sixthiterationlogs | Meeting - How To Deal With Winter Without Blaming The Starks

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Meeting - How To Deal With Winter Without Blaming The Starks

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn/Pub's main room
WHEN: 2st December
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E ~~not going on science/hunt quest. Hunt a monster, miss a meeting <.<~~
WARNINGS: TBA as needed
STATUS: Open!

For the past few days, Kate has been spreading the word that there'll be a meeting after lunch today. The previous meetings had been in reaction to something, and to a certain extent, this one is no different. But Kate wants to try something else: planning. Planning on how to deal with the coming months when the weather will only get worse. How to deal with blizzards, storms. How to deal with problems hopefully before they arise.

And, maybe, it makes her feel better doing this. Organising something, now that her comrade-in-practical-arms (Mark Watney) has left her to go trek after a monster. Far, far more practical than having hysterics. Which she won't admit to having to anyone but her cat and Benedict.

(Her tea that night might have been spiked with a dash of whiskey to insure that she slept.)

Today, the weather is cold. There is snow on the ground, and the sun isn't coming out to play. It is the kind of day where people linger over their meals in the warmth of the Inn anyway, seats near the fireplace taken quickly. Towards the end, Kate starts to organise for the meeting. One of the smaller tables is tipped over its side so Ivan has something to write on to take the minutes, and Kate hands him some pieces of precious chalk.

Then she stands on a chair and taps a spoon against a tiny saucepan in lieu of a bell.

"Attention, please! I call this meeting to order. So much as we ever get order. Winter's not goin' away in a hurry, so before we all run into trouble, we're goin' t'come up with some ideas and share knowledge. Not all of us come from the same world, let alone the same environment. If it seems obvious to you, say it anyway, because it might not be to others. Everyone got that? Good."

With that, she steps off the chair and sits on it.

Meeting's begun.

[OOC: Like our other meetings, set-up is mingle and threadjackable unless otherwise specified. Please set up your own heading posts for various topics that your characters would bring up for some organisation, but otherwise, have fun!]

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With Cougar gone, Jake feels a little bit at loose ends. Puttering around the house is all well and good, but without someone there to keep him company, he's getting bored.

So, one excited puppy in tow, Jake heads off towards the Inn, arriving just in time to hear the little brunette, Miss Kate declare a meeting in order. Living so far away from the Inn leaves him out of the loop, often times, so he's glad to have thought to show up to one of these for a change. He lets Baby off his leash so he can go zipping around the room to beg for attention from everyone, and slides into a chair. When Miss Kate is finished speaking, he puts his hand in the air, figuring he might as well get this sharing train rolling.

"To prevent the water pipes from freezing solid and bursting overnight, make sure all your taps are set to drip to keep the water moving. It doesn't have to be a steady stream or anything, but a consistent flow of water will prevent a total disaster from happening. And since we clearly don't have metered water here, nobody has to worry about skyrocketing water bills..."

He scratches at his shaggy beard, thinking, then continues. "And if you want to keep your stairs free and clear, taking a spare sheet or curtain or something to cover them overnight will make removing the snow a lot easier." It would be easiest with a tarpaulin, but he's pretty sure most people don't have those here. "I'm pretty sure nobody has kitty litter or rock salt, so those ideas are kaput..."

Ravi's been worrying about something going wrong ever since Helen left with the others in the hunting party. He avoids saying 'nothing can go wrong' because when you say that, things tend to go horribly, terribly wrong. So he's not saying it, but when Kate calls a meeting and starts talking about winter, Ravi thinks he ought to be the responsible medical party and at least issue a warning, lest he be dealing with frostbite and hypothermia for longer than he wants to think about.

"Everyone, please, please make sure you cover up when you go outside and there's a chill. No exposed skin to snow or ice, don't linger in the fountain or the river too long and you know who I'm talking to," he says knowingly, "and if you're feeling any worries that you might have been exposed, please come seek proper medical help as soon as you can," he insists.

"Helen might be out there now, but she'll be back," he says, stubbornly insisting on it. "And you can find me anytime and I'll drop by the inn, but it's imperative that as the temperatures drop that we don't get stupid." And, unfortunately, he's seen a lot of stupid in his life.

She'll never quite understand this need some of the people here have for what they call 'proper medical attention'. Doctors are useful, when they are around and you can afford their fees or find a charitable one. But if there is a lack, you need to know what to do for yourself.

Like here.

Like, if, for example-

"If you can't get to the person in trouble," Kate begins, "what can we do? Say, there's a blizzard and you can't leave your house. What would you recommend we do?"

Don't go outside should be obvious and yet, Ravi does worry about some people. "Well, first, we ought to be anticipating for that. Plan to have supplies in your home enough to last at least a week. Food, dry wood, blankets, any other provisions you might need in order to survive. From there, and I cannot stress this enough, don't go outside," he warns. "If you've got someone experiencing the symptoms, the key is to warm them up safely. The wet clothing should be removed and then, you'll want to wrap them in warm clothing, blankets, anything to get the head and torso protected."

"If they can't shiver, you need to get help," he says, wishing that they had some sort of walkie-talkie system. "Get food into them. Warm drinks, but not alcoholic, and high energy foods if they're able to swallow." And that's just the do's. "Don't put them in a hot bath, don't massage them, and don't put them near a fire," he warns. "It might cause the blood vessels to rush and cause a fall in blood pressure. It could lead to death," he warns. This all sounds so lovely and cheerful in his mind, he has no idea why anyone would think him fatalistic.

Ciri hasn't been in the Village very long at all, and she watches the proceedings of the meeting that began after dinner with great interest. She had gotten a hefty dose of exactly how brutal the weather could be a few days past, and she worries, not for the first time, that Eredin is behind all of this. Trapping her in a place and time from which there is no escape. Except she didn't think he had that kind of power. Whatever did must be...

But it's no use, and there are so many here who need a hand. She thinks of Geralt, and what he might do in her place, and there is really no question she will do what she can, as much as she can, to assist them.

Perched on a bench on the periphery of the group, Ciri waits for a lull before speaking up. "It might not hurt to consider trying to put together some sleds, for transporting food or people through snow. There's no way of knowing how deep it will get."

Ciri thinks briefly of the White Frost, and the snow piling up for centuries, and shakes the thought away. There's no reason to think that is what's happening here. "I don't suppose anyone here knows how to make one?"

It's the sort of thing they should teach the tributes in training. Or, should if they actually had any intention of teaching them to really survive, rather than just to keep alive long enough to make sure everyone else is dead. They want tributes dying of exposure, want to make sure they keep up that statistic that more of them die of natural causes than not.

He's seen tributes die from doing some of the things Ravi says not to do, seen tributes try to warm their frozen allies only to see them die by the fire when they should be recovering.

"Just what other symptoms are you suggesting we look for other than not shivering?"

There'd been no snow and ice in his arena, so he hasn't experienced that level of cold himself. And tributes freezing to death on live television don't bother to list their symptoms.

Ravi glances aside, seeing the strange boy that had worried him so much the first time they'd met, wondering if he's asking out of a hypothetical curiosity or more of a professional sort where he's trying to gain insight. "Well, there'll be symptoms of clumsiness, a lack of coordination," he says. "Trouble speaking, breaths coming abnormally quickly. Poor decision making is both evidence of someone who could be very bad at choices, but also hypothermia," he warns.

"So, you know, bundling up? It's good," he says, thinking he hasn't understated the importance at all.

Ren only came to the meeting through chance. He half lived in the inn and half out of it, never willing to admit to sticking around for the warmth, the food and maybe for the extra bodies to keep an eye out for danger. But as the weather grew colder and harsher, his presence in the inn also grew, and his work on the house he had laid claim to further toward the edge of town slowed.

He listened to Kate, because she seemed to have an intelligent head on her soldiers. Not in the sense of General Hux or any of the high ranking officers working aboard the Finalizer or Starkiller, but the kind it took to survive in a situation like the current one. In some way she put him at ease, reminding him of a droid. Efficient, quick, steady. Capable of keeping things running smoothly and overall not a threat to his movements or plans.

He was seated in a chair near the wall, closer to the fireplace than away because the warmth was needed after too much time spent outdoors in the biting cold. There had been a lot of chaos about the village recently and he was doing his best to side step the greater part of it that had less to do with him.

"If you head out of the village and lose yourself in the snow, a recently killed animal carcass of a large enough size makes a decent temporary structure and source of warmth. As long as nothing else comes along to try and eat it and you in the meantime. Maybe not the most appealing solution, but it works." He had it on the authority of several people that, while he no longer trusted either, were as far as he could tell truthful in recounting that particular tale.

It's a grim thing to mention, but it doesn't phase Ren in the slightest. He was contributing in his own way, at least, as he had been doing, just enough to keep himself busy without appearing overly helpful to the band of misfit strangers he found himself trapped with.

Steve had arrived at the inn relatively early to help Natasha down the stairs, then had let her choose a spot closer to the fire. It's not where he would've chosen for himself, since he's less susceptible to what they're all here to discuss. But Nat had wanted the light so she could continue her knitting, and now that he's here with the rest of them he appreciates the warmth at his back.

He keeps quiet for a while; he knows that what he wants to bring up is a little left of the meeting's intended purpose, but it's got to do with their survival just the same, so he'll only wait until other things are out of the way. Besides, he's got Sam on one side and Bucky on the other, Natasha across from them. It's not something he would've anticipated a few months ago, so monsters be damned, he's not above taking a few minutes to be glad for it.

Eventually he stands up during a quiet moment in the discussion, a lull between questions and suggestions.

"We could use a patrol," he says. "At least until the others get back. Then we can reevaluate if we need to, but until then it's up to us still here to make sure no one else gets hurt." He pauses, unused to showing his credentials and of mixed feelings erring on the side of awkward about it, but he forges on. "I've got some experience with that kind of thing, so if this sounds like something we want, I could use people who know how to fight and keep themselves safe out there." At the last he nods slightly toward Ravi, in acknowledgement of his concerns as well as the fact that he's asking any volunteers to go against his advice.

[ Please feel free to respond to Steve directly here or approach him after the meeting if you'd like to volunteer ~~as tribute~~! ]

Sam wasn't about to miss a meeting, he'd been to all the others after all. He could use a refresher course in winter survival anyway, but mostly he wanted to assess how everyone was holding up. Karen's death had been over a week ago and the hunting party still hadn't returned. That wasn't going to be good for morale right now and Sam was still debating whether or not it was time to start bringing in his other skill set here. This would be a good time to check that anyway.

That being said, of course he wanted to help in other ways. Natasha was still recovering from her encounter with a hydra and there was a feeling of being exposed, despite being barricaded by the accumulating snow drifts. Sam didn't like where this winter was going and it made him uneasy. Being with familiar faces eased that a bit and he latched onto the suggestion of a patrol.

"You know you can count me in," he volunteered without missing a beat. Not that he probably actually had to say anything to Steve, but he wanted to make it clear to everyone else. "Expeditions out into the woods were probably going to be a bad idea now anyway," he said, referring to his previous main job around here. After the past few weeks he'd been reducing his visits out into the woods anyway.

"I can do it," she says from her spot across the room, quiet and a little unsure at first until his attention is on her. Allison sits up a little straighter at that, doing her best to draw on that Argent leadership her father's praised her for in the past. Would he be proud of her for this? Probably. It's what she holds onto while she continues speaking, anyway.

"I know how to track, and how to fight." Her fingers curl in the fabric of her pants.

"My family, we have a code. Nous protègons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protèger eux-měmes. We protect those who cannot protect themselves."

