Kylo Ren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andrend) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-02-01 11:26 pm
andrend) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-02-01 11:26 pm
Let the blind lead the blind
WHO: Kylo Ren
WHERE: Just outside the Inn
WHEN: February 1st
OPEN TO: All; Threadjack style
WARNINGS: None other than that this is really long.
STATUS: Open
The fact that daily meals not only existed, but seemed to do so in spite of snow, earthquakes, and auroras in the sky, was one of a few consistently positive glimmers of hope for the village and its inhabitants. It also had the benefit of drawing a large number of those same inhabitants to one predictable location more often than not. For Ren, that was normally a reason to avoid the inn in the hours after dawn and before dusk. However, with his mind on the conversations he had had with Sansa and Veronica, and the missing beast presumably still roaming somewhere out in the canyon, Ren knew he couldn't keep approaching the problem the way he had been, previously.
Veronica's advice still lingered in his mind fresh enough after a month of thought to have him trying something new. He waited for a good number of people to enter the inn before doing so himself, and asked, with a softened tone and a calm voice, if people could spare a moment when they finished to have a discussion.
He had missed the most recent meeting, entrenched as he had been in his training. It had been another lost opportunity, and he wanted no more of those. This was as good of a chance as any, and he was taking action before action could be taken from him.
With his request submitted, he left the inn and borrowed a sturdy crate from outside one of the unused buildings. He took a seat on it, just outside the front of the inn, during the meal. Most people came and went through the doors, and it gave him a good position without worrying about the crowding of the growing village's size packed inside one space.
When enough people decided to come out and take part, he stood back up, his long hair loosely pulled back, and the scar the cut across his face and down his arm far more visible for it. He looked around at the faces gathered, some familiar, others new, and straightened his back, standing taller and more assured. He needed people to trust him, or at least trust that what he had to say might be important. But he could not be harsh, he could not demand. He had to coax reason out, and the only way to do so was to offer his ideas as ideas, and nothing more.
"A lot has happened in this canyon. Some of you have been here for far more of it than I have. There have been hazards, storms, unusual discoveries, and violent creatures. People come and go, almost always without the slightest inclination as to how or why. I myself have gone and returned, and I remember nothing of it." He paused there, one hand holding onto the metal staff he had been using so long now it had become an extension of him. He rested it on the ground like a cane now, using it to keep himself grounded.
"This canyon is unpredictable. The dangers and threats that may face us in the future can not be anticipated wholly, and there is no way of knowing who among us will still be around to see them. But one thing is clear. I do not believe our captors have ever intended anything positive of this place. They observe, and they prevent our escape. They take our strength, our possessions, our memories," He hesitates a moment, his grip tightening on the staff, his voice sharper for a moment before settling back to an even tone. "And they toy with us. We have no idea who they are, what their true intentions may be, or how they came to bring us here, only that for now we are trapped here, together."
He looks over the group that has gathered, a frown crossing his face, his brows furrowed a moment before smoothing over. He has to choose his words carefully, and for the sometimes reckless young man, it isn't easy not to dive straight in.
"I think it's time we discuss whether or not this place needs more than the loose assortment of tasks and common, repeated actions it has as it currently stands. I believe we need a leadership in place. A council. With how unpredictable this place has proven to be, no one person can or should be trusted with that task but more dangers will come, we will face more disasters, more attacks that we can not see coming. We can not assume that we will always have the luxury of waiting until after the fact to react."
He breathes, slow and deep, and tries to find the words again, searching for the right phrasing, the right voice.
"I think a council is something we should consider. A group of people to share the burden of making tough calls or assigning tasks when things go wrong, or when something needs to get done. It will not work, however, if disagreement runs rampant underneath it. That's why I came here. At the very least, it should be discussed. If the majority is against it, I will drop the matter, but if we do not at least have this conversation, I do not think this village will last many disasters before the fragile organization the structure of it is currently built on collapses and falls apart."
Having said his piece, Ren stepped aside, and offered the area he had been speaking from to anyone who might choose to use it.
