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>
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notan_animal

WHO: Logan Howlett
WHERE: Here, there and everywhere!
WHEN: Jan 25th, afternoon
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: Beware of antlers and moose droppings.
STATUS: Closed

Logan was pretty good at blending into most backgrounds. If no one bothered him, he wouldn't bother them; a fact that went on for the majority of his life. Then again, if anyone didn't know that, all they had to do was see the expression on his face. That usually conveyed things well enough.

But that particular day, there was something, or someone who felt the mutant needed to be more social. Give Logan a reason to be looked at, approached and drawn attention to. And every since that morning, he felt like he was on one of those gag shows.

He'd been cutting wood and after hearing some rustling coming from the shrubs behind him, Logan took a look at saw the antlered animal staring at him. Logan stopped, lowered the ax and raised an eyebrow.

"Got nothin' for you, bub." he called out, watching the animal move a few steps closer and linger. Logan shook his head. "Not kidding. You'll have better luck in the trees."

Nothing did, the moose wasn't planning on moving. So, Logan sighed, went about finishing his cutting while it circled around and continued to watch him cut the wood. Even after disappearing into the house, it still remained close by. When he thought it was gone, he put on his jacket and headed out again, this time to make the trek to the Inn to get something to eat.

Halfway down the road, Logan heard a snort and looked over his shoulder. "You're kidding me. People are in short supply round here. You want to get shot? Don't say I didn't warn ya."

And off the two went in the direction of town.

fishermansweater

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: Evening of January 20th
OPEN TO: EVERYBODY! Kate and Finnick will be doing their best to make sure everyone ~~is summoned~~ knows
WARNINGS: ~~Who knows with Finnick?~~ Nothing expected.
STATUS: Open!

It's late in the day by the time Finnick and Annie return to the village. They've pushed the timing as late as they can: while the auroras are still lighting up the night well enough to see by, they do nothing for the cold that creeps deeper under Finnick's skin with the sinking of the sun. And they definitely do nothing for the snow that had begun to fall again while Finnick and Annie were in the cave, their light dimmed somewhat by the heavy clouds.

The Careers need to get back to the village, and night falls early, now it seems to be something like midwinter.

They'd discussed whether or not to tell the villagers what they'd found. Finnick had thought they'd be giving up a vital potential advantage, but ...

Annie had been right that hiding what they'd found would damage their standing, and while he doesn't care about their reputation here much, he does care that Annie thinks they should be trying to get themselves closer to the villagers, not further away from the community. It has seemed to be the point of their gifts.

So when they make it back to the village at around dusk, they don't skirt around the houses like they usually do, sneak their way through the edges of the woods and find a roundabout way to get back to their house. Today, they go straight for the crossroads at the centre of the village, and straight into the Inn.

Finnick needs to find Kate Kelly, because she knows how to make things happen around here, and if they're going to tell everyone what they found, they need the villagers to gather.

"Kelly," he tells her when she finds her, "We need to call a town meeting. There's something people should know."

So it is that as night falls over the rooftops, gleaming green in the aurora-light as it bounces off snow, people who arrive response to a summons to the large main room of the Inn will find Finnick standing at the front of the room, holding a sketchbook. His ever-present spear is resting against the wall next to him, just next to their meticulously sketched map of the canyon on the stolen curtain.

There's a new mark on one side of the canyon walls.

[ This is your standard mingle-type meeting post! Finnick will have an OTA comment but feel free to mingle, start your own things, threadjack, whatever. ]

bit_fairytale

WHO: Amy Pond
WHERE: Outside the Fountain / The Woods
WHEN: January 4th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Potential, incredibly likely yelling
STATUS: Open

(I)

In her last moments, she's not entirely sure what to expect. Will it hurt? Will she regret it? Will something happen that makes her take back her insistence that the Doctor blink for her? What if she doesn't end up in the same place as Rory, what if something goes wrong and she's stuck away from him and the Doctor forever? Then she doesn't have any time to think because when she opens her eyes, it turns out that the angel's sent her to the bottom of the bloody Hudson river. Thrashing her way up, Amy inhales air as deeply as she can, scrambling and hauling herself out of an icy fountain to find that not only has she been sent to the wrong place, but all her clothes are gone and they've gone and strapped something bulky on her back. Glancing at her surroundings to make sure no one's about to come out of the treeline with anything sharp, Amy takes her time shifting through the bag, peering at the long johns with a wrinkle of her nose.

"No thank you," she says, jamming them at the very bottom of her bag, shivering wildly as her hair starts to ice at the ends with the continued exposure to the cold, but that's in her periphery for her attention. She bundles up in her coat while scanning the area, wiping tears from her cheeks when she realizes that she's been crying since she got out of that stupid looking fountain. "Rory?" she tries, an echoing croak in a quiet space. Trust a weeping angel to muck everything up. Bundling herself a little tighter, Amy shoves everything back in her bag, glancing down to see a shade of green she doesn't even think she owns anything in, anymore, and hauls the bag over a shoulder as she sets out to find out where it is she's landed.

Apparently, judging from the buildings and the lack of anything like technology, there's a creeping fear that she's gone too far back. What did New York look like in the 1800's? The 1700's? Why isn't the Doctor here when she needs her? Why doesn't she know this sort of thing? Stubbornly readying herself, she starts in the direction of one of the paths, heart pounding wildly, as if she's going to turn around and there'll be an angel there, ready to take her life because it turns out she can't trust them after all and it's all just some elaborate, cruel trick. It's ten minutes before she sees someone, but when she does, she won't pretend that she doesn't flail and charge towards them.

"Hey!" she shouts, at the top of her lungs so that people in the neighbouring hemisphere would be just as likely to hear Amy as the person she's shouting at. "Stop right there and you tell me where Rory Williams is, or I swear to you, I will..." she presses her lips together and stares down at her boots, which are really tightly laced, so there goes taking that off and punting it at them. "I'll probably just shout some more, but I can be very cross. Because," she says, eyes blazing with determination, "I just lost my husband at least three times today and I am tired of tracking him down through time and space and I'm not leaving until I've got some answers!"

(II.)

The woods remind her of the forest on the ship, all those years ago when they were fleeing the angels. Those stupid weeping angels have been there for some of the worst parts of Amy's life, but she'd really thought that by making the choice to go back in time to find Rory had been the right one. The only trouble is that finding Rory is turning out to be more of a production than she'd expected.

She's been wandering around for hours now, with a quick stop in a few homes where someone had mentioned seeing someone that fit Rory's description, but with no idea where he might be. Once her hair had dried and she'd warmed up past the point of 'shivering her knickers off', Amy had gone for the woods. Maybe Rory's out here, trying to find a way out (trying to find a way to her). Maybe she'll find him and it'll have been barely a few seconds since he'd been stolen by the angel. Not likely, but whatever, sometimes miracles happen. After all, she helped reboot the universe with the Doctor in it, why shouldn't she be able to find Rory in a small little forest?

Out here, the snow is beautiful and untouched, but at the same time, that level of pristine nature also sends a chill down her spine. Hearing footsteps behind her, she tries to find something to defend herself, thinking that maybe she should have started with that, given that she ends up with a branch that looks more like a feather duster than a weapon, but it's something.

"I hope you're here to help," she warns as she turns, wielding out the branch, "or I'll...tickle you until it's really uncomfortable," she warns, and hopes that she can make that seem somehow frightening.

specialise

WHO: Raven Reyes.
WHERE: The Inn, the Bungalows, the Fountain.
WHEN: December 18 - 24.
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: Possible mentions of depression as well as previous violence.
STATUS: Open! Please keep in mind there's a few prompts below and I'd like to limit each one to a couple of people for a variety of different situations!
SUMMARY: Raven's being reunited with her bum leg for a week.
( I WAS LOOKING AT A RIVER BED )

turned_to_steel

WHO: Sansa Stark
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: December 20th
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: Will update if needed
STATUS: OPEN

Sansa had her jaw clenched and her hands buried deep in her pockets, hurrying towards the Inn as quickly as she could make herself go without running. It was tempting to run but she didn't trust the snow that clung to the ground and the fact that there could possibly be ice patches somewhere underneath. She didn't relish the idea of possibly slipping and hurting herself when she was supposed to be going to the Inn to get her first lesson in cooking breakfast.

So she was more than grateful for the heat she felt when she reached the front door and pushed it open to let herself inside the nice, warm building. Stomping her feet, she shut the door and looked up to see if she could spot Kate anywhere. What she found instead was enough to have her eyes going wide and her lips parting in surprise at the sight of boxes stacked everywhere in the main room. It didn't matter where she looked, there seemed to be a new stack of varying heights and sizes. So many of them that she wasn't even sure she could count them all.

It wasn't like the box she had found on her front step, though. These boxes were wrapped in pretty paper of different colors and designs, and all with a tag sitting on top of each one.

