(no subject)

[audaces]

WHO: Poe Dameron
WHERE: The fountain
WHEN: February 2
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: sexual themes
STATUS: open

---

Yavin IV is a temperate moon with many rivers and lakes, and Poe spent a large chunk of his childhood pretending to be a fish in their warm, tropical waters. It means that he's got a deep-seated instinct when it comes to water, his breath stopping immediately, mouth closing, legs kicking, all to propel him towards the surface even before he fully registers where he is. Normally, the water he's used to is much warmer than the water he suddenly finds himself in, and he almost always has a memory of how the hell he got into it, but those are all concerns that can be dealt with after he's broken the surface and has taken a proper breath again.

After allowing himself a moment to discern what direction is up, Poe kicks hard, cutting through the water with his palms as well to propel himself up as quickly as possible until he breaks through to cold, biting air in a sudden splash.

Gasping, the frigid air like knives in his lungs, he reaches for the first solid object he can find, which happens to be the lip of...a fountain?

"Kriffing hell," he gasps, clinging to the stone for a moment as he gets his bearings. It's freezing, there's snow everywhere, and yes, he's in a fountain. Outside of that, though, are some buildings, what look like large multi-use structures, perhaps, as well as smaller ones in the distance, residential dwellings, by the look of them. A few humanoid shapes can be seen as well, but most of them are too far for him to be able to call out to, so he sets instead to hauling himself out of the water. Almost the moment he gets his feet under himself, he starts shivering, but he ignores that for a moment longer, still trying to figure out what happened. "Where am I?"

all over the universe

[solus_unus]

WHO: Caius Vitale
WHERE: From the fountain to the Inn and then around the Village from there.
WHEN: 02.02
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Possible mention of Highlander type death prior to arriving
STATUS: Open

---

[Arrival > Inn]

It wasn't exactly a frightening experience surfacing in the fountain and realising he wasn't dead, or even in Ireland, for that matter. He wasn't back in the City either, so for a short few seconds to blink the water out of his vivid blue eyes, Caius glanced around. Needless to say, he knew well enough he wasn't there.

So where the hell was he? There was a pack on his back, and the scrubs weren't anything he could understand.

As he climbed out, something scraped against his forearm, leaving a deep enough gouge to bleed pretty badly, made only temporarily better when the water rushed off him. Immediately, the cooler temperature set into his bones and by the time he reached the Inn, he was trembling.

[Around the Village - Evening]

After finding out that the multiverse snagged him again, it was time to do some exploring. The whole situation was oddly familiar in that each time he took on a new identity and landed in the place where he'd live for the next decade, he did the same thing. So off he went to learn as much as he could. Create a mental map, if so to speak. Like the City, there wasn't much in the way of getting answers.

Until answers did become available, Caius looked up after the sun went down and marveled at something the City didn't have. Stopped right in the middle of a pathway, he stared up at sky while lightening danced amidst an aurora of blueish green ribbons of lights.

It was breathtaking.

goodbye, my darling

[womanofvalue]

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Outside the fountain
WHEN: February 2nd, Evening
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Ice Powers, Grief
STATUS: Open

---

It's been days of searching, to the point that even for a woman of Peggy's stubbornness, there are boundaries as to how much she can take and how long she can go denying the truth. She's searched every possible crevice the village will allow her, looking for bodies alive or dead, but it's becoming painfully clear that she's not going to find her friends because they're not here any longer. She'll miss Barnes and Natasha, of course she will, but that's not what hurts so badly.

Peggy's been at the fountain, her last resort. Perhaps whatever cruel joke this is will vanish and Steve will pop up again, like he's never been gone. She'd honestly thought that something might be going right in the universe again, if only to give her back the best man she'd ever met, but that's all gone too. Inhaling sharply, Peggy can't keep back the grief any longer. Her sobs are a choked sound that she muffles with the collar of her cloak, trying to brush away her tears.

Tears, unfortunately, that are crystallizing on her cheek. Reaching up, Peggy stares in confusion and wonder as she holds an icy teardrop on her fingertip. It ought to melt away with her body heat, but a quick touch to her skin proves that she's just as cold as the weather around her, something that shouldn't be possible by any means.

