Credits & Style Info

sixthiteration: (Default)
[personal profile] sixthiteration
WHERE: 6I Fountain Park & Elsewhere
WHEN: April 1
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
WARNINGS: N/A

In the snug circle of an old park, a fountain sits burbling beneath a broad, midday sky.

Once-neat paving stones have buckled and cracked from the slow nudge of wayward roots. Benches stand covered in lichen and rust. Three paths push into the underbrush like the spokes on a wheel, the encroaching forest creating lush tunnels through the dark.

But the fountain stands singular and pristine, brightly splashing in open rebellion of the deep, muffled sounds of a place long ago gone to seed. A vibration hums through the ground, there and quickly gone, and the water in the fountain trembles, lapping against the high walls of its cool, pale reservoir.

Far, far away, in a place that isn't really there, people begin to blink out of existance.

It is the first of April.

It is precisely ten o'clock in the morning.



[Please see event details and guidelines here.]
rangerbecket: (Default)
[personal profile] rangerbecket
WHO: Raleigh Becket

WHERE: Inn, Peach Tree, 7I village

WHEN: 21 March

OPEN TO: all

WARNINGS: TBD




Raleigh keeps a regular schedule, more or less. Every morning he gets up early and drops a kiss or two on Sansa (who's usually still in bed) before going and checking his lines and getting some fishing done. By the time he's brought in the morning catch, Sansa's usually awake and they can go to the Inn for breakfast and to catch up with friends and family.

If he'd been told two years ago that this kind of mundane, day-to-day existence would become his life, Raleigh would have laughed in all their faces. His life had always erred on the side of too exciting and Rangers don't really get a chance to relax for the most part. Kaiju come quicker and quicker and Jaegers have to be piloted. That's life and they're the only thing that stand between the end of the world and life as we know it. It's nice to have that burden removed, even if for a little while.

Today, Raleigh's done checking lines and making the long walk back from the house he shares with Sansa over on the other side of the settlement back over to the Inn to see about getting something that passes for brunch. He's out of the village on this side and to the peach tree when the first flash starts.

"Mako, it's just a memory. Don't go chasing the rabbit!" There's a tiny Japanese girl paralyzed with fear as a kaiju roars down the streets of a city Raleigh doesn't know. The girl cries and tries to run, gets cut off by the monster at every turn. When it looks like she's not going to escape, a Jaeger shows up and starts fighting the kaiju, taking it out, and the pilot emerges. Before Raleigh can see his face, he jerks out of the memory.


Raleigh has no idea what that's about. It's never happened before, honestly, and he walks around the peach tree a few times to try and trigger the memory again before giving up. It'd felt so tangible and real, just like the time he'd drifted with Mako and experienced that memory through her eyes, and he has no idea what could cause that kind of hallucination.

Raleigh decides to head to the Inn even faster now, wanting to compare this experience with others. He isn't quite there before he gets another memory, one of he and Yancy fighting Knifehead back in Anchorage when Yancy had died. It's a painful memory and one Raleigh really could have done without reliving. When he pulls open the door to the Inn, he immediately sees about getting a cup of tea. He could have done with something alcoholic but, unfortunately, that's not on the menu.

While he's bustling around the kitchen, he calls out to the other people around. "Anything I can get for you? Village is being weird today so I figured I would stay inside."
minus1twin: (Default)
[personal profile] minus1twin
WHO: Wanda Maximoff
WHERE: All over the Village
WHEN: January 15th (After the snow storm)
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: N/A (please label any warnings in headers when they come up if they do.)


Wanda was happy to see the last bit of snow fall from the sky. She had nothing against the snow or the cold but she could only spend so long cooped up inside. There was work that had to be done now that the blizzard was at it's end, however, work wasn't the first thing on Wanda's mind as she stepped out into a world of perfect white.

She recalled what Raleigh had said. At the time, her memory had been lost but she remembered now, like he was standing next to her speaking into her ear. 'Even as an adult stationed up in Anchorage, we'd blow off steam having snowball fights. You ever do that? Duck and cover, try to see if you could get someone more than they got you?'