Unbuttoning her jacket, she moved to the closest stack of boxes and took a peek at the first tag that was visible to her. She recognized both names and found herself blinking in confusion while she glanced at the second tag. Had everyone else found a way to get presents to give to someone else and she had missed it? She wondered briefly if maybe it was something that had been planned from before she had arrived but why hadn't her brothers mentioned it to her? It was something she was still puzzling over until she found a tag that was intended for someone else but had her name on it as well.

A quick search at another stack had her finding a present that was intended for her.

Still curious and wanting answers, Sansa set her jacket aside and went back to the first stack of boxes. Plucking the first box off the top, she set it to the side and moved the second box to another area. By the time someone came downstairs or came inside, Sansa was making new piles sorted by the name of who the presents were meant for. She thought it would be easier for people to find their presents rather than everyone stomping around poking through every stack and reading every tag.

[ooc: This is a mingle post for people to find their presents if they are located at the Inn! If you wish to, please feel free to have your character find their stack of presents already sorted.]

lastofthekellys

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!]

lastofthekellys

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 24th November
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: TBA
STATUS: OPEN

Aside from the days when she'd been too drunk or too hungover to get up, Kate's kept a farmer's hours all her life. Even in winter, when the bitterly cold winds that'd come up from the south and make its way through the cracks and holes in her ma's hut, she'd get up, get dressed, do her chores. But lately, it's been harder to extract herself from her bed. Benedict's been sharing her bed more often than not lately, and the chasteness of their interactions does nothing to change how warm and safe she feels. How little she wants to get up, get dressed, go out into the colder spaces of the Inn and do her work.

So, today, she's late getting out of bed - at least, by her standards. She's late getting down the stairs. She's late, so she's hurrying; she lazed in bed, and now she needs to start the fire in the main room. Start the fire, open the shutters, show that the Inn is standing and warm. And welcome, so she moves the -

No, Kate doesn't move the chairs stacked precariously at the front door as a rudimentary alarm of someone, something, coming through, because the chairs are gone. She neither dismisses it as one of the residents not getting the message, nor panics. Instead, she just opens the shutters to let in the dawn light and see if there are footprints, except, no, the snow has mostly cleared. The day is sunny. As welcome as it is, that doesn't help at all. Miss Hoppity jumps down from the foyer's desk to rub her face against Kate's skirt, apparently entirely unconcerned.

Kate eyes the cat for a moment, then approaches the closed doors leading to the main room. Closed, but with light coming through the cracks between door and floor, door and door frame. Cautiously, Kate opens one of the doors and peers in.

Then, she gapes.

The fire is blazing - hot, cheery - but so are the candles. The candles: candles on the unused candlesticks, candles clustered on tables, light up sideboards. Candles bobbing in bowls of water and apples. Candles white, yellow and red, when the village had none. Boughs of wheat, corn, decorate tables and the mantle over the fire, apples and pumpkins and collections of yellow, orange, red flowers seem to be everywhere.

And the food.

Each table is piled high with food. Roasted, baked, cooked on stoves and Kate knows how to cook, she knows how long this would all take, how many people, and it's impossible. What she's seeing is impossible to have done with the resources on hand: even an attempt would have woken up the whole building.

Disbelieving, Kate walks in. For a moment, she's entirely dumbfounded. Miss Hoppity, however, is nothing of the sort. The cat has leapt up onto the sideboard next to Kate and - well, Kate isn't sure what happens next. Just that suddenly there's movement and something large seems to lunge at her. Miss Hoppity yowls and speeds off: Kate screams as she battles something, falling backwards and hitting the floor along with a broken bowl of water, spilled apples and some tiny candles, and her attacker.

Pushing the food-turkey off her, Kate sits up and is, for once, entirely lost for words.

lastofthekellys

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 7th November | Noon
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open and onging!

Since that first lunch at the Inn, Kate Kelly has kept them up. Every day, without fail - even when she went missing and then was recovering, people continued in the kitchen to make sure the community gets their daily midday meal. She's proud of that, and she thinks she's allowed to be.

Today is no different.

The food is dropped off, the volunteers gather to chop and stir and cook and serve, the community gathers to eat, and then it is time to clean everything. If there is still no alcohol, well...

There's tea. And a coffee substitute made from chicory. And... Water.

So come on in, help at the kitchen or pull up a chair in the pub in front of the fire, and enjoy some warm food and company while the outside cold (and death) stays firmly outside.

[OOC: All sections are completely free for all! You can handwave your character helping out or thread it out, or just jump in to them eating. All characters are ICly invited, as they are every day.]

seekingvinland

WHO: Thorfinn
WHERE: Around the Village
WHEN: Saturday, October 29th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open!

Thorfinn's day hadn't started well, loud screams ripping through the house until he was pulled out of his sleep by either or both of those he lived with. The nightmares were worse than than had been for a long time, he had sat at the end of his bed staring off into space until he realize what was outside of his open window. Snow. He shot across the room fast taking in a deep breath of the cold air outside. Like a child at yule, it was everything his soul needed.

The cold sticking to his face. He smiled leaning half out the window, it was only when a few snow flakes landed on his bare chest he remembered that it wasn't the best idea. Pulling himself back inside it was time to get to work. Layers. Layers were important in the snow. The long johns pulled on under the outfit chosen for the day. The stained up scrubs pants and the tunic Kate made. He pulled the black wool coat from the back. It wasn't a style he knew but he had asked about it before and pulled it on. He made his way out of the room stopping long enough to clean his face and braid his hair down over his ears to keep them warm. He was already missing a chunk of one, so he tended to style his hair over the ear to hide the fact it was missing a bit.

"Going for wood, we will need more!" He called upstairs before closing the door. he didn't bother making a fire, he was sure Jo or Kol would take care of it if they intended to stay indoors. No sense burning wood if no one would be home. Once he was outside he found himself unbuttoning the coat again. Strange, he expected it to be much colder. The snow was nice though.

Swinging the axe over his shoulder he headed for the woods.

It was around noon when he made his way back from dropping more wood off at home. He was brushing wood chips off himself as he made his way across the village. Trying to decide if he should go to the inn and see how Kate and the other's were holding up, or go to the blacksmith to give forging the Bog iron another try. In the end he just ended up walking with his arms crossed over his chest. Taking in the beauty of the world around him.

lastofthekellys

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 10th - 13th
OPEN TO: Helen Magnus | E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: TBA
STATUS: Closed | Open

Closed to Helen

Once Kate's back in the Inn - once she and Margaery have been found, once the forest lets them be found - her first port of call is her bedroom. She wants clean clothes, dry clothes. She wants to warm up and she's too cold to bother much about propriety.

Someone said something about getting Helen Magnus, but, really, Kate is fine. Scratches, including one across her nose. Bruises. Her ankle is painful, but she's fine. She just needs to warm up and maybe sleep, which is why she's in the bathroom, half-undressed, sitting in the bath and scrubbing at her skin with a warm washer.

She wants clean clothes, dry clothes, but she can't pull those on until she's warm and clean. She just...

She can't.

Open

Mostly, after Miss Magnus has sorted her out, Kate spends a lot of her time sleeping. In her few lucid moments, she thinks it is not unlike as if her body has suddenly realised how little she's been sleeping, and is trying to catch it all up at once. She gets out of bed to eat, to perform necessary bodily needs, and then she goes back to bed.

Once, she goes for a brief walk, because just being inside was making her feel awful, but only a brief one, where she wound up seeing Miss Carter. Then, it was to the Inn and her warm, warm bed.

By the second day after her and Miss Margaery's rescue, she's progressed to sitting up. It's all terribly indulgent of her, but people fuss when she tries to do anything more serious than checking up on her chicks, and she's so very tired. She can relax this once, can't she?

So Kate sits in bed and she sews. She plays with Miss Hoppity, who alternates between clinging to her as if worried that her human mama will vanish again and ignoring her, as cats do. She combs out her long hair with her fork, which takes rather more time than she'd admit. She naps. When she feels adventurous, or rather, when she's tired of her bed being so seductively warm, she sits at the chair at her dresser in the little alcove her room has, and sews there by the light of the now appearing sun.

She leaves her door open when she's awake, to let anyone come in when they want to. She might feel awkward admitting that sitting by herself is lonely, when she's been ordered to rest, but she does get that way.

womanofvalue

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Outside the Inn
WHEN: Late October 11th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mature clothing
STATUS: Closed

Naughty Surprises

When the box arrives on her doorstep, at first Peggy thinks that perhaps it's simply James' turn for a gift. The package is a small one, the likes of which she'd found her hair items in earlier, and though she still doesn't understand the ability of a prison like this to deliver them such luxuries, she's also not about to turn them away. She's even turned over her shoulder to summon Barnes when she gets a better look at the name on it.

It's her name. Odd, though. After the last few, Peggy can't imagine what more she might require. Certainly, the seeds and the pigeons have been somewhat useful and the hair frivolities are a lovely little treat, but what more could she need? Settling on the front steps in order to open it and find out, she discovers that apparently, there is a cruel streak of humour in whomever is sending her such gifts.

The top two items are practical. They appear to be quite skimpy, but look like they will support her quite well if she decides she wishes to exercise. The shorts and brassiere are not what she's used to, but the concept is quite practical. It's when she goes further to the next layer that has her eyes wide and a look of shock on her face.

"Good God!" she reacts, slamming the box shut instantly. Opening it a moment later, the set is still there, as lurid and red and lacy as before. Fishing the top out, Peggy dangles the strap of an indecent set of bra and panties from her fingertips, which wouldn't cover much on any woman, let alone her. Turning skywards, she regards her strange benefactors with a disbelieving look, as if this is suddenly some awful movie production Howard is manning and he expects her to put on a show.

"If you think I'm putting these on where anyone can see, you've another thing coming," she warns the strange gods above, staring through the holes of the panties and going approximately the same colour red when she sees someone else through them. "Well," she says, as calmly as she can muster, "this is embarrassing."

One Hundred and One...

When Kate and Margaery are found and brought back to safety (albeit somewhat scraped), Peggy finds herself quick to frustration and hating her ineptitude in helping to find them. That, combined with how easily her body slides to weariness is a reminder that she needs to keep up with a much more regimented training plan. While she dislikes running for the sake of exercise, she clads herself in her brand new sports brassiere, the tank top, and scrubs trousers before going for a run.

What she would like most of all is something to take out her aggression on. There had been nothing better than the punching bag at Howard's mansion to finish a day with, allowing her fists to take out all the fury she can manage. The best she can do here is a pillow she's absconded with, but the punches feel light and she gives up someway through when it's nowhere near the sort of satisfying she's aiming for.

In her mind, she can hear Howard's voice (a ghost of itself) as it asks Peggy, does Jarvis know that you can do 107 one armed pushups? and it makes her absurdly homesick for a set of people, but also gives her a determined goal to try and best.

It's been some time since she set that record for herself, but there's no time like the present to try and beat it, especially since sparring seems out of the question when the pillow is hardly fighting back. Pinning her hair back to keep it from her face, Peggy settles herself on the ground in order to begin, winding her way through the first four sets of ten with ease, but as she begins to hit seventy, then eighty, she finds herself flagging.

"Bloody Nora, they weren't always this hard," she mutters under her breath, arm trembling as she refuses to give up just yet. This is what she gets for ignoring her regiment as long as she has, and with a loud cry of frustration, her arm gives out and she goes to her stomach on the barely-dried ground, accepting that she'll be doing quite a bit of laundry after this. Staring up, she lets out a long sigh and wishes for Howard's gym facilities, not for the first time.

rangerbecket

WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: The Corydon #36, The Inn
WHEN: 7 September
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open

Raleigh had actually gotten the cat a week or so earlier but it had taken him a little while to settle on the name if only because the torrents of rain had distracted him from such trivial things as cat naming and driven him to spend most of his time catching rainwater and trying to keep from drowning. Once it had lightened up, though, he'd been able to do a little more venturing out and the snow-white cat had been called Yuki on more than one occasion and it'd just stuck.

Yuki, luckily, fends for herself. She comes back filthy at the end of the day and she usually brings him presents he doesn't want but she damn sure earns her keep. Right now, she's whining at him as he's making his way along the banks of the swollen river, checking his fishing lines and whining for a bit of the catch.

"You're supposed to feed yourself. Careful, you. Don't know how well you swim." He doesn't know what breed she is but Yuki seems to know what she's about because she carefully bats at the water and backs up when the current's too swift for her liking. Once he gets the fish up and out of the river, he heads up to the inn to clean it with Yuki following, ever hopeful that her master is going to give her something for her troubles.

Raleigh settles to work close to the fire, trying to dry out, and Yuki takes advantage of the warmth to clean herself and let her fur dry out. She sprawls on her back and lets out a long, anguished sigh.

"You're not getting this. You hunt for your food, you know that."

booklegging

WHO: Jess Brightwell and everyone!
WHERE: The inn.
WHEN: Sept. 28th to Oct. 11th.
OPEN TO: Everyone who lives at or would visit the inn during the non-stop rain. If you don't feel like making a log for the inn but want a place to tag around, this is the mingle post for you!
WARNINGS: Will update if necessary.
STATUS: Open. Mingle away, comrades.

There's nothing quite like the sky opening up and releasing a torrential downpour to bring people together. With water coming down in buckets and the streets turning into waterways, it would be wise to seek shelter until this lets up...

