Sixth Iteration Logs

<div class="postheader">WHO: (Who is making the post)
WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
WHEN: (When the post takes place)
OPEN TO: (Who the post is open to tags from -- Specific characters, all, none, etc.)
WARNINGS: (Please warn for adult content or anything triggering) <hr></div>
Put your post text here

tothefly

WHO: Natasha Romanoff
WHERE: South Village Fountain, Inn, Town Hall, aroundish.
WHEN: afternoon of Oct. 16th, the few days after
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: none yet, will header in comments if anything pops up

Fountain arrival: open to first two

They had been in Wakanda. She's sure they had been in Wakanda. Barnes had just gone back into cryo while they waited for test results, something to undo what HYDRA had done to his mind for all those years. Steve had been with him. Natasha had been...she'd been...

She hadn't been underwater, and now there's water all around her, and she's choking on it as instinct kicks in and she propels herself to the surface, all thoughts of where she'd been and how she'd gotten here lost for the moment in the rush for oxygen and survival. There's the surface, and she breaks through with a gasp and a choked cough, and every limb feels so heavy she could just sink right back below the surface, but there's an edge right there--is she in a pool? It doesn't matter, she hauls herself to the edge and then out, sliding to the ground and waiting for breathing to feel a little less like a foreign concept. This is definitely not Wakanda, she thinks, and she is definitely not where she went to sleep the night before. There's a lump behind her back--a backpack?--and she immediately pulls it around, going through the contents looking for answers and finding nothing but more questions.

If T'Challa had wanted her out of the country, he could have just offered her a ride, she thinks, vaguely ironic. It's fine. It's fine. She'll take a moment here to catch her breath--just a second--and then she'll be on the move again. She's woken up in worse places before.

Inn: OTA

It hadn't taken long after that first conversation for her to start feeling the itch to move, the exposure in the open space highlighted by the chill of damp clothing. The inn had been the obvious answer, and the bathroom upstairs had afforded her a better look at herself and the contents of her pack before drying off and changing into a fresh set of scrubs. The color seems to mean something, if what she's seen so far is any indication, but what exactly it's supposed to mean still evades her. At least she's always looked good in black. After a quick change, Natasha makes her way back downstairs. She isn't in Wakanda, she isn't anywhere anyone seems to have heard of, but that doesn't mean anything. Time for a little recon of her own, she thinks, and starts her exploration in the front room downstairs. It doesn't take long before she finds the village census and public records. There's a lot of information to unpack here, but she keeps finding herself going back to the same pages, over and over. How is her name in this book, if she's never been here before? There have to be answers somewhere.

Open locations: OTA

It doesn't take long for Natasha to start trying to familiarize herself with her location. Even if she's stuck here, that doesn't mean she has to stay blind. You're likely to run into her over the course of the next few days in any number of places, both public areas and maybe a few less-public. Empty houses are also a safe bet, as she tries to find a place to set up a home base, as it were, and frequently the inn, as she keeps returning to study the public records and census. No information is bad information, right? Anyway, before she goes looking for this bunker she keeps hearing about, she wants to have a better idea of what to expect out there, which means approaching people (more often than not the ones she doesn't recognize) to ask questions and hear about other peoples' experiences with the uncomfortably-named 'Observers.'

sixthiteration

WHERE: Hot Springs
WHEN: 21 Sept, after sunset
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn in your subject line as needed
NOTES: Details found here

It's been a strange, rough couple of months for our intrepid villagers — Bunkers, superpowers and clones, oh my! Perhaps the Observers are sympathetic to their plight, or maybe they just have a peculiar sense of humor. At any rate, they've set up a gathering space chalk full of summer camp goodness, no strings attached. Not that anyone knows that part.

Just before sunset, a cheery message pops up on wrist devices all across the settlement and beyond. The instructions seem simple enough, although one does have to wonder at what dubious gift awaits them all after everything is said and done.

Marshmallows are on the house, so grab yourself a stick, strap on a sash and get to roasting, villagers. Skinny dipping, sing-alongs and friendship bracelets optional.

cinere

WHO: Asch the Bloody
WHERE: Bunker/Fountain, The Inn and the woods.
WHEN: Sept 5th & 6th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Cursing, mentions of death, and possible mentions of kidnapping

Bunker/Fountain (Two at most please.)
In one of the tubes floated a young looking man. His hair was nearly to his hips and colored blood red, it looked much darker in the fluids as it floated around him. The name read out was listed as Luke fon Fabre. His eyes hadn't even opened yet when he was jettisoned up the tubes.

Green eyes popped open once he was in the fountain, swimming as hard as he could up to the top. His hands reaching up over the edge to pull himself up and over the fountains edge. Pulling himself over he hit the ground and started to cough the fluid out of his lungs, his hair draping around him and on the ground. It's in your hands now... He remembered saying it through the connection to his replica as the blood ran free. He pushed himself up despite the burning of the water he had coughed up. Pulling up the strange clothes he didn't recognize. He had only the faintest scarring from the blades that took his life.

"What the hell." He spoke sitting on his knees, a strange pack on his back, his uniform gone and he was soaked in clothes he couldn't even recognize.

The Inn
Black what a color to be in. Of course he didn't mind black at all, he looked good in black, he had always wore it in some form or another but the village had a sceme of colors it seemed, so what did black say about him?

He pondered it while sitting quietly on the floor of the front porch of the inn. Looking out at the village. Everything about this place was odd. The houses were not any style he knew but clearly homes. The village was filled with strange people who seemed to all sound unlike any country he knew. Everything was new. He found himself fiddling with the strange device on his wrist. He understood the basics of it, but how strange it was, instant communication. Opening it up his nose crinkling seeing the base display name. It took him a few moments to tape in his other name instead. aschthebloody, though he'd need help later with the caps. At least it didn't read Luke right then. Sure people could find it but that wasn't his name anymore, the dreck took it.

He sat there, trying to wait for his hair and clothes to dry in the hot weather but it was utterly boring to say the least. There was a whole new place for him to explore, a place without the score, without the memories and without Van. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself yet to move from where he had perched on the porch.

The woods - The 6th
The next morning Asch made his towards the woods, he was unarmed and that wouldn't do. Even a good stick would be better than nothing. He was not in the mind to be helpless in a new place. So he made his way through the new land. Paying mind to houses and landmarks so he could find his way back later, though truthfully he wasn't all that worried about making his way back.

Later he could be found walking through the woods, his long hair had some leaves caught in it, not that he seemed to mind. He was busy looking over the plant life looking for anything useful, anything to keep his mind busy.

iwasrussian

WHO: Natasha
WHERE: House #20
WHEN: September 2
OPEN TO: Steve and Clint
WARNINGS: None

Over eight hours Natasha dug through the computer trying to hack her way in, hoping to find answers that were more than what they had been up that point. Answers of where exactly they were, who captured them and how. Sure, the evidence was pretty straightforward but that was a conclusion that was far too jarring to accept without more. The computers had to have that information and little bit by little bit, she got something good.

As she heads towards the pod, the agent contacts the two people she trusts the most and tells them to meet her at the house.

sixthiteration

WHERE: The bunker & elsewhere
WHEN: 1 September 2018
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn on threads
NOTES: Plot Details | Bunker Details | Bunker Map & Key
Threads may take place ANYTIME during the plot, including before, during and after the tubes have been opened, just please do not godmod tube arrivals without explicit permission. Related threads not in the bunker are welcomed, as are general bunker exploration/reaction threads that have nothing to do with the arrivals. Please reference the bunker key doc for what is and isn't available to explore at present.

Deep under the mountain, tucked away in the newly-discovered bunker complex, there is a room where everyone begins. It is filled with equipment — Computer consoles, monitors — but the point of it all resides within ten vertical stasis tubes lined neatly along a far wall.

One of them has been cracked and lies dormant, dry. In six of the remaining are bodies, unconscious and floating in their familiar vari-colored scrubs, vital signs ticking calmly off on their respective readouts.

In the corner, near the cracked tube, the ceiling has shattered and tumbled inward, across the floor and over the largest console in the room — The one flashing 24 HOURS UNTIL STASIS FAILURE.

sixthiteration

WHERE: Anywhere
WHEN: August 25-26
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Mental manipulation, drowning, death
NOTES: Details here. This post is for EVERYONE, not just the affected. Please make sure and note if your thread is locked for plot purposes.

It began slowly.

A wisp of song or familiar sound on the breeze swept in from the lake. No source to be found, only the uneasy feeling it had been heard before as it coiled itself steadily inside the minds of the chosen. The sound was a mantra, pulsing soft at first and then louder, growing over days until it seemed to fill the skull, relentless. Come here, the lake whispered, cajoled, shouted. It is cool and quiet beneath the waves.

Come here, it presses now in time with the melody until there is nothing but to blindly follow. The water is calling.

sixthiteration

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.

enterprisingheart

WHO: Jean-Luc Picard
WHERE: House 20
WHEN: Shortly after Nat's arrival/throughout the rest of the month
OPEN TO: Housemates! (Beverly, Clint and Nat)
WARNINGS: None atm

For all that he won't deny that the house has felt a little empty since Wanda had vanished (and that had been more than concerning in its own right), the idea that the house would end up acquiring another inhabitant so soon isn't something that he can say that he'd expected. Not that he minds in the least bit, of course. He might not really know their latest housemate yet, but he's gathered that she's someone Clint knows and that's good enough for him. The rest will, mostly, take time.

For the most part, his routine doesn't change significantly either; when he's not spending his time working the garden or helping see to the various animals, he can mostly be found spending time with Beverly or otherwise puttering around various parts of the house. And regardless of who he should happen to run into, he always has a nod and polite smile at the very least (and is more than willing to be pulled into conversation besides).

markwatney

WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Inn front lawn
WHEN: 21 June 2018, afternoon/evening and onward
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
NOTES: A few thinsgs: You may assume your character helped set up; There are tubers in pot with the red salt, negating the warmth effect; The list of of potluck dishes is here; The list of local provisions is here

The weather is great, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon, and it's pleasantly mild. Time for an (extremely) old-fashioned low country boil.

We've got two small fire pits built out in front of the inn, each with a massive pot filled with loads of vegetables — corn, carrots, potatoes, onions — and of course the rainbow crabs Finnick and Annie discovered not long after we arrived here. We've even got salt, if you can believe it, although the red salt in this place is pretty spicy and usually makes me sweat, so I've only put it in the one pot, and then set a bowl of it out for garnishing.

Tables and chairs have been brought out from inside, a couple of them set aside specifically for piles of plates, bowls, cups and whatever potluck provisions the rest of the village brings.

pretendtoneedme

WHO: Clint Barton, Master Carpenter (kind of)
WHERE: Area past House 20, Inn common room, out in the wilds
WHEN: Through mid-June
OPEN TO: Anyone, except the third part
WARNINGS: Nothing immediately, warnings will be in comment headers if they're needed

( Destruction and Construction, out past House 20, Open )

It's become inevitable, really - the house needs more space for all the creatures living there, at least not the ones not human. Arado stayed with Clint, of course, and the now-grown chickens had their hutch and run on the side of the house not occupied with Bev's garden, but somehow Clint had ended up with Moana's pig Itiiti when the girl had disappeared and also there were more (native? were they native any more than the people were?) animals coming around, some of which could apparently be domesticated. Despite living on an actual farm, Clint had never been a farmer, but he did know at least something about animals, and more about building. Not to mention their house was out at the end of the row, still close enough to where it was fairly central but with a pretty open expanse next to it, filled with a few trees but not a full forest.

Basically, it was perfect for a corral, and whoever the dicks were that had dumped them here, they'd at least left them some new tools for getting work done. So Clint had raided the storage room at the inn, taking a lumber saw, an arborist's saw, and full-sized axe, and had started cutting down trees. These wouldn't be going for firewood, however; as the day went on, it would be clear that Clint had a more specific purpose in mind, as he used his own toolkit to measure sections of the trees to cut into logs, followed by stripping the outer bark off with the smaller saw, and then splitting them into posts and planks. There's going to be a fence around the area in about a week if he has anything to say about it. If anyone wants to wander by and ask questions or help, they'd be welcome (it's not like it's a quiet thing he's doing, after all).

( Planning For the Future, Inn, Open )

The tools they've been given are surprisingly good, he's happy to see: sturdy, either completely new or very well-kept, with equipment to see to their upkeep. It gives him a vague hope that there's a way to beat this "game," whatever it is; that these people want to see them succeed to some degree or other, and that they're willing to give them a little help along the way. He's still massively pissed off at them of course, for all the myriad other reasons people are pissed at them, but good tools are good tools and it's a bit of help he didn't expect.

And now that they have those tools, they have capabilities they didn't before, and Clint's got something cooking in his mind. The animals that are coming around, some of them are herd creatures, but some of them aren't - and he's pretty sure he's spotted some horse-like things out when he's been hunting. And right now, they don't have anywhere to put large animals where they can be safe from predators or the weather, but he's sure that residents are going to want to tame some of these guys. To that end, Clint's devised the beginnings of a plan, but it's going to be a good idea to ask for any help that he can get with it.

So one day on his lunch break at the inn, he finds a spot on the community chalkboard that's non-essential and can be erased and does so, much as he'd done the month before when people suddenly disappeared. But instead of putting up a list of names this time, he first puts up the words "BARN? - IDEAS?" and begins sketching under them. For a chalk sketch in a fairly awkward position, it's a very good drawing; Clint's obviously had a lot of practice at making (and reading) blueprints, and a lot of practice at getting freehanded lines straight (a lot more than at making his handwriting easily legible). He outlines two sections in swift chalk strokes: one, the bottom, with a door on either end and an open path connecting them, four stalls on either side, and a small window in each stall. The other looks to be the same general size and shape, but without anything other than, seemingly, a roof and a single door, more a big square than anything. In that one, he writes "hay and feed storage."

( Rodeo Time, the woods, Closed to Nat )

Getting the barn started is one thing, but Clint wants to have some sort of transportation now. They've all felt the lack of it in their time there, not being able to jump into any sort of vehicle to get where they need to be fast, and if there's a way to negate at least part of that, he wants in. Which means Clint's grabbed Nat for back up, and the two of them have gotten some of the rope in the storage room at the inn, and they're going out to try and wrangle one of the horse-things that have been spotted but always run away.

It's an overnight trip to get to where things open up more and the horse-creatures are easily visible; thankfully their captors had also provided sleeping bags and tents, and Clint and Nat are old hands at spending a night "roughing it". Hopefully this'll have a good reward, and it won't be just a wasted trip, though Clint's at least spotted some interesting plants to take back to Mark even if they don't wind up with mounts. But at last, after some long but not too rough hiking, they reach the grassy plains where the things they're looking for seem to congregate, as well as a few other animals that don't look too aggressive, but that Clint's going to keep an eye on just to make sure they don't get charged. Both of them have ropes (a climbing rope is still a rope), and both of them have some of the early fruit from the community trees in their packs to act as bait.

"I think this is about the best we're gonna get - you ready?"

iwasrussian

WHO: Natasha Romanoff
WHERE: Fountain, woods, inn
WHEN: May 29th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Violence, spoilers for Infinity War

fountain & woods

Natasha isn't sure when exactly it happened, but it's an uncomfortable shift that gives her barely the time to notice that it's even happening. One moment she was looking over Steve's shoulder, his hand touching the ground where his best friend was and in a blink after that, moments after coming to it was realized she was underwater.

She acts fast, pushing herself to the surface while noticing certain things that weren't what they were what they seemed to be moments earlier. Different clothes, a bag on her back and something around her wrist. None of it made any sense and while the ex-spy was able to put that much together, as soon as she emerged and took a look around, there was no quick understanding as to where she was.

Slowly, she lifts herself out without much of a sound and instead of stay there to go through the bag and investigate the device on her wrist, Natasha is off to find the person who dropped her in the fountain in the first place. They couldn't have gotten far.

Taking to the woods, Natasha sticks to hiding for the first little while. Both looking for familiar faces and anyone that appears to be in charge.

inn

None of it makes any sense, nor has it sunk in that any of it's real. The concept is.. well, believable, given what she's just come from. But that's something she'll need to process later.

A walk turned into arriving at the inn; a place she was told had food and drink. She didn't have much of an appetite, but she was rather hoping for a drink.

seekingcrocodile

WHO: Killian Jones
WHERE: 6I inn
WHEN: February 21st
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mild animal death?

February 17

He's heading for the river to do some fishing when he sees the first flash of red among the dead leaves littering the forest floor. It's an unusual place for such a bright color, especially at this time of year, so he bends over to pick it up. He notices first that it's addressed to him, complete with title: Captain Killian Jones. Then when he turns it over, there's the flame insignia that keeps popping up everywhere, the one that no one has been able to figure out what it means. He knows what it means this time though. It's a message to him from whoever's behind this.

He's heard about these letters, but thankfully hadn't gotten one of his own yet. He's not interested in playing their little game, so he tucks the letter aside and continues to the river. By the time he's got his nets set, curiosity has gotten the best of him, and he pulls the letter back out to read it.

This one's different from the ones he's heard about. This one promises that if he sacrifices another living creature, he will be allowed to return home. And for a moment, he contemplates it. It says living creature – it's not like it says a person. But no, in the end, despite everything that's waiting for him at home, he can't bring himself to do it. Despite what he's heard about the letters, he tears it up and tosses it in the river, letting the current carry it away.

February 18 & 19

The second letter he finds waiting for him in his kitchen when he goes in to make breakfast, as though someone thinks that yesterday he may have failed to notice the first one and they want to be sure he gets this one. Still uninterested in what it directs him to do, he tosses this one in the fireplace without reading it, not even caring to watch it turn into ashes.

The third morning, the letter is next to his pillow when he wakes up. Whoever is leaving them for him is getting more insistent. By this point, when he's had two days to think it over, two nights to dream of home, it's harder to resist what the letter is telling him. He might be more used to worlds like this than ones with modern conveniences, but he really does miss hot showers. And Emma, most of all. If the letter is to be believed, he could see her again. But could he really leave everyone here behind? Maybe the best way he can help them is from the outside, and to do that, he has to be able to leave.

But the desire to see Emma again, that's the real deciding factor. So he has a plan, and he'll be free of the letters and get to see Storybrooke and all of its residents again. When he heads out into the woods, it's not to go fishing. He chooses a likely spot and stands and waits, until at last he catches a flash of movement. It's easier than he expected: just lifting his foot and crushing the snake underneath. All he can do now is hope it's sufficient to meet the requirements of the letter, and wait.

February 21

He's determined this morning. Not that anything can be changed today; he knows better than that. But he also knows the power of working together, and that the only way they'll accomplish anything is if they do.

He picks up a spare piece of wood and writes a message on it with chalk: "Town meeting this afternoon." Then he props it outside the door of the inn and hopes the message gets around.

That afternoon, he picks up the chalk again and starts making notes on the chalkboard. Four columns' worth: scrub color, request, reward offered, reward delivered. Then he fills in the columns with his own information: black, sacrifice, return home, and an emphatic NO. Then he turns to address whoever has gathered so far.

"I apologize for bringing you here from whatever you were doing, and I know we've discussed those letters before. I don't know that we came to any kind of conclusion about them, because I don't know that we can. They may have seemed relatively harmless before, or at least concerned with minor requirements, but they're not anymore."

He holds up an unburned portion of his that he fished out of the ashes before coming here. "This one told me that if I sacrificed another living creature, I would be allowed to go home. This one lied. It wasn't home. It was an illusion that lasted for a day, and then I was aware that I had never left."

He points at the chalkboard behind him. "I don't know what we can do about these letters, but they've shown no sign of stopping. I figure we at least ought to know what we can about them. If you've received one, there's room on the chalkboard to fill out some details about them. It's not much of a start, but it's a start. Maybe we can find a pattern. Maybe there isn't one. But we won't know if we don't keep track. And of course, theories are always welcome, whether you've gotten a letter or not. If you haven't gotten one, consider yourself lucky. And keep an eye out."

That's all he has to say. Stick around and have a conversation if you want. He just wanted everyone to know that the letters are still coming, and that they've upped their ante.

[ooc: I've also got a spreadsheet for this information here. Anyone should be able to edit it.]

unmakeme

WHO: Natasha Romanoff
WHERE: mostly the roofs of abandoned houses, or any house that's got a lot of snow and ice on it
WHEN: after the ice storm, from the 20th on
OPEN TO: anyone
WARNINGS: Very unsafe home maintenance conditions? Don't climb on an icy roof without any gear. It's dumb.

It's been a rough few days, but the freaky weather is no longer a surprise to her. Just because so many of the houses are currently empty doesn't mean they will stay that way. A house with a caved in roof is pretty useless. Not to mention, with the random freaky weather, there's no way of knowing when it might take another abrupt turn. There's no way of knowing much for certain here. So, there are roofs with ice, and ice boxes without it. The solution is a pretty obvious one. Natasha also happens to be be fairly confident that she can go monkeying around on an icy roof without cracking her head open.

So that's what she's doing, on abandoned buildings (and even occupied buildings if they look like they can't take the weight bearing down on them) with a small hatchet and a bucket. Removing one obstacle and, hopefully, turning it into something useful. Though it's slow going, and there's just as much of a chance that the cold weather will continue and this will be half useless folly. She hasn't been asking people if she can go climbing on their houses. She's surprisingly quiet, and there's no reason to drag someone to their door and force them to let out their precious heat if she doesn't have to. Still, no one can completely control how loudly ice cracks, and quiet is not the same as silent, especially when one is bundled up against the cold. Santa Claus would be a much nicer surprise, but it's just Natasha. Sorry, guys.