Wanda looked down at the snow and smiled. They all needed to blow off a little bit of steam. She gathered the snow in her palms as she made her way towards the inn, looking for unsuspecting victims to pull into her game. She waned everyone to play. They all needed a little bit of fun.

[ooc note: this is an open log for a large village snowball fight that Wanda is going to start. I'll be tagging everyone with her but feel free to post a header and say that Wanda dragged your character into the game. I'm good with assuming anything so that everyone can get involved! There might also be a puppy following Wanda, giving away her position if you want to nail her with a snowball :D]
rangerbecket: (Default)
[personal profile] rangerbecket
WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: Before the Weirwood tree, then in the Inn
WHEN: 14 December
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: TBD




The Wedding



Raleigh has been wanting to marry Sansa for a while but doing it right means waiting for certain things to fall into place. Today, though, there's a light snow falling and the weirwood sapling is there and still has leaves on it (he guesses it's hardy enough to last through an ice storm and the snow they've already gotten since it's a northern tree) and while it isn't going to be perfect the way it would be back in Westeros, it's good enough.

He decides, in the end, to just exchange vows the way they do in the North. It's easier that way and with witnesses, that makes him good as married as he'd be with a priest back in his world. Once the words are exchanged, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Sansa's lips and that's it, they're married. Brief, sure, but no less meaningful.

He twirls her around in the falling snow for what passes as a first dance and then they all head to the Inn.

The Inn


The food at the Inn is no more fancy than it'd normally be but Raleigh tries to pretend that venison and fresh-caught fish are exactly what he wanted for his wedding day. There's no cake, really, because that's not the kind of thing they can get easily but there's plenty of herbal tea and someone rustled up a bottle of whiskey from the last party they'd had. It's good enough. The important thing is that everyone is animated and happy and he's the happiest among them all, laughing and smiling and sharing looks with Sansa that are the most ecstatic he's ever looked in his life.

He swings her around in the Inn a few times to dance even though there's no music and it's silly but it's fun too and he doesn't let loose and have fun very often. It's a nice change.
rangerbecket: (Default)
[personal profile] rangerbecket
WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: 6I, 7I
WHEN: 19 October
OPEN TO: Sansa Stark
WARNINGS: sap



*** )
rangerbecket: (097)
[personal profile] rangerbecket
WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: 6I village, Inn
WHEN: 21 August - mid morning
OPEN TO: All + Mingle
WARNINGS: Put on your Eclipse Glasses TBD



Raleigh had been on his way back from his normal morning routine of checking his traps and fishing for a while when he noticed the sun wasn't quite the way it normally looked - he'd caught a glance at the reflection and saw that the sun, normally perfectly round, was looking a little like a lemon that had gotten beaten up at the grocery store. Huh. An eclipse. He hasn't seen one since he was in Ranger training and he hadn't gotten a good look at that one because he hadn't been directly in the path of it (and, obviously, he'd been preoccupied).

This one, though, looks like it's just starting so Raleigh has time to go to the Inn and tell the people there that there's an eclipse starting and they should get something to try and look at it. He's not exactly sure of the science behind it but he remembers being a kid and making something with a box and earlier he'd done pretty well with the water. Maybe they can take pots outside with water and just look at the reflections? Might work. Maybe, too, one of the scientists has a better idea of how to get a look at the thing.

For his part, it's just something that's different from the norm. Raleigh hopes it's not a sign that the sun's going to start moving backward or staying up all month like it had a few months back and that it's just a perfectly normal, natural event. After earthquakes and people getting sick with some kind of crazy illness, it was good to just have something...mundane to focus on.
zomboligist: (like please bitch)
[personal profile] zomboligist
WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Hospital
WHEN: July 22
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: n/a


In the rush of discovering a whole other land, Ravi's excitement may have gotten the better of him. He'd taken all of his scientific equipment and hiked his way over, going as far as the water's edge before he started to take as many samples as he could, still focusing on the water (mainly because he's curious if this water, ocean or cove or bay, has the same healing properties as the fountain or the spring). What he doesn't take into account is how far it is to get all the way out there.