If it ever lets up.

For those needing a place to warm up, the inn has a roaring fire and hot tea waiting. Pass the time watching the rain at the window, or telling stories around the main room's fireplace, or enjoying friendly company in the pub. You're even welcome to stay the night in one of the inn's spare rooms, just don't mind the leaks. It's an old building. Luckily there are plenty of buckets to go around.

teen_angst_bullshit

WHO: Veronica Sawyer
WHERE: The spring
WHEN: BACKDATED to the night of September 19
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Naked ladies?
STATUS: Open
NOTE: Skinny-dipping party post! Threadjack away! All village ladies will have been quietly invited. Brave men are also welcome to accidentally happen upon them all or try to spy.

The sky was filled with the most perfect, big, bright, shining moon. Mark called it the harvest moon, but tonight, she's just their gracious and beautiful lady to Veronica; their luminescent co-conspirator.

The idea had come to her mostly out of desperation. Hauling water back from the spring is tedious and exhausting, and there's never enough to have a real bath -- Although the thought of spending a whole day walking her happy ass back and forth solely to indulge had occurred to her. The spring itself is clear and clean and inviting, but with people in and out of the area all day long, it's not exactly private.

So what do you do? Go at night, of course, and invite all of your friends.

"I haven't done this since summer camp in sixth grade," Veronica admits as she whips her shirt off over her head and drops it beside the shimmering pool. She wouldn't have called herself an exhibitionist by any means, but feeling as gross as she has been makes a girl not care so much about who sees her topless. And after she shimmies quickly from her pants and slips into the water, any irrational, lingering embarrassment is snuffed entirely out: It is truly and completely bliss.

notabirdcostume

WHO: Sam Wilson
WHERE: The Village and then Inn
WHEN: (backdate) September 15
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: Paranoia? IDK.
STATUS: Open and also VERY threadjack friendly. This can be as crazy as the last time they all got together to spout theories. Set up your own sub-threads for what discussions you want to happen. I figure we need a discussion about the fountain and Sam's plan to watch it, a discussion about the recently discovered spring's side effects, and possibly a talk about any new discoveries or progress that's been made since the last town meeting. Feel free to mingle and make friends.

( A. Summoning the Paranoid Woods People )

---

( B. Best Laid Plans and More Paranoid Ravings of the Village )

lastofthekellys

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 10th September and a few days after
OPEN TO: Inn Residents, whoever else might be in the building: then, everyone!
WARNINGS: TBA
STATUS: Open

Earthquake

It's 5pm, or would be, if anyone paid much attention to things like clocks here. Sunset isn't for another two and a half hours or so, and the day's been hot. Not as humid as it has been. The Inn is mostly quiet, as it's hours after the midday dinner and the only people around either live at the Inn or have reason to be there. Supper will be made soon, as it's been a good day with the food supply.

Then, a minute later, the ground starts to shake.

Repairs and Aftermath

The Inn hasn't been as badly damaged as some other buildings. Foundations are still strong, walls haven't been cracked. But it's a big building, with lots of furniture and light fixtures, and it got shaken.

Having been turned into the unofficial community centre, it'll take some work and a few days to get everything straightened up again.

There's also the little matter of the water supply...

ooc: this is a party-style post, so set up your own OTAs or tag around and have fun! Setting is both for the day of the quake and a few days after to try and fix things up.

thesavior

WHO: Emma Swan and YOU
WHERE: Her House
WHEN: September 10th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open, Ongoing

Emma should really have known better. This place had taken her and everything she loved away from her. She should have fought to find out what was happening. She should have fought to find a way home. Emma, however, didn’t do any of those things. She allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security. She had somehow made her way in this place, with the help of the people around her…. Mostly Killian. She fought tooth and nail at the idea of love and relationships, but somehow Killian managed to worm his way into her life in a very integral way. There is nothing that Emma would do to change that.
She had felt the earthquakes earlier in the week and it was honestly something that she wasn’t used to but so far they had been manageable. The earthquake today, however, vaulted her forward with its sudden onset. It was not something that she was used to in the slightest. She heard a loud crack, and little bits of the ceiling started to come down, hitting her, as she crawled her way to the doorway. She thought that was something you were supposed to do right?

She couldn’t remember now. She just wanted it to stop.

