn't helping.

"Something from the Observers, I think," she answers, glancing up at Wanda as she approaches. "A letter. Don't worry, I'll put out the fire before too much catches." Given how things have been since she got here, fuel for the winter is probably an actual concern. "I'm not in the mood to play their game. Whatever it is this time."

[scepterschild]

"You didn't read it?" Concern laced through Wanda's voice as she stepped forward.

She wasn't going to suggest that Beverly play by their captors games but it'd help to know what they were asking for. Wanda had come to the conclusion that the overseers were training them to be soldiers. It didn't tell her enough. What were they going to be fighting and how were the overseers going to control them.

Then there was the other village. What had happened to those test subjects? And how many times have their captors done this to people? Whatever the answers were, Wanda wanted to stop it but she needed to know more.

[ethnobotany]

"I did." She's not dumb enough not to have at least examined it. She just doesn't quite understand the full point. Why reward and not punishment? What kind of reward? And what is the real angle for all of this?

"It says to steal something of value from someone else and leave it at the peach trees in the other village. If I do that, I'll be rewarded." Her jaw tightens as she watches the flames and when it looks like the letter is entirely burned, she starts to separate the pieces and bank the fire. "I won't do it. I've been trying to burn the letter instead, but it seems to have a bad habit of coming back to haunt me."

.inn.

[learned_to_die]

Once Ned makes someone's acquaintance, he is hard pressed to forget the individual - both by name and by face. The clearest and only memory Ned has of the woman currently looking rather disheartened and forlorn in front of the hearth at the Inn is when she'd been standing about near the fountain, arms and legs moving strangely out in front and to the sides of her, and how the behavior had continued once inside. He'd later found out, of course, that it had been due to an .. odd case of a disappearing shadow, but the image of her doing a peculiar, one-person waltz has stuck with Ned.

He approaches mindfully, coming up behind the empty seat opposite her, placing his hand on its back.

"Have you lost it completely, then?" he asks, eyes scanning in a halo around her form. "Your shadow, I mean."

[ethnobotany]

It would be more curious a memory if he had any idea that she can waltz; she's an extremely talented dancer, though that is a secret she intends to keep with her. With any luck, Jean-Luc and the Observers won't spill that secret for her. Either way, she remembers Ned as well and she huffs out a small laugh at his words, grateful for the levity.

"Not this time," she replies, lifting an arm over the table and turning it around to show him the shadow perfectly attached to her. "It returned a while back and admittedly I'm happier about that than I probably should be."

It's something else that has her concerned and unsettled today.

[learned_to_die]

"I don't think there is any precedent by which to measure one's happiness at a returning shadow," Ned replies, matching her humor and lightness of tone with a quiet laugh of his own. His eyes glance to her arm and, of course, the darkened shadow underneath. "I am glad to see that you've returned to as normal a state as one might expect here." The brightness of the envelope on the table catches his eye, though he makes little motion to reveal he's noticed it.

"What is it that has seemed to distract you, then?"

[rangerbecket]

There isn't a lot of paper here in the village and to see someone use it in the fireplace when there's no need for kindling seems kind of strange to Raleigh, stranger still when it looks like one of the doctors who is doing it. He's never introduced himself before but it's a strange enough sight that it warrants some kind of comment.

"I'm guessing that's not your gas bill come due, is it?" he says, looking at the envelope curling in the fire. "There's hardly any paper here. Where'd you find any to burn it?"

[ethnobotany]

If it were any normal piece of paper, she would be saving it. But it's not. There's hardly any space on it and it seems to be something from the Observers. Neither of which is very conducive to actually using it as paper.

It does take her a minute or two to understand what he means by "gas bill" and even then, she's not entirely sure her history lessons are really translating it well for her.

"It popped up. It's not exactly paper. It's a letter, one I assume came from the Observers, so you'll have to forgive me. There's not enough space on it to use and I'd rather not have the reminder." Her brow furrows slightly. "What do you mean by 'gas bill?'"

[rangerbecket]

"Natural gas? Heats your house? Not as efficient as nuclear but in my version of the world, it's not safe to have big power plants anymore," Raleigh says. It's a long explanation, what with kaiju rising from the sea and all of that, but he's happy to go into it if she presses further. He's never been shy about explaining his world and the particular nuances of it. Right now, though, he's interested in the idea of a letter from the people who are keeping them here.

"They sent you a letter? I thought they only sent boxes," Raleigh says. "Letters are definitely new. Did you open it or do you keep trying to burn it without reading it?"

Nov 5th

[pretendtoneedme]

"You okay?" That would indeed be Clint coming in, a rack of firewood across his back that he's looking to deposit next to the fireplace. Bev's stare into the fireplace is more intense than he's used to from her, though he's seen far worse expressions on other faces in his life. Setting down the bundle of wood and rolling one shoulder to loosen it up, he watches her pretty carefully, not staring but still taking it all in. Taking in much, much more than he ever lets on. "You look... preoccupied."

[ethnobotany]

Preoccupied is one word for it. Beverly glances upward at Clint, steel in her eyes. It soon melts into something somewhat apologetic, but she hardly seems inclined to change her frame of mind. She's still plenty preoccupied.

"You would be, too, if our lovely captors had started making personal demands of you," she points out softly, letting her attention stray back to the fire. It's almost made its way through the letter by now, so she starts to pull the fire apart to bank it.

[pretendtoneedme]

It's not like it matters to him - Bev's good, but he's been glared at by much, much worse. The fact that she's trying to glare at him at all is a bad sign, though, because he can't think of anything he's done to earn that. Did he leave dirty socks in the hallway or something? Trample one of her plants?

But then she speaks and it becomes much more understandable, even if he still doesn't know precisely what it is. "What'd they ask you to do?" The question's automatic; she'll either tell him to not ask, or she'll answer. Clint undoes the straps of the firewood bundle and starts unloading it into a pile next to the hearth, close but too far away to catch if a stray coal bounces out. "Did they send you that?" he asks, nodding at the paper that's almost ash now.