[This is a meeting post open to threadjacking, interruptions, opinions, and the like. If your character has anything to say, let them do so. I'll drop a secondary comment below for Ren specifically, otherwise go wild and respond to anyone you like or start your own thing. It's intended to be an IC discoure over whether or not the village needs some form of leadership, but any actual organizing of a leadership is not intended or planned to be formed from this meeting.]
WHERE: Just outside the Inn
WHEN: February 1st
OPEN TO: All; Threadjack style
WARNINGS: None other than that this is really long.
STATUS: Open
The fact that daily meals not only existed, but seemed to do so in spite of snow, earthquakes, and auroras in the sky, was one of a few consistently positive glimmers of hope for the village and its inhabitants. It also had the benefit of drawing a large number of those same inhabitants to one predictable location more often than not. For Ren, that was normally a reason to avoid the inn in the hours after dawn and before dusk. However, with his mind on the conversations he had had with Sansa and Veronica, and the missing beast presumably still roaming somewhere out in the canyon, Ren knew he couldn't keep approaching the problem the way he had been, previously.
Veronica's advice still lingered in his mind fresh enough after a month of thought to have him trying something new. He waited for a good number of people to enter the inn before doing so himself, and asked, with a softened tone and a calm voice, if people could spare a moment when they finished to have a discussion.
He had missed the most recent meeting, entrenched as he had been in his training. It had been another lost opportunity, and he wanted no more of those. This was as good of a chance as any, and he was taking action before action could be taken from him.
With his request submitted, he left the inn and borrowed a sturdy crate from outside one of the unused buildings. He took a seat on it, just outside the front of the inn, during the meal. Most people came and went through the doors, and it gave him a good position without worrying about the crowding of the growing village's size packed inside one space.
When enough people decided to come out and take part, he stood back up, his long hair loosely pulled back, and the scar the cut across his face and down his arm far more visible for it. He looked around at the faces gathered, some familiar, others new, and straightened his back, standing taller and more assured. He needed people to trust him, or at least trust that what he had to say might be important. But he could not be harsh, he could not demand. He had to coax reason out, and the only way to do so was to offer his ideas as ideas, and nothing more.
"A lot has happened in this canyon. Some of you have been here for far more of it than I have. There have been hazards, storms, unusual discoveries, and violent creatures. People come and go, almost always without the slightest inclination as to how or why. I myself have gone and returned, and I remember nothing of it." He paused there, one hand holding onto the metal staff he had been using so long now it had become an extension of him. He rested it on the ground like a cane now, using it to keep himself grounded.
"This canyon is unpredictable. The dangers and threats that may face us in the future can not be anticipated wholly, and there is no way of knowing who among us will still be around to see them. But one thing is clear. I do not believe our captors have ever intended anything positive of this place. They observe, and they prevent our escape. They take our strength, our possessions, our memories," He hesitates a moment, his grip tightening on the staff, his voice sharper for a moment before settling back to an even tone. "And they toy with us. We have no idea who they are, what their true intentions may be, or how they came to bring us here, only that for now we are trapped here, together."
He looks over the group that has gathered, a frown crossing his face, his brows furrowed a moment before smoothing over. He has to choose his words carefully, and for the sometimes reckless young man, it isn't easy not to dive straight in.
"I think it's time we discuss whether or not this place needs more than the loose assortment of tasks and common, repeated actions it has as it currently stands. I believe we need a leadership in place. A council. With how unpredictable this place has proven to be, no one person can or should be trusted with that task but more dangers will come, we will face more disasters, more attacks that we can not see coming. We can not assume that we will always have the luxury of waiting until after the fact to react."
He breathes, slow and deep, and tries to find the words again, searching for the right phrasing, the right voice.
"I think a council is something we should consider. A group of people to share the burden of making tough calls or assigning tasks when things go wrong, or when something needs to get done. It will not work, however, if disagreement runs rampant underneath it. That's why I came here. At the very least, it should be discussed. If the majority is against it, I will drop the matter, but if we do not at least have this conversation, I do not think this village will last many disasters before the fragile organization the structure of it is currently built on collapses and falls apart."
Having said his piece, Ren stepped aside, and offered the area he had been speaking from to anyone who might choose to use it.
[This is a meeting post open to threadjacking, interruptions, opinions, and the like. If your character has anything to say, let them do so. I'll drop a secondary comment below for Ren specifically, otherwise go wild and respond to anyone you like or start your own thing. It's intended to be an IC discoure over whether or not the village needs some form of leadership, but any actual organizing of a leadership is not intended or planned to be formed from this meeting.]
no subject
Having it all put that way, from what he must presume is an actual politician--he can kind of see Mark's point. "I don't think we really need a law so much as some crops, and finding out what supplies our hunters need. We're already feeding everyone, I haven't met a single person who thinks anyone should be cut out of that."
Making laws and setting people to enforce them might just make it feel more like a prison, or worse--start the process of settling them in long-term. "There's a difference between leadership and being governed, in my opinion, and setting up a government just digs us deeper in here." To be fair, so did farming, but while waiting on the efforts of an escape group to bear fruit, why not bear some literal crops?
"We're a small group, and a heated topic or vote could eventually split us into numbers that aren't really great for getting by or getting out of here. Or people could stay and resent the fuck out of a slim majority. Having people dedicated to compromise or meeting the needs of both sides on some level could help, but I don't think we need lawmakers."
no subject
One thing she knows for sure, however, and this is it: she is rapidly becoming more and more out of her depth the more people arrive, and the longer winter continues.
"We're feeding everyone because I decided that we needed a better system than what I arrived to," she says, finally. Clearly. It's a gamble, this, pointing out exactly what she'd done, and highlighting some of her own power behind it. But she can appreciate some of her limits, and she can appreciate the toll of it all. She knows Benedict is worried about her, and she hates that. She also hates the knot of panic deep in her belly which grows the longer winter stretches out.
She will say this for panic, though: it does give her a sense of energy which compels the eye.
"Politics is just people, ain't it? People writ large. Which means some people are good, some are bastards, and most people just want to get on with it all. But we can't escape if we're starvin', that's what I've been sayin' all along. But the only reason we're eatin' as good as we are right now is because our captors decided to be all generous.
We can't rely on that. And beggin' your pardon, Mr Kira, but we've already had heated topics. Havin' somethin' more formal to help with organisation isn't gonna get rid of that. But regardless of whatever we all decide..."
Kate turns her head, deliberately, at Gaius Gracchus.
"Youe skill are goin' t'be need, sir," she says. "You and I can talk after this meeting is over, or tomorrow, if it suits you?"
There are points that have been annoying her, that could be done better, more efficient, to try and do a bit more than survive and rely on how it's all gone. And she knows that she doesn't have the logistics background to deal with them without drinking the rest of the alcohol.
tw historical sexism oops
He inclines his head to her in acknowledgement, as strange as it is to have a woman take such a large part in a meeting such as this. But between his wealthy, rhetorically skilled wife and his influential mother, Gaius had long ago learned to accept the opinions of those who could not take part in public life as still valuable parts of a discussion behind closed doors.
In the time he's been here, even without being able to speak much to her, he's come to recognise some of the strength of purpose of his wife, mother, even his sister, in her.
"I'm certain we would all agree you do excellent work to ensure the people who cannot fend for themselves are fed. Yet any system is fragile if it depends on one person deciding to be the one who does what needs to be done. Better to have it arranged that what is necessary is done, and to protections in place to see that it happens if something goes wrong."
He's been the man responsible for the supplies of an entire army through a harsh winter. Gaius knows the strain of being the one to ensure those things are done.
"I would be pleased to offer you whatever assistance I can."
no subject
"Setting aside political philosophy for a moment, I've got several reasons for not wanted elected leaders, if that's what we're talking about. The first being, multiple people can be capable of leading, and personally, I think a more organic approach might suit our situation a bit more. But maybe more salient is that, even if you set aside the complexities and discord that inevitably come up with electing anybody to anything, the moment that leader disappears, we have to elect someone else. That's a very real possibility, particularly when we consider the number of people who have disappeared recently. We don't know if this is the beginning of a trend or a one-off. We don't know if the rate will increase. This isn't Rome or a military encampment. We're a small, unstable population."
I point to Kira. "But what you're saying about sharing knowledge is spot-on. I was with the first group in, and I've been saying this almost since the first day: We need to share our knowledge. And I think we've done a decent job of it. I know that if something happened to me, there are a number of people who know how to plant and harvest a field. Kate has taught people how to cook. Other people have learned how to hunt. But we could improve. If you're concerned about knowing who to go to for something, committees would make sense. We can have a sort of registry. If you want to be involved in helping with the fields, or cooking, or hunting, or looking for ways out, or hunting werewolves, you put your name down. And if you don't know much about that thing, somebody teaches you, because that's the only way we ensure we survive in this place."
no subject
The general answer to the question he asked seems to be "no, there's no list." At this point, it's Clint's first priority, making people independent enough to survive if someone important does disappear, because they're a small enough group at this point that if the right person does go poof, it could collapse the whole system. "Since it's winter and we've got more time than we will in spring, maybe we could even have little classes or something in the basics, so everyone knows how to do things without help."
no subject
I say this not to win any sympathy, but because I'm not speakin' like some kind schoolboy studying at Eton to rule the bloody Empire. If I'd have left off organisin' the supplies until we were more comfortable, we'd have either died or lost our land. We aren't starvin' this moment, so we can bloody well take the time to make sure we don't starve in the future."
She doesn't like having to do this, go against Watney in public. He's older, far more educated, he deserves her respect and they work well as a united front. But somewhere, the dismissal of all her work and organisation as, Kate can cook, stings.
"Winter," she continues, "is the perfect time to organise and plan. Watney, if you vanish, who organises the planting? When do we start? That's what organisation brings. Surety, or some of it.
How many stores do we have left? Where are they kept? Is everyone gettin' fed? Collectively, we need a hundred-and-twenty pounds of food to feed the entire community, each day. Two pounds per person, a day. Except frequently, we go below that. That amount of food doesn't just appear.
How much fuel and trees are we goin' through with most scattered maybe two to a house instead of eight, ten? What equipment do we have? We've got some more clothes bein' made now, but does everyone have enough for this weather? Who is tryin' to make some decent ploughs for the spring? Or gettin' the mill workin'? Ren was interested, firstly, then Miss Romanoff, but what's been done?"
Kate stops herself, halts, slams her mouth shut to stop herself. She needs no one to dismiss her as being hysterical when she's just... tired, and worn out from worry and work.
"We have maybe sixty people here, give or take some. That's not the same as when I got here. That is big enough that if we don't organise ourselves more than our loose, anarchist ways so far, we're not goin' t'last."
no subject
But I'm also not sure if I'm getting through.
"Miss Kelly, we're talking about getting organized," I reply, as gently as I dare, not wanting her to think I'm being patronizing. "Here, maybe I'm not being clear enough."
I step across the room, to the large chalk board we carted down here after we had the talk about the pods and gathering together our information on that aspect of life here. Under Kira's suggestion, it's been facing the wall in the off chance we can be watched here in this room, but the back side is still blank. We've collected a bit of donated chalk and pieces of limestone, and I pick up some and start to write.
is what I start with in the far corner, keeping my print neat and compact to save room. Then next to it I add a few more categories in example:
"Names and categories can be added or taken away as needed. It's a public list of who either currently has knowledge or is looking to acquire it in a specific field. It's also an acknowledgement of responsibility, of volunteerism and contribution. Yes, I could be called the leader of growing our food in the fields, but since I got here I've been doing my best to teach everyone who wants to learn how to do everything associated with gathering and growing food, just as I know that you've been doing the same in the kitchen, Miss Kelly. So that if something happens to me, someone else can take up the reins. And I think that's what we all ought to be doing."
no subject
He'd been a leader of the people of Rome, but he'd done many other things in his time, too. He'd been a land commissioner. He'd been a quaestor, in charge of the supplies and stores for an entire Roman army. He'd kept that army warm and supplied through that harsh winter in Sardinia, and here people were rejecting him out of ... what? Fear of holding an election? Fear of leadership? Some version of the fear of regal power that their enemies harnessed to use against Tiberius? Miss Kelly is at least trying to explain her reticence towards government, though he doesn't understand what she means by English Protestants in Melbourne as opposed to Irish Catholics.
He's not sure, but for all the debates he's been in, he's never seen people so opposed to the very idea of someone to be their leaders, advisors, counselors. The Senate, much as he has learned to hate many of its members, is a stalwart of the Roman system. The power of the magistrates is kept in check, in theory, by the guidance of the Senate and their colleagues.
He thinks the others are wrong, but he's aware enough to know that the concept of leadership, even a council of leadership, is at an ebb. He's seen too much of that lately not to recognize when a discussion has turned against him, and when the voices raised against him are influential. He doesn't have the background knowledge of this place and these people to turn it back towards him.
In Rome, he knew the influential members of each tribe, each neighborhood, each occupation. He knew their interests and their desires and how to appeal to them, and as much of his work was on the level of speaking to them as individuals as appealing to the crowd. Without his influence, his family name, his brother's memory, his knowledge of the city, he's at a disadvantage.
So he leaves that aside, for now.
"I can take charge of the storehouse and supplies," he says, addressing the man at the chalkboard, Mark (Marcus?) Watney. "I served as --" it takes a moment to consider how best to render quaestor in English, but it's only a brief pause before he continues "-- quartermaster for three years."
As well as administering his grain dole to the people of Rome, as unimpressed as people here are by that fact. Besides, it's been too long without a project to work on, beside the slow attempt at learning English which has become so suddenly unnecessary.
"Proper organization of the stores is the only way we can answer Miss Kelly's questions, and ensure we make up any shortfall in our supplies."
no subject
"Yeah, that came out wrong," he says in agreement with Watney, giving Kate a nod of ...well, respect as well, acknowledgement that he hadn't said what he wanted to say in the best manner. He's generally good at speaking plainly, but the new situation they're all trapped in and with all the different cultures and time periods people come from here, it's a little harder to know what to say. "We need organization, we don't yet need a... Council, or whatever you want to call it. Everyone I've talked to understands that they're not gonna get through this without work, it's just getting people to work together we've gotta get a jump on. Some people know things others don't, and we need to make sure we spread that knowledge around so we're not all depending on just one person in case that person disappears. Getting a system up and going'll help that a lot, so people aren't just stumbling around in the dark here not knowing what to do, but it's not to 'government' level yet."
Like Watney is saying, teach as many people as possible and let natural skills develop. Have teams doing the important tasks. And when Watney steps up and starts making the list on the board, Clint doesn't try to hold back a sigh of relief, because that was his big question with this whole thing. Who knows how to do what? Who's contributing, or willing to contribute, or willing to learn? In case something goes wrong, who do you find to address the problem? At least now he knows who the medical personnel are.
"We could break down supplies farther than that. Hunting, gathering, farming, fishing, and livestock care at least, because sure as hell all of us are good at some of that and not the rest." His own knowledge of edible plants is basic, and while he's worked in a garden, it was mostly just pulling weeds or putting seeds in holes before covering them with dirt. "Groups to cook and bake if we've got those supplies, cut or collect fallen wood, construction and repair, maybe mechanical maintenance, scavenging, tool fabrication, smithing, butchering... anything we can think of." Clint's been counting out ideas for groups on his fingers and when he reaches the end of the list he can come up with off the top of his head, he grimaces and raises that hand to scratch the back of his head. "And there's other problems we need to think about, too - like how do we tell everyone there's an emergency without hunting everyone down and telling them one-on-one? If someone's out in the forest hunting or whatever and they get attacked or find some other kind of trouble, how do they signal they need help? What about calling a meeting without just standing out here waiting for people to gather? Do we have something to mark poisonous plants or dangerous areas out in the forest so people don't blunder into them? Is there some way we can make defenses so whatever the hell monsters are out there don't run into the village? There's at least two destroyed houses out there, have we pulled everything useable out of them?" Clint could probably go on, but he realizes that he was rambling his own thoughts and is probably verging on getting annoying - which means it's time to shut up. "Sorry, I'm used to thinking out loud. I can look into getting the mill working again if you want; depending on what's broken in there, it might just need some kind of lube to get going again."