Not to mention, breaking the ice up is an inexact science. Occasionally a small chunk will go rogue, sliding off the edge of a roof. Not enough to do real damage, but certainly enough to startle. She manages to call down "watch out" or "stand back" each time, just in case someone is under the eaves. Still, slow reflexes could easily mean a bump on the head.

When all is said and done, the end result is ice. A lot of it. She leaves a note on the wall at the Inn, as well as a few on the doors of other town buildings. Anyone who wants it is welcome to it. She'll even bring it around. Ditto with the clearing of the ice on your roof, if she hasn't already gotten to it.

scepterschild

WHO: Wanda Maximoff
WHERE: All Over
WHEN: November 10th – 22th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: Mentions of traumatic events.

At first it was small things. Wanda forgot names and faces of those she met in the village. Something would remind her again but each day was harder. Her memories had become unclear and it took a specific question or comment to pluck a memory into focus. After a few minutes into a conversation she'd remember someone but the memory would slip away a moment later. Then she started to forget events. How long had she been in the village? It was almost a year or was it a few months. The sun wasn't going down... the fireflies... drowning. Wanda was acting strange but managed to keep her thoughts and concerns to herself. It was only after the feast that everything got worse.

November 11th - 12th | House 20

That morning, Wanda couldn't remember where she was. She woke up in her room but it was unfamiliar to her. Panic jolted through her limbs as she scrambled to get dressed and pack a bag to take with her. She didn't know where she was going but she felt like she couldn't stay here. Wanda packed a change of clothes, a bottle of whiskey that she didn't remember steeling from the feast and some food. With her backpack slung over her shoulder she crept out of the room and down the hall towards the front area of the house.

Wanda wasn't aware that Clint lived there too or that he was out that morning. All she knew was that she had to get out of here, get somewhere safe. When she stepped onto the front porch she paused.

"Where am I?" She muttered the words to herself before fleeing out of the house and into the closest patch of trees.

November 13th - 16th | Forest

Surviving; that was what Wanda had to do. She moved through the forest, tracing her way back to town in order to swipe things from a few of the houses and inn. She could be found hunting or searching for a place to sleep in one of the broken or abandoned houses. There were flashes of memories now but they were fleeting, like sand shifting and falling through her fingers. Her memories had no context and it was starting to drive her crazy.

"I am an Avenger!" She shouted at the tree before punching it hard with her fist. Then the memory slipped away and Wanda felt a new kind of panic rise through her.

"Pietro? Where are you?" Her voice shook. There were hazy imagines. Her brother was shot, he needs her help, but then those images would be forgotten.

Her brother would never leave her side. Not like this. Where was he?

November 22nd | Inn Roof

Wanda didn't know what was going on anymore. She knew that she wasn't in Sokovia, despite the cold weather, but she couldn't remember anything else. Had Hydra done this?

A list of unanswered questions filtered through her head as she sat on the roof of the inn. She liked listening to the people bustling around below her, it made her feel a little less alone. Her memories were hazy and unclear and if she focused on something for too long it would be even harder to recall. She wanted to scream and yell but she didn't even know who to blame.

She popped the lid to the whiskey bottle she had stolen and drank. It wouldn't help but maybe for a few hours she'd be numb to the pain that was welling inside of her. It took a lot for Wanda to get drunk but she knew that this bottle would do it. She would also be sleeping on the roof for the night, nestled in the snow that had been left after the storm.

Wild Card

[ooc: If you want to interact with Wanda while she's experiencing any of the past events in 6i, you are welcome too. She's been around for awhile and can get stuck in remembering that something is happening when it isn't. These memories would happen before the 10th but I'm totally open to it.
Her tread tracker has the posts for those events if it interests you and you'd like ideas.

You are also welcome to tag at any point in the prompts.]

ex_assertiveness90

WHO: Stella Gibson
WHERE: The inn + Stella and Peggy's house
WHEN: Backdated to early October
OPEN TO: OTA except where marked
WARNINGS: This post got more sad than anticipated :( Otherwise, none as yet.

ota;

Stella first notices something's wrong when Credence doesn't show up to meet her for tea at the inn one evening like he'd suggested. This is Credence Barebone, whom she's always known to be a conscientious, punctual young man, who would have warned her in advance if he'd planned to meet her somewhere and then couldn't make it. It's still possible he's been waylaid by something minor, but Stella learned a long time ago to listen to her gut instincts, and her gut is telling her something feels off. She waits till the next morning to go on the hunt — and what she finds is an empty house, both Credence and Graves gone, their things left about as if they'd suddenly got up and run off in the middle of something... or been abducted, or simply vanished. She doesn't touch anything or take anything, because it's not hers to take, but she's seen enough people suddenly disappear from the village to know what's happened here.

It occurs to her, too, that she hasn't seen Sonny since the day she pulled him out of the fountain after he'd nearly drowned trying to get himself home, and a cursory check reveals much the same scenario. Then she hears from Peggy that she hasn't seen Steve, and fuck, it must be the time of year — it must be autumn, with the way the weather's turning and the note she'd made in her diary this morning about how she's been here nearly a year now when she arrived in the middle of winter. It's just a season, and Stella's far from superstitious, but autumn in so many cultures means loss and melancholy. Or maybe it's just the observers, fucking with them again as always.

There are reasons Stella doesn't allow herself to get too close to people, though the reasons here and at home are different — here, it's out of self-protection against scenarios just like this one, when inevitably someone she cares about will disappear. The problem, naturally, is that she's a human woman and it's in human nature to want to care about things and people, and she can only do so much to control when that happens. Her many years of practice at keeping her emotions carefully regulated keeps her from showing too much of what she's feeling on her face, but anyone who happens to run into her while she's sitting in the inn common room with her usual cup of herbal tea that evening will notice she seems a little more distant than usual.

It's been nearly a year, she realizes again, which means it's got to be nearly her birthday. And Stella usually doesn't care one way or the other about her birthday but shit, she'd meant to be spending her 45th birthday at home in London after putting Paul Spector behind bars like he'd deserved, not trapped in what amounts to a fucking prison herself.

locked to peggy;

Stella has her tea, and allows herself time to converse with a couple of people, but eventually she makes her way back to the house. By now it's nearly dark; she goes to her bedroom and fetches the quilt off her bed, then goes back to the living room, lights a couple of candles, and sits down on the sofa with the quilt draped over her to wait up for Peggy. It's not winter-cold, not even close, but she's always felt cold easily and the extra layer helps.

Peggy had gone out to look for Steve earlier, and though Stella had offered to go with her she'd insisted otherwise. There's a lot of ground to cover in this village and the one on the other side of the canyon wall both, and it might have gone easier with two people, but Peggy's as stubborn as she is and Stella knows she can only get so far with her when she's so determined.

She's half-asleep when she hears the front door open and close; the sound wakes her up completely, and she pushes off the quilt and gets off the sofa to meet Peggy halfway. Maybe there's some good news out of this terrible fucking day — but by the look Stella can see on the other woman's face, she doesn't think so.

She waits, quiet, to let Peggy broach the topic — to allow her the time to collect her thoughts.

majorlyugh

WHO: Major Lilywhite
WHERE: Major/Ravi's cabin, around the village
WHEN: Mid-October
OPEN TO: All, specific starter for Ravi
WARNINGS: PUPPIES.

Major had been lured outside by the sound of whimpering. Every ounce of softness and kindness he'd ever held in his body had been tingling like a small fire, spreading over the expanse of his body from head to toe at the sound. When he had opened the door, two boxes were sitting side-by-side on the porch - one about half the size of the other and, to his surprise, moving around like one of those fake ferret toys for cats, the kind that's glued to a mechanical ball that moves around.

Only a little less erratic.

He took the stationary box in first, setting it off to the side of the living room, before returning to get the one that had now seemed to calm down a little bit. As he lifted it, there was a quiet yelp from the inside, and Major knew in an instant what the mystery box's contents were, without having to remove the lid.

He sets the box down in the middle of the living room, carefully lifting up the cover to reveal the small, Basset Hound puppy gazing up at him inside. At the sight of his face, it lets out another yelp, this one happier but still pleading, and tries to stand on its hind legs to see outside the open top of the box. It doesn't quite have the hang of what it means to be coordinated yet, and so it tumbles backwards, causing a very loud "AWW!!" to come rushing out of Major's mouth.

He reaches inside, carefully scooping the puppy up in his arms. Once near enough, it begins to lick his face and squirm around in his grip. As Major's trying to check the box for any other dog-related items, the puppy manages to wiggle its way out of his arms and, before he can manage to do anything to stop it, runs straight out of the door that Major's foolishly left open by mistake.

He opens his mouth to shout a name, but realizes he doesn't have one at the ready, so he shouts the only thing he can think of:

"HEY! ... HEY YOU! COME BACK!" as he scrambles to his feet and out the door, chasing after the bounding, long-eared puppy.

collaronhisneck

WHO: Father Francis Mulcahy and others
WHERE: Various, check starters
WHEN: September 2nd through 4th
OPEN TO: Everyone, but only the last prompt will be an open in full. The rest are first come, first served in order to prevent Topic Fatigue.
WARNINGS: None so far; mentions of wartime problems may come up

( fountain, September 2, open to Major )

Considering he'd gone to sleep in his normal rickety cot, the familiar sounds of an April night outside Uijongbu drifting through the lashed-down sides of his tent, the rumble of engines passing by on the road in the distance...

Well, the last thing he expected to wake up to was water.

Jolting awake with the sudden plunge and the screaming lack of air, instinct kicks in just like his feet, and Mulcahy surges in the direction he hopes is upwards, towards light and away from the darkness, a stray thought passing through his mind that he hopes he's not heading for The Light just yet. There's so much left to do, after all. The coughing starts when he founders into the early morning light, because he'd managed to swallow some of the water before he surfaced, though fortunately it seems to be coming out fairly easily. What he doesn't realize right away is that his glasses seem to have disappeared; he's more concerned with catching the rim of the fountain and clinging to it while he spits up the water that invaded his esophagus. Not the most comfortable of welcomes, this.

( inn, hospital, and church prompts under the cut )

unmakeme

WHO: Natasha and anyone who wants to swap theories about the pod or help her out
WHERE: Running through the village on the way between the pod, her house, and back again. Then the pod for a few days.
WHEN: First few days of July
OPEN TO: Anyone and everyone! 1 July is open to anyone who might run across her in town. After that, it'd have to be someone who knows she's at the pod, or who has their own reason to be there.
WARNINGS: n/a

( 1 July, afternoon/early evening - passing through town, round trip )

( from 1 July late evening forward - back in the pod )

unmakeme

WHO: Natasha and Hawke
WHAT: being the unlucky two in the cave when the pod opens
WHEN: July 1st
WHERE: the cave behind the waterfall

The vibrating arrowheads are no less unsettling after Sam finds a weird pod behind the waterfall, making it most likely that the arrowheads have been reacting to that and not to the waterfall itself. This is apparently not even the first weird pod to turn up, because this place needs help getting even creepier. Unknown forces causing weird shit and lining right up with the weather getting super drunk and deciding the rules no longer apply? Feels vaguely like home. Thor's previous assurances aside, she's still expecting Loki to turn up any day now, smug and insufferable.

The vibrating shiny artifacts could offer some way to combat whatever is inside the pod (that they still can't get open), though it's just as likely the little arrowheads could spell doom. Won't know until something happens, and Natasha hates the sit around and wait part of tense situations like these. So she finds something to do. In this case, that something is hunting for as many of the arrowheads as she can find. Whether they'll help or hurt, they're clearly related, and that's something.

unmakeme

WHO: Natasha Romanoff
WHAT: an open post for being hot and miserable, exploring, and also attempting to shield some plants from the sun
WHEN: all of June
WHERE: the river, while it's still a thing, and anyplace with shade once it's not

( River )

( Fields )

Wildcard!

Natasha is going to be mostly in the water, or searching out shade, but as long as you don't want her to work up a sweat, she's always up for a chat.

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with marvel: natasha romanoff

Credits & Style Info

01. arrival

[MINGLE] Scout's Honor

(no subject)

not the game I want to play

[MINGLE] PLOT: Down the Tubes: Alarm

[MINGLE] PLOT: Siren's Call

[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

(no subject)

[MINGLE] Crab Boil

I'm Fixing a Hole Where the Rain Gets In and Stops My Mind from Wandering

she's a killer queen

Second star to the right [Mingle post]

[OTA] i was going to make an ice man cometh joke, but even i know that one's a stretch

008 Who are you? [OPEN]

i know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay.

[who let the dogs out?]

Dear God, Give Me Courage, for Perhaps I Lack It More Than Anything Else

sharing pod information, rain and earthquake stuff, and fighting with super broken computers

Pod Opening

stuff from june