Swallowing another sound in her throat, Peggy finds herself sitting heavily on the edge of the fountain, not sure she has the energy to cope with this on top of everything. She's been accused of being an icy bitch before, but she'd never thought it would end up being so literal. "You'd laugh," she says aloud, not sure which departed friend she's speaking to now, whether it's Steve or Howard or Jarvis, "it serves me right. The one moment I need affection and compassion, this place drives ice into my heart to keep people at bay." Letting her head hang forward, any tears that come turn to ice nearly immediately, dropping to the ground like a miniature weather event right in front of her, but she can't make herself move just yet.

Steve is gone. He's gone again and she's not sure how to say goodbye so quickly, this time.

let's take it to the grave [closed to several]

[3ofswords]

WHO: Kira Akiyama
WHERE: Southwest of the Town Hall, under one of the tallest trees nearest the village
WHEN: Feb 7, after the discovery of Ren’s death
OPEN TO: Open to but not requiring tags from: Casey, Credence, Veronica or Mark, Jyn
WARNINGS: Grief, character death, a dude literally digging a grave for a friend
STATUS: Yes, from the above people

---

Time to dig a way out, or a grave.

The message had seemed a threat, at first: Kira had wondered if meeting Ren alone might put him six feet under. What he should have done, what he should have paid attention to, was the invisible force the man spoke of, the way it connected all things. The way Ren had reached out with it, and had wanted to help him test his own strengths. There would be no more time alone with him. There would be no more meetings, no taking him into the forest to hunt the wendigo, no looking for the way out.

Taking a deep breath, Kira lifted the short, unfolded shovel again, and speared it into the hard earth. The snow had stopped falling, and the air had warmed enough to melt some of it from the ground, but the soil at the base of the tall pine was packed tight and cold. Kira was sweating under his clothes, his coats laid at the roots, and every impact of the shovel travelled up to his injured hand and tested the healing skin.

It hurt: so did his fingers and palms, the muscles strained by sudden labor. So did his arms and back, and his hamstrings, his calves, from standing and bending and tossing the dirt he moved off to one side. He’s outlined the hole to an approximation of Ren’s height, and started to sink it in.

Ren had only just returned the tool to him, after his meeting. It made Kira’s heart crawl up to his throat to think about, how thoroughly the place had punished the man for his efforts.

Maybe it was chance. Plenty of people had been injured, but so far only Ren had died. Only his home had been torn in with a symbol burned across it, and Kira took another breath, lifted again, rattled the impact up his shitty narrow frame, again. It was exhausting work, worse than deep cleaning the kitchen or scrubbing out the tub. And those were his only points of comparison, as physical a project as he undertook, to prepare him for this one. He had lain awake most of the night, wrestling with the glimpse of Ren’s body, well after it had been removed from the house; he had lain awake in a silence that denied even Casey’s concern, the cat’s attentions, his own prickling flop sweat of weariness.

And at sunrise he’d gotten up, the question of what to do with that body mixing with the question of what must have been done with Ty’s. The question of his own worthlessness tying itself to both ends, marrying them to each other, tethering him to this single purpose: dig one of them a grave, at least.

It wasn’t lost on him that Ren might have predicted this. That he might have known, and Kira hadn’t recognized it about him.

It wasn’t lost on him that, with his full abilities, he might have told him not to go home.

He’d stolen Casey’s gloves on the way out. It was almost habit, to pull one over his injured hand, to see how much he could get done in the kitchen. Today he wore both of them, and he could feel the soft new skin tear and ache for the work, under the leather. Sweat made a slippery layer between his flesh and the interior, but the gloves saved his grip, and he put his weight into it. There was no strength left, the sun directly overhead, his breath rattling dry in his throat.

On the next attempt, the shovel hit the side of a rock; slid; and sent him falling forward into the hole. It wasn’t so deep yet as to swallow him, but he tipped awkward inside, scuffing his shoulder and hip on the dirt, jabbing the handle against his ribs. When he sat up, his head and shoulders, hunched as they were, showed over the edges. His limbs shook from the long effort, and he slowly unclenched his hands from the handle: it was time for another break, whether he wanted one or not.

There was so much left to do, and not enough strength in him to do it.