By the time he gets back, the sun is starting to set, but he's sweating and he's fairly sure that he's managed to give himself an impressive neck burn from the way that the sun is reflecting off of his skin all day. Huffing and puffing, he thinks that someone should have put up signs along the way to warn him just how far that trek is.

Collapsing inside the hospital, he slams his kit on the table and collapses in a slump in front of it, groaning for water like he's a zombie. No, bad thought, that's not what he needs to think about, it just makes him miss Liv and home. He drags one of the chairs over so that he can sink into it, stripping off his scrubs shirt until he's just in a sweaty t-shirt (not hot enough that he dares go shirtless, he's not an animal).

Staring at the vials of water, he knows that he should start running tests before time or strange village magic can change anything, but he's just so tired and hot. "I hate walking," he complains aloud, already knowing that his calves are going to ache like mad tomorrow. "This science had better give me something," he continues to gripe as he forces himself to get up and start fetching the rats for their daily bout of tests.
the_scandal_of_italy: ([Lucrezia] Looks Back (Longing))
[personal profile] the_scandal_of_italy
WHO: Lucrezia
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 7/15
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None



Despite her misgivings, she had ventured into the woods, keeping close to the path. There were a number of plants she recognized, many that knew there were uses for but couldn't quite remember. There had been a book in the Vatican that mentioned herbs and plants, as well as their medicinal uses, but she hadn't had the chance to study it or begin her own experiments, as she wished. But now...now there was time, even without the book.

Spreading out the leaves, roots and berries over one of the tables, she sniffed and inspected the plants studiously. There had been a few pieces of paper in the schoolhouse. Using a bit of charred wood, she sketched the plants to the best of her abilities. It was messy work, but she would at least have a record of what she collected.

A few were easy to guess, aloe, lavender, rosemary, but so many others were a mystery to her. But they were beautiful and delicate, entrancing her in her work. Someone took the seat across from her, stirring her from her thoughts as her blue eyes shot up in surprise. "Oh! Forgive me, I didn't see you."
iron_beneath_beauty: ([Lyanna] Horror)
[personal profile] iron_beneath_beauty
WHO: Lyanna and Sansa
WHERE: The Woods
WHEN: July 1
OPEN TO: Sansa Stark
WARNINGS: Talk of destruction, earthquakes and injury



It was becoming a daily ritual for Lyanna to sneak off into the woods during the early morning. After claiming a bow and a quiver full of arrows, she would find her favorite tree and climb high into its branches, waiting for rabbits to cross her path. By noon, she would have a fair collection, enough to trade or enjoy for herself later. Between her and Jon, they weren't about to starve.

With the sun heavy overhead, sometimes the heat would effect her enough that she would doze in the tree, leaning against it as she slept. It would only be when someone else came trampling through the woods that she would wake and return home with her trophies. It might be a monotonous existence, but it was better than the simple waiting she had done in the Tower of Joy. She could at least enjoy the woods and trees as she had when she was in the North.

It was this thought that was dancing about her head as she napped in the tree, listening to the leaves rustle softly from the wind. There was a soft rumble in the ground, a short warning before the world seemed to turn upside down. There was a loud CRACK as several roots and trees broke, the sky vibrating violently before Lyanna's eyes. One moment she was holding onto the tree before she was toppling towards the ground, the branch falling from under her.

A bed of moss softened her fall, the large branch falling short of her legs. She braced herself, covering her head as she waited for the shaking to stop. It lasted for what seemed like hours before everything stilled. The sounds of the forest still, even the animals frightened away.

Lyanna was getting to her feet when she spied a flash of red caught in the sunlight. Her heart stopped in her chest. "Sansa?" Was she out here during the quake? Gods, but was she safe?
pretendtoneedme: (crossing the fields)
[personal profile] pretendtoneedme
WHO: Everyone! It's a mingle!
WHERE: The mill, and the river next to the mill
WHEN: June 13-14
OPEN TO: Anyone! Tag around, tag in, tag things!
WARNINGS: Nothing for now, please warn for content in comment titles
STATUS: All of the Opens



Word had spread in the usual way, one person mentioned it to another, that person mentioned it to a third, and fourth, and so forth and so on. The mill's almost repaired - or, more specifically, it's reached the point where it needs more than one person working on it in order to get it done. Clint wasn't too proud to say this job was above one person's skills, and so he'd designated two days as "group work" days to finish everything that still had to be done beyond some superficial things. As weird as it was to think about, the river going down actually helped with this, since it exposed some outdoor components that needed maintenance and allowed people to work on them without drowning themselves.

The wheel itself needed some repairs, mainly in some of the blades that had rotted after sitting in the water for so long, as well as getting as much algae scraped off the wood as possible. The frame of the gate that isolated the wheel from the flow of the river had been well-built of the same stone as the mill itself and was sturdy, but the rope of the gate itself had broken at some point and the gate had fallen into the river, so it needed replacing. Inside the mill, the grindstones had come out of alignment and the upper one needed to be reseated; the hopper and feeding chute for the grain had been smashed when the demon hail had punched through the roof, and new ones needed to be hoisted up and secured in place. Salvaged scraps from the destroyed houses would do well enough for all of those and the parts had been built; now they just needed to be installed. The connecting belts between the gears had already been replaced with "new" ones made of strips of extra blankets; presumably the original leather ones had disintegrated. Every tool kit in storage at the inn and most of the scraps and salvaged nails Clint had scrounged from the destroyed houses had been hauled down to provide a supply source, along with a few of the ropes or rope-like things and a couple of the first aid kits - just in case. There were a few other issues that wouldn't interfere with the actual mill workings (a couple of hail holes in the roof and one or two other things), so they could be addressed or not as people chose.

Anyone who wanted to show up and help was welcome, as long as they knew which end of a hammer to hit things with. Water to drink wouldn't be an issue since they were right next to the river, but if anyone wanted to bring snacks or any sort of food it would be appreciated by those working. It was still pretty hot, though, so everyone needed to be on alert for people overexerting themselves and potential heatstroke. Anyone who saw someone about to faint or getting dizzy would have been told to make sure the afflicted person stopped working and sat down in the shade with a drink of water. And of course there was always the option of a nice swim as well.
fishermansweater: (Actual human dolphin)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: E V E R Y O N E
WHERE: The waterfall
WHEN: During the hot weather in late May
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: PROBABLY NAKED. cw your warnings in individual threads.
STATUS: Open. THIS IS A MINGLE, have at it, tag around, you know what to do. If you want Finnick, let me know in the comment subject!





He wouldn't actually say it was really hot yet, but it's definitely getting to the sort of temperatures that make Finnick miss swimming. There's no substitute for the sand of a beach underfoot, the reassuring roar of the surf, the taste of salt in the air, but there is at least water here, tumbling down from the waterfall and flowing through the canyon until it disappears into the rocks to the south. And he knows from constantly checking his fish traps that the water is deliciously cool.

He's tested out a few spots along the river for swimming, and it's good to be in the water again, after being kept out of it for so long by the harshness of the winter.  Not swimming doesn't feel right to him, and it never has. He's never spent this long somewhere with a winter this cold, and he can't remember ever going this long without swimming. So Finnick's been testing the water out since before it was probably what most people would consider to be warm enough to swim. It had helped that he and Annie had some gifts to hunt for in the river, but those have long been found, and now it's just for relaxation.

The calmest, most relaxing place he's found so far for swimming in the river is the pool at the foot of the waterfall, where the water plunges into the canyon crisp and cool from the heights of the cliffs. It's deep around the falls, and it's big enough to swim, and Finnick spends most of the hottest parts of the day there.

So whenever he hears someone talking about the heat while he's dropping food off in the village, he suggests they try the waterfall pool. Word's likely to get around, so he won't be entirely surprised to find other people stopping by the falls.

When they do, they're likely to find him swimming around the deep part near the falls, stripped down to his underwear and, from the grin on his face, having the time of his life. It's clear just from looking at him that he's good at this, moving through the water with a confidence and grace more like to a sea-creature than a man. He's in such a good mood that he even calls out to greet many of the people who approach.

Of course, he's not the guardian of the waterfall: everyone's welcome to stop by whether he's there or not. Once or twice, there's even a moose to be seen standing at the edge of the pool taking a long, relaