what the hell....

[guessihavelostcount]

WHO: Claire Bennet
WHERE: Around the inn
WHEN: Oct 14
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: will update if needed

---

Claire wasn't sure when exactly it had happened since it was just one of those things that she didn't always pay attention to. It wasn't that she took it for granted but it was just kind of natural to think that one's shadow would always be there in some way. Except for the fact that Claire's wasn't.

At first, she just sort of glanced down, didn't see it and continued on. At least for a couple steps until she was suddenly stopping dead and looking down again. Then she was turning in a circle trying to see if maybe she just wasn't looking in the right spot for it. When she didn't see it, she glanced at the sky and then back down again as the feeling of unease started to creep up her spine. It wasn't such a bad thing but it made her feel weird.

Maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks on her?

Glancing up when she spied someone walking close, she waved her hand to catch their attention before she pointed at the ground. "This is going to sound kind of crazy but can you see my shadow?"

The birds have flown their summer skies to the south;

[markwatney]

WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Inn
WHEN: 19 Oct 2017
OPEN TO: ALL Closed to new threads

---

I think most people have an unspoken list of things they intend to do when they have the time and inclination. Mine I usually actually write down, even in a place like this where paper and writing implements are scarce — Days with much downtime don't happen often, and my list is embarrassingly long. It helps to have a note so I can look everything over and figure out what's most pressing. I managed to get off of Mars this way, so I figure it's not a bad system.

Today, though, my choice was made for me. I woke up to two things: A box with my name on it, and a sky full of snow. Fortunately, all of the harvesting had been done on the less cold-hardy plants already, and unless this cold snap dragged on into something long-term, it would be good for what we picked later in the season. Sweetens the berries.

I've got plenty of ways I could fill a free day, but the snow and that mystery box left little question what needed to be top of the list: Taking a census before winter fully moved in. As far as I could tell, while various people in various places took notes about events and connections, we'd never had one central, definitive list of everyone in the community, where they were living and how long they'd been around. With a second village in the mix now, this information was more important than ever. A proper census would give us the tools to start to prepare for winter in earnest — Not just in predicting how much food and firewood would be needed, but what roads needed to be cleared, medical preparations and more.

The box I mentioned before, it helped with this. It was full of items that were a huge help in getting organized: Pencils, binders, blessed paper. And chalk. There was only one place to use that.

After carefully copying the information that had been collected on the blackboard at the Inn, I wash down both sides and jump right in: At the top of the outfacing side, I make three headings:

Name - Residence - Apx. Arrival

Beneath this, I start with my own info:

M. Watney - W. outskirts, blue - 1yr, 4 mo

"Why haven't we named the damn streets yet?" I mutter, and then began writing in what information I know on the rest of the villagers, leaving blank spaces for others to fill in next time they're at the Inn. But seriously, though, one more thing added to my to-do list: Street names and house numbers.

(no subject)

[rangerbecket]

WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: 6I, 7I
WHEN: 19 October
OPEN TO: Sansa Stark
WARNINGS: sap

---

( *** )

Sanctify, O Lord, Our Souls, Minds, and Bodies. Touch Our Minds and Search Out Our Consciences.

[collaronhisneck]

WHO: Francis Mulcahy
WHERE: All of 6I, especially the church
WHEN: October 13-24
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Panic? Memories of war? Will update if something specific crops up.

---

For all that he's been told this place is not like the home he's used to on so many levels, for all that he'd seen that in effect in many minor ways, in truth Mulcahy hadn't entirely believed it to be true. Oh, of course he'd been brought to the village in a way he couldn't account for, for a reason he couldn't begin to comprehend, and there were people here from worlds he couldn't even begin to imagine, but in terms of day to day life everything had been surprisingly calm. Well, except for the little tricks that had been played on a few of the residents recently, but that seemed fairly harmless in the grander scheme of things.

Suddenly, though, it's no longer a laughing matter.

The first day, it's barely noticeable, since he's only at the inn for the usual help with the midday meal, but by the time the sun sets it's unmistakable when he reaches for a cup and he can barely feel it, even seeing some of the metal through his fingers in a way that nearly gives him a heart attack. Walking back to the church after sundown, it feels both like he's being stared at by an unseen entity and like he can't be seen, as the few people out don't seem to be focusing on him with their eyes. The second day he's awake early, though he's barely slept, and is out in the pre-dawn trying to find anyone awake and who can see him, though it seems to be a losing battle. It gets better as the sun rises, and he calms somewhat - and then worse again as the sun descends, and the panic kicks in once more. He's seen the same fear on the faces of far too many soldiers, especially the ones who'd been trapped in shell holes or buildings that had been bombed, that fear that they'll be forgotten and left behind to die on the battlefield in horrible ways... and while he's never had to face that fear himself, he's rapidly becoming all too familiar with it, as he fades out every day as the sun goes down and the world seems to forget he exists.

After five or six days, Mulcahy's established a kind of routine to give him something to hold on to as this... existence doesn't seem to be getting any better, though it also doesn't seem to be getting any worse, at least for him. He still shows up at the inn for lunch, helping as best he can but still somewhat hazy even then, and as the sun goes down he wanders the village looking for anything he can find that might provide some sort of clue about what's happening, or the other people affected by this phenomenon. At night, he retreats to the church, kneeling in the "nave" and praying over the rosary in the darkness, sometimes varying it with recitations of parts of The Republic. He's praying for any sort of answers or deliverance from this half-state, but he's also wondering if he's truly done something to anger God and this is his punishment.

When life hands you lemon(-flavored trick)s

[frankensteinian]

WHO: Erik Lehnsherr
WHERE: Near the inn
WHEN: October 19
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None

---

Most days when he's about and about in the village, walking from one location to another, he doesn't mind it too much. It's a good way to enjoy the nice weather, and it's easy enough, most of the time, to find something to do to kill time if it's necessary to wait out a bit of bad weather. But now the weather is starting to turn, and there's a decidedly chilly feel to the air today. But it's not too terrible yet, and requires nothing more than wearing an extra layer or two. Good thing that clothes box from awhile back had that flannel shirt in it (even if he'd rather not look at that particular shirt).

Of course when he left the house, it hadn't been raining yet. He might have waited a bit longer if it had been, and he's got no waterproof layer. So he's attempting to get his outdoor tasks done as quickly as he can, although chopping firewood in most types of weather is a challenge. He manages it though, adding today's amount of wood to the pile of wood ready for burning to the pile outside the inn. He takes the ax back to where the extra tools are being stored, for anyone else who might have use of it.

Once he's done with that for the day, he wraps his shirt tighter around himself to keep out the wind and heads back to the inn, hopefully to find something warm to drink. He pauses when something catches his eye. Why hadn't he noticed that apple tree before? Especially with such nice-looking apples. It's been months since he's seen such fruit that looks that good.

He's suspicious of this place, and suspicious of everything given to them by this place, but this is just fruit on a tree. What can be wrong about that? As soon as he plucks it though, it turns from an apple into a sweet-looking treat. Which is weird, and he should leave it alone. But he won't. It's been so long since he's had a treat, either, and he misses those more than fruit.

As soon as he pops it into the mouth though, he knows exactly why he should have left it alone. Instead of sweet, it's like taking a bite out of a lemon as if it were an apple. Anyone walking past will see his face twist into an expression that shouldn't be on anyone's face, followed by a shake of the head like a dog drying off after a bath.

He really should have left it alone.