He felt like he was facedown in the snow again, exhausted, out of his element, following a feeling in the hopes of doing something concrete. He’d been an idiot then and he was an idiot now: wasting time with people, getting attached, having a sliver of hope, when he knew how it ended. What awful place would he be whisked away to before he finished this task? Was he going to push a boulder up a hill, over and over, stripping away his sanity every time it crushed him on the way back down?

Lifting dirty hands to his face, Kira hid his mouth and eyes against them, and the sounds of the shovel chipping at the cold earth were replaced with soft and solitary sobs.

There was still a long way to go before even the top of this hill.

[Kira, owner of the Village Shovel, can be found either crying in his initial attempts at digging Ren a grave, or if you prefer to skip the waterworks, after he's gotten up and gotten back to work a while later.  The list of characters are those who can tag, but no one is required; kept it short due to the emotional nature of the post for Kira himself]

How I wish you could see the potential;

[repressings]

WHO: Credence Barebone
WHERE: Graves' House
WHEN: February 2nd
OPEN TO: Percival Graves
WARNINGS: Spoilers for Beasts, standard Credence warnings: mentions of abuse, manipulation, death, 2edgy4me stuff
STATUS: Closed
( It's like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can't read just yet. )

Lightning Can, in Fact, Strike Twice

[andrend]

WHO: Kylo Ren's Force Ghost
WHERE: House 40
WHEN: February 6th, Forward dated so people can play it over the weekend.
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Graphic Character Death & Body discovery; possible some tears from his tiny adopted family group of acquaintances
STATUS: Open
Important OOC Notes: Jean Grey will be discovering Ren's body, though others are welcome to discover the tree and the symbol. Kira will be burying the body with the shovel he got from Ren in a different post. Otherwise, this post is like other event posts. OTAs and Threadjacks and such where threads are not closed. Have at it.

---

The static in the air has only grown worse with the passage of time. Electricity is everywhere, shocking hands that reach for door handles and raising the hairs off skin. It's a charged atmosphere that has flooded the village and surrounding canyon, and it seems to be growing rather than dissipating.

Occasional orbs of electricity burst into life in the sky, lightning lancing out from the energize centers in various directions, sometimes striking houses or trees. It's at the least a concern, and one that unsettles Ren for the frequency of it, and the dry quality of the air.

Lightning strikes a tree near the house, and the crack of the trunk is loud enough to draw at least one of its inhabitants out to take a look when the initial sound changes into a cacophony of cracking and snapping that ends in a crash. The tree, smoldering in an arc down its split and splintered trunk had landed against the corner edge of the roof and smashed a small cave-in into the covering.

It was nothing to worry about as far as the integrity of the building's structure, but the potential for a growing fire was. Ren slid his coat off and tossed it over the fallen part of the broken tree, smothering the embers as quickly as he could. One house going up was a problem, but in the weather they had been having, it wouldn't take much to spread.

The second strike comes as he's putting out the flames, striking the house itself this time. He manages to see it, watches the arc of it slam into the roof like a weapon more than a feat of nature. And the strike unnaturally coils and burns into the roof with the hiss of a new fire. Grabbing the coat as quickly as he could, Ren jumps onto the broken tree, scaling the angled log as quickly as he can in a race against flames. He slips, splinters his hands and knocks his knees a few times on the way up, but he makes it, and throws himself toward the fire.

For all he internally might have wished the village would burn, the house was a shelter to Jean and himself, and he didn't want to watch that so easily destroyed by an angry storm of lightning. He throws the singed coat down over the flames, barely catching a glimpse of the symbol burned clear as day into the roof itself. His priorities elsewhere.

Another fire smothered, Ren allows himself a moment to catch his breath, tugging a shard of bark from his palm and pulling the now ruined coat off the symbol to take a look. He never gets the chance to see it clearly, as a second bolt attempts to strike exactly where the first has hit, and meets a softer, more conductive barrier in its path.

Warning: Graphic Character Death follows

( Proceed at your own risk )

---

[Important OOC Notes: Jean Grey will be discovering Ren's body, though others are welcome to discover the tree and the symbol. Kira will be burying the body with the shovel he got from Ren in a different post. Otherwise, this post is like other event posts. OTAs and Threadjacks and such where threads are not closed. Have at it.]