sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

WHERE: 6I Village and Inn
WHEN: 27-31 July
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
NOTES: The Wendigo threatening the village will be killed mid 28 July, with a Blue Lily, per these threads. Plot details here. Note: The final fight is close enough to be seen from the upstairs inn windows.
WARNINGS: Wendigo attack mingle, please warn in comment headers if discussing violence, gore, or related trauma. Possible mentions of character death.

The urgent warnings come from villagers returning south from the lake: a creature twice the size of a man, antlered and voracious. Larger than any they've seen on the plains, stalking its way to the main village. Some might have their own names for this hunger in a skin of shadow; others might remember that it was the first to claim a life, in their village's short history.

Whatever context one has for it, best to secure all pets and loved ones before it arrives. With weapons and food stores at the inn, the call goes out to gather — And to bring back any tools, because there's no telling what doors and windows can do to stop such a creature.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Elena knows loss and she knows pain. She knows the struggle of feeling helpless, like you didn't do enough to protect the people you cared about.

She's been there, she knows what it looks like.

It's a grief that never really goes away, and it hangs heavy on the shoulders in a way that nothing else could. She knows what it's like to break under the weight of it, and to have to somehow find a way back.

She hears Rose's voice break, and something inside her cracks too, wounds peeling open that she had tried to bury, things she doesn't usually talk about. Things that Rose probably won't want to talk about.

Elena doesn't need her to. She doesn't ask how she is, doesn't ask if she's okay. Elena knows she isn't, and so she'll try to help the only way she knows how; by simply being here.

She silently pulls the other girl into her, arm sliding around her shoulders and the other wrapping around her.]

[ There weren’t many who could be in her presence, let alone touch Rose right now, without the brunette biting their head off. But then, there weren’t many who could understand what she needed, who could allow her to exist without pushing her to do what she should, rather than what she wanted.

She felt Elena’s arm move around her shoulders, the gentle pull that she felt she should resist, but Rose’s body had expended every bit of energy she had, just getting up the stairs and turning the shower on. Her eyes closed tight, wrinkles forming as she tried to trap the tears that wanted to well up behind her eyelids. An ache she’d been desperately trying not to feel since she’d stood on that bridge in Siberia, spreading throughout her chest.

There’s no sound but for the water that rains down from above, splashing against body and tile as Rose leans into Elena. The shudder that rolls through her, the only evidence of the sob that silently rocks her chest and shoulders. Rather than try and talk, or continue to hold it in - for a time she simply allows Elena to hold her. The water slowly washing away the signs of death and revealing wounds not seen by the naked eye. ]

[Elena exhales in something akin to relief as Rose sinks against her. She knows how she can be, how easy it is to hide your feelings and your pain behind a strong facade and a smile.

That only goes so far, and in the midst of tragedy, she's just glad that Rose feels safe enough with someone to let herself fall apart. She doesn't mind being that person. If anything, she feels grateful.

She doesn't speak, just listens to the sound of the water splashing against skin and tile, gently runs her fingers through the other girl's hair to loosen tangles and help them rinse clean. Bruises and cuts would heal, blood and dirt would wash away. She was more worried about the damage to her friend's heart.]

[She’s not sure how long it is that she stays like that, eeking warmth from the closeness of another. Clinging to what little comfort there was as they just sit together in the bottom of the shower.

There aren’t any tears, though. Mostly because Rose isn’t sure she has any left to give. At least not for the boy that she barely knew and she wasn’t ready to shed them for the man who knew her better than anyone.

It’s more like the beginning of a grief that’s too big to really feel, the events of the day allowing just a sliver of it to rise to the surface as it waited for the moment when the dam of emotions finally broke.]

It’s my fault.

[She says it simply. Not looking for Elena to disagree with her. Rose knew what she’d say, knew what others would say but it didn’t change what she knew to be true.]

He shouldn’t have been out there and I knew it.

[She knew what survivor's guilt felt like. She felt it every day, the weight of another's death pressing hard on your shoulders. No matter what logic says, no matter what anyone else says, it's always there.

She knows it won't matter if she tells Rose she's wrong. She would believe it until she no longer felt the guilt that came with watching someone die and not be able to stop it.

It might never go away.]

No one should have had to be out there.

[This shouldn't have happened at all. Even if Rose demanded to carry some of the blame, she shouldn't carry it all.]

I'm so sorry.

[Rose straightens a little, pulling away from Elena as a result. Her hands raising to push her wet hair back from her face as the water continues to cascade over the both of them.]

Fighting things like that. It’s what I do.

[If anyone was meant to be out there, Rose believed it was her. It was the one and only thing she was good at. The one thing she had to offer that most couldn’t.]

But… him. [Unable to say his name, like calling him Peeta would open a wound.]

He fought - [Fought well even, all things considered.] But he wasn’t a fighter. [Not like she was, not like the guy with the metal arm; Benny? Barry?] I took one look at him and I thought… you’re going to get killed.

[Because Peeta was the kind of guy who was easy to underestimate and she could acknowledge that she had in many ways, but it didn’t alter the fact that she’d thought it, and he had in fact been killed.]

But I didn’t say anything.

He chose to be there Rose. He wanted to fight.

[It wasn't her job to protect everyone, as much as she might think. It was something that seems to embedded in the core of who she was that it was easy for Elena to see why she would react this way to what happened.

But Peeta chose to fight. He knew what might happen and he'd fought anyway.

It was hard to accept the consequences when it wasn't your choice to make, and Elena was certainly guilty of wanting to be able to make those choices while trying to keep others from making the same ones. It was hard, but life was hard, especially when you were thrown into situations that weren't safe or fair.]

I'm sure he wouldn't want you to blame yourself.

I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be dead, either.

[She’d understood it, his need to do something and it was why she hadn’t spoken up… but she should have. Just like she should have done more to stop the others in Spokane. It was hard to feel like she’d done nothing wrong when both times she’d made a choice and both times it had ended in death.]

It should have been me.

[Not that she wanted to die, not that she thought it would be better if she had and to make it clear to Elena that wasn’t the case, Rose lifted the shredded remains of her shirt to expose her stomach, the four red lines that ran across her skin.]

It should have sliced me open like it was nothing… but something happened.

[Elena can't say anything to that because she knows saying anything else would be a lie. She'd chosen death herself, but it hadn't meant she'd wanted it.

Still, she shakes her head, because the direction her mind turns isn't true.]

It shouldn't have been anyone, Rose. [She looks down at her friend's stomach, wonders what could have saved her, and silently glad that it did.] If it had been you, then I would be feeling the same guilt you do now for not fighting with you.

Or, if it had killed you, it might have killed a lot more people, too.

[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

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