[Later on]

Emma stared at her house in shock. It wasn’t that she felt that emotionally attached to the house itself, mostly of what it represented. It was the first place that was truly hers and it made her sad that it was damaged. She started to pick through the splintered wood and the broken glass thankful that no one was hurt. Now, she had to do what she did best... pick up the pieces of her life, and move forward.

thekittenqueen

WHO: Margaery Tyrell and OTA
WHERE: Bungalow #53, the Woods
WHEN: Aug 27
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open

The Woods

Wallowing in self pity was never something that Margaery did for long. After the town meeting and a full day of resting, she resumed her work and walks, contributing as best as she was able to the group as a whole. Early in the morning, as always, she ambled through the woods, pausing to gather any fruits, mushrooms or flowers that might catch her eye.

There had been a second purpose in coming to the woods, this time to find more cows, sheep, and goats, looking to breed the ones that she already had. It seemed a bit ironic, given the difficulties that she was currently having, but at least the animals found some form of contentment and companionship.

The leading them home was easier than before and once they were settled, Margaery returned to the woods, finding a bush of ground roses. The familiar smell and look reminded her of home, causing her eyes to water. Kneeling, she gathered a number of roses. If she could dry them, perhaps hang them upside down, she would have a means of helping her clothes smell fresh and clean (despite the hygiene in this world.)

Margaery's Bungalow

She had carried the roses home in her arms, managing to gather a large bundle. The seeds from the plants could be used to grow more around the bungalow. However, she would consider that once she finished the rest of her chores. She placed the flowers in a sheet, keeping them safe until she could find some twine and string.

Pulling away from her home for a moment, she returned Robb Stark's shirt, placing it on his deck, a rose tucked within to give it a perfumed scent. She left without notice, hurrying home and to her animals.

Despite her attempts to learn, she still could not figure out how to properly sheer a sheep. Each time she attempted to cut, the sheep would bleat at her in irritation, trying to pull away from her arms. "Mother give me patience," she muttered under her breath, trying to draw the poor creature back into her arms. "You want the wool removed, let me learn how."

seekingvinland

WHO: Thorfinn/Jo, then OTA.
WHERE: House 44; The Waverly.
WHEN: Predated to the 29th Storm Surge Event with Mod Permission.
OPEN TO: Jo, Kol + Threads open to those that want to help Thorfinn and Jo at their house.
WARNINGS: A lot of cursing. Will update otherwise.
STATUS: OPEN!

Days had passed since the meeting in the inn. The meeting Thorfinn stormed out of because of a headache. He had never been a social butterfly, but the language barrier was making things harder for him to want to be more social. He was both lonely and pushing the world away. The way he did in his teens to keep the horde away from him. The issue was, he was understanding a lot better than most would a man with as little known English as he had two months ago. He just had major issues with so many talking against one another so fast. It had left him annoyed and feeling isolated. Old feelings from long ago.

Since that day he had been spending most of his time in his routine. Hunt for dinner, look for herbs and collect mushrooms and timber. He keeps busy to not focus on his issues. The nightmares getting more vivid everyday. This had happened before, it was nothing new. When he started to feel the weight of life, sometimes his dead would appear in his vision in his waking hours. Reminders that he deserves whatever pain he was in. His pain would never equal to the pain he had brought upon others.

These were the thoughts littering his mind as he made his way down early afternoon. He no longer really knew how long he had been in the village. Time never really held meaning to one who didn't care about time beyond the holidays, and the approaching cold.

He made his way through the fountain park the way he usually does, cutting past the inn. A nod given to those he passed now and then. He tried to be friendly even when he didn't feel it. He had not slept well, he never sleeps well but the night before had been pretty bad. Bad enough that he felt bad for Jo having to deal with him some nights. He was tired and pondering laying down on the bench, that Jo called a couch, and trying to sleep a little even though he rarely considered sleep in the day, it was shameful to be a layabout. It was while pondering this that he started into the yard, at first not noticing a sloshing feel under his feet like it had rained. AS he neared the door only then did he notice the stream of water rolling from under the door.

"ó fjandinn!"

His eyes widened as he hurried to the door the timber abandoned to the front yard as he pushed the door open and more water rolled out soaking the boots he had on. "ríða, ríða, ríða!"

Their house, by the gods, there was water everywhere. All he could think of was how the lady next door had asked him if flooding had happened in their home. Water belongs in the river and now their home was a river.

He left the door hanging open and turned running as fast as his legs would take him, it had been a long while since he really utilized his speed. His brawl with Snake had been his last true burst of speed. Now he was running down the streets of this strange new land for the inn. Jo was usually there, if not Jo, maybe Kate would know. He came through the door fast sliding to a stop. "Jo!" he called out, the shock and concern all over his house. "House! The house is a river!" He forgot the word that their kind neighbor Peggy had used. He did not recall flood in English.

Closed to Kol
Awhile later Thorfinn was hauling things out of the saturated house. Mostly their personal effects. His carvings and soaked clothes. He was grumbling under his breath in Norse the whole while. The anger and stress showed in his shoulders and grit teeth. He wasn't even trying to hide his displeasure at the situation.

He couldn't help but think of their neighbor and her wet rugs. That would have been much better than their home turning into a river while they were both out to stop it from happening. Not that he understood it much anyway. Still every now and then he would stop and look at Jo. Jo understood more of what this meant than he did. Just was the one who kept him from slipping over to the darker side that hide in the shadows. A side of himself he though was buried, but clearly wasn't. Standing in the middle of their soaked yard he shook his head after a second.

"We will be good." He muttered walking past her to go back inside to gather more things to bring out to the streets. He didn't know what the plan was after that.

thenewways

WHO: Kira Nerys
WHERE: the Inn
WHEN: Saturday,
OPEN TO: All (August Plot, part 2)
WARNINGS: none at present
STATUS: Open

When Nerys heard about the boxes that Jo and Killian Jones had found, she was surprised. When she heard what was in them, that they were all marked with intent, the surprise lessened, and now was turning into sinking overwhelming tunnel vision in her head, her gut. The physical sensation of knowing, knowing that someone had plans for you, and those plans were likely ugly--oh yes, she knows it. Just because it's familiar, though, doesn't make it something she enjoys by any stretch of the imagination.

No, it's the kind of feeling that Nerys had learned at a very young age to transmute into anger. The kind of anger that fed her family, then the kind of anger that blew up Cardassian weapons depots, then the kind of anger that kept her focused on her job and kept her people safe.

She knows that if she's feeling this way, things are just as bad or worse for others. While she hasn't been entirely candid with everyone about her past, though she certainly hasn't lied, she's pretty sure she's seen complexity (let's be frank, darkness) in some of the people she's met, and like fuck did they need a full-scale civil war on their hands here.

It's a good way for them all, in the not-so-long run, to die.

Clearly, they all needed to have a gods damned talk before this boiled over, and as Nerys sees no one else volunteering, she steps up, roaming through the village like an old-fashioned crier. "Hey," she shouts at the people in the field, around the town, using the rather powerful pipes the Prophets had seen fit to give her. "Hey. Meeting at the Inn, fifteen minutes. We need to talk."

She gets to the inn in a few minutes' time, then clambers up onto one of the tables in front of Jo's lists, and sits, cross-legged, to wait. Folks filter in, a few at a time, and Nerys taps her jaw with her fingertips, counting out the seconds (she'd like a chronometer, but that'd be like asking for latinum dust). Once enough time's passed, she clears her throat. It doesn't really do much, so she rolls her eyes, then turns up the volume a little--not aggressive, but enough to catch people's attention. She's accustomed to walking the fine line between too much and too little leadership, because unlike her Starfleet colleagues, she doesn't expect the hierarchy of rank and linked formality of sometimes-grudging respect. Makes it easier to actually talk to people.

"Hey. My name's Nerys, for those of you who I haven't met properly yet. You've probably heard what was found out in the forest," she starts. "I figure we should all sit down and discuss it, because the last thing that's going to be any good for anyone is us starting to distrust each other and get into fights. So...let's hash it out, right?"

If she has to scream the 'this is what they fucking want, they want us to hurt each other, fuck them' message into people's heads, she's willing to do that. Eventually. Hopefully someone else will agree.

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with star trek: kira nerys

Credits & Style Info

here moosey moosey moosey

ψ they are the hunters, we are the foxes | OTA MEETING

the first face this face ever met (in a village)

AND THE STORY IT TOLD OF A RIVER THAT FLOWED MADE ME SAD TO THINK IT WAS DEAD

Tis the season...for a lot of boxes? [Presents!]

Meeting - How To Deal With Winter Without Blaming The Starks

Let us eat quickly-- let us fill ourselves up. {Harvest Feast}

of vension and root pottage and fritters

Theres magic everywhere

in from the rain

(no subject)

the fog comes on little cat feet

mingle post | open

Skinny-dipping [OTA]

Another Town Meeting -- In Regards to Water Supply and Fountain Issues

of earthquakes and aftershocks

I feel the earth move

"Sometimes the true path is hard to find"

The Destruction of Bungalow #44.

keep that fury deep inside you: primitive weapons plot