She waits until there's a lull, seated in a corner a little ways from everyone else; she'd come to the meeting for the advice, knew she'd need it because despite her training, she'd never been prepared to ride out a winter with no electricity. She has a vague idea of how to keep her house warm — but she'd rather not risk burning the place down with her inside of it while she sleeps. So far, there'd been little for her to add to the conversation, but as it goes on, the gnawing feeling in her gut becomes too much, and she knows she needs to tell them.

So she waits for a brief respite in conversation before clearing her throat and standing up.

"I think I know what killed Karen, and why there's howling in the woods at night." She takes a deep breath, steadies herself. Clinically. Unemotionally.

"Back home, my family were werewolf hunters. Like actual, turn at the moon, raging werewolves. Not all of them are bad, but there were some — they killed humans. For sport, sometimes, for vengeance, others. I've been trying to see if I can find them, ever since I started hearing the howling at night, but either they're really good at hiding or I just haven't been able to find their tracks yet. But the way she was killed, the way they left the body for us to find — it points to that, if not something worse. I didn't get a chance to memorize my family's bestiary, but I'll try to answer any questions."

She sits down at that, a little harder than she means to, the deed done. They'll believe her or they won't, but Allison has her conviction and her sense of duty. Even if no one else will help her, she'll still fight.

It had been Annie who raised the idea of allying with the others in the village, who had started to point out the advantages of doing so. It had also been Annie who, in her games, had been in a game alliance. Had seen it fall apart spectacularly. At the time, that had broken her. Now, all it does is offer her worries and concerns that aren't in Finnick's immediate consciousness. Not that he doesn't understand alliances: he's a Career like her, and he's been a mentor while she's been a support analyst back in their district.

But Annie watches the crowd of people here with her wide, dark sea-green eyes, and chews on the bottom of her braid as she thinks.

So far, the group is holding together. People are holding it together, as if the death of the animals had only pushed them closer instead of apart. But Annie knows crowds and patterns, and she knows that if the others were to start blaming people rather than mutts, she and Finnick make perfect, perfect targets. The weird outsiders who talk of games.

Most of Annie doesn't want Finnick to really leave her sight. But the other part of her, the coolly assessing Career, sees an opportunity, and she looks over at Finnick.

Then she raises her eyebrows at him.

Then she kicks his foot, discreetly, and gestures towards Steve with her eyes.

Of the two of them, only one would be of use on a patrol, and it's not her.

Edited 2016-12-06 08:59 (UTC)

His strategy in the Games when he'd been fourteen had meant that Finnick couldn't be part of the traditional Career alliance. He'd relied on being underestimated because of his youth and beauty, and allies would have seen his abilities too soon, so he'd struck out on his own. He's wanted to stick to a similar strategy here, protect and work with Annie and stay away from the others. But they'd made their decision, and that's why they're here at this meeting in the first place.

If they really are stuck here through what is going to be a winter the likes of which neither Finnick nor Annie have ever seen except in glimpses on their Victory Tours, they need more allies. They both know it, even if Annie knew it before he did.

Still, he hasn't volunteered anything about his talents yet, and when Annie raises her eyebrows at him, he raises his back. The kick on the foot, though, is unmistakable and.

Well. From all he'd heard, that girl had died a horrible death, and whatever his ambivalence and suspicions towards the people here, he doesn't want to see any more deaths like that. So he shifts in place and raises a hand.

"I've fought mutts before."

And anyone who's seen him on his fishing trips lately would have seen his new spear and the trident with tines of sharpened animal bones he's made for himself with the pitch and twine in his gift box.

"Good point--we could use sand or grit, maybe," Nerys says once he's done, thinking about the ice sheets that used to cover the ground at the internment camp in winter time, back in her childhood. "There's a bunch of natural gravel back near the cliffs. It won't work as well if there's lots of ice or if it gets too cold, but it'd at least give us a little bit of traction."

She's never actually seen a puppy this close before, so if she's looking at the dog instead of the man or the others in the room, it's only because it's very cute and an excellent distraction. The puppy, in turn, can tell someone's watching, but seems to be easily distracted sniffing around a nearby table in hopes that leftover crumbs from lunch might be a thing that is happening somewhere underneath.

Though he's kept himself at arm's length from most of the people here (there has got to be a better way of phrasing that, considering...), there was no way Bucky was going to skip this meeting. Between the arrival of winter and the brutal death of one of the villagers, everyone's got to be on the same page moving forward. This is far too important to let his leeriness of others get in the way.

So here he is, seated in the company of his best friend and allies (all of whom he's attacked in very recent memory), listening to suggestions and commenting when appropriate. And when Steve brings up the subject of regular patrols, Bucky's quick to volunteer.

Though Sam beats him to it.

"I'm in, too." And, judging by the steely look on his face, he's already ready to shoot down any protests, just in case someone thinks he can't handle himself in a fight without his left arm.

"Even ash from the fireplace will give you some traction," he agrees, scratching his fingers through his beard again. "Even if it's not still hot enough to melt anything, it might keep you from slipping and splitting your head open."

Baby has discovered, to his disappointment, that there is no food to be found, and so changes tactics and goes to ask for ear-scratches from anyone who looks like they're going to give in to him. Nudging at her ankles with his snout, he turns his bright blue puppy eyes on Kira, tail already wagging hopefully.

Benedict, not having much experience with animals on the Surface beyond that which he's read in books — which he knows is embellished as people misremembered facts or created myths out of whole cloth — takes Allison's pronouncement at face values. She claims her family were werewolf hunters, and he believes her.

He's not exactly clear on what werewolves are, but they're clearly dangerous if they're what killed Karen, and if Allison says she knows how to deal with them, then he will listen to her.

"What can we do to stop them?" he asks, feeling a little foolish for being so ignorant, but knowing that his embarrassment will be a small price to pay in the long run. "What do they even look like?"

Well, there it is. He knew there was a lot more to Allison than the story she fed him when they first bumped into each other. And, judging by the way she speaks and carries herself as she reveals this information, Bucky figures it took a lot for her to admit it. He wonders if it's because werewolves-- and their hunters-- exist in secret where she's from, or if she just thought nobody here would believe her. Probably both.

Given all that he's seen and read about-- and the footage he's seen of battles that happened while he was on ice or in hiding-- it's not too hard to wrap his mind around the existence of actual monsters. And though it's obviously concerning that the circumstances of Karen's death (one that didn't impact him personally like it did the others-- they knew her; he never even met her before he saw her shredded corpse) match the monsters Allison's hunted before, it's a relief, in a way. At least it's a lead. At least they might know how to stop it.

He waits until the meeting's wound down and people start to take their leave before he heads over to Allison.

"'Deer,' huh?" he asks wryly.

Edited 2016-12-07 01:55 (UTC)

Allison isn't expecting him to approach— she's not expecting anyone to approach her post meeting to discuss what she'd said. As far as she's concerned, she's said all she can on the matter, and while questions might trickle in later, surely she's given them all enough to wrap their heads around for the next day or so. They're lucky in that. She wasn't allowed to process it, just shoved into that icy cold pool of reality and left to sink or swim. Maybe she's stronger for it; she doesn't know. When she hears his voice and registers what he's said, well—

There's one deer in this conversation at least.

She looks like he's about to hit her with a car for about two seconds before it fades into guilt, and she reaches up to scratch an itch at the nape of her neck.

“I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have believed me if I had told you then, but, I'm sorry for lying. Maybe if I hadn't she'd still be alive.”

She's no stranger to trying to do the right thing only to have it blow up in her face. Her entire life had been one misstep after another for a while, and she had still been trying to gather her feet when she'd “arrived” here. She's not exactly happy to know she'd made the wrong decision again.

Edited 2016-12-07 02:32 (UTC)

Once Bucky sees the look on Allison's face, he regrets his remark. He hadn't meant to make her feel guilty; he was just trying to be funny in some dry sort of way-- which, in retrospect... Probably not a good time for it. Being no stranger to guilt that sometimes gets so heavy he's not sure he can keep on carrying it, Bucky isn't quite sure how he can correct this. After all, he knows that 'it's not your fault' doesn't change anything, no matter how true it might be.

The corner of his mouth pulls into a little frown, and he shakes his head. "She'd probably still be dead."

Yeah. He's no good at this kind of thing.

Thorfinn was sitting where he usually does when Jo isn't there, one of the tables by the wall. He had his back against the wall, one arm drapped over one of his legs. Since Jo had gone off on the hunt, Thorfinn had been a little quieter than usual. Working himself as always. He was only at the lunch today because of the meeting.

This meeting was easier than most with his grasp of english so much better. He usually never speaks up in these meeting but today he finally pushed himself to stand on the chair and clear his throat.

"Excuse me." He spoke in that same kind tone he so often uses, and yet projecting it. SOmeone used to needing to be loud. The man dressed in a blood stained hand made tunic and scrubs, his hair braided up tight.

"Most of you know me. My name is Thorfinn, I am from Iceland." He started, he knew he needed to learn this kind of speaking and trouble solving for the sake of Vinland. "My hold is a very bitterly cold place. Our homes are nothing like these." A bit of an amused tone hit just for a second. "Most of you are from a time that is much in the future for me. But, I know things to help. We need wood. We need to build fires at night when furnaces do not work. Stay in one room to keep warm at night. Conserve and preserve food. Dry fish. These are all things I know how to do. I have since arriving been preparing for winter. So, anyone who needs help with these things I know some ways. But, importantly, to the other hunters besides myself, we need to hunt bigger game. Bigger game means more furs, more furs means warmer nights and cloaks to move through the snow much warmer in."

He spoke, remaining standing on the chair looking at everyone in the room. He never talked this much at once, but he felt it best to just say the things on his mind to focus on what needed done.

Edited 2016-12-08 15:56 (UTC)

Nerys suppresses a shudder at 'splitting your head open' as the thought of that happening in a place like this, with almost no medical assistance, is appalling to her. Not even a dermal regenerator (they'd gone through three in her resistance cell over the course of a year alone), for fuck's sake.

"Good point, I hadn't thought of the ash," she says, casting her mind around to any other items they might have lying around that could help. "Not to create more bureaucracy, but we should maybe have a rota group of people keeping an eye on the main paths. Make sure they're as clear as possible. When it's this kind of shifty weather, warm and cold, and lots of people are trampling down the snow, that turns into a real mess."

The dog is poking against her ankles, and when that doesn't do much because Nerys is mid-sentence, he tries pushing his head under her palm. She snorts a soft laugh and scritches a little in the soft fur. Persistence gets rewarded.

Ciri notes the man who stands to discuss potential patrols. She's seen him about, in and out of the inn and here and there in the village, but they haven't been introduced yet. One thing she agrees on wholeheartedly is the need for them all to be on their guard. They were vulnerable here and only more so as the winter pushed onward.

She waits for some of the initial buzz to settle before she waves a bit to catch his attention. "I would like to volunteer for as many shifts as I may be needed for," she begins, as if it were obvious. The very idea of feeling purposeful again is appealing to her, after spending so much time hanging around the inn trying to sort out her next moves.

"I would also like to volunteer to put together a supply of torches for the patrols. It seems they might be of use." On a dark cold night a torch could be a source of light and warmth, and Ciri had learned to make them out of almost anything. "I should be able to find the necessary supplies without too much trouble."

As Kate listens, she's glad she asked. What he says not to do is... Well. It's what she'd do. It's common sense. It's common sense, and from what he is saying, it'd be fatal.

Suddenly, abruptly, she wants to be home with an ache she's been trying to dull for months.

"What we have, um. Clothin' wise. Is that enough, or should we try'n' make some more clothes. Quilting them, to trap air?"

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Page 1 of 4

Meeting - How To Deal With Winter Without Blaming The Starks

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ota with Ren

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Re: OTA

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Thorfinn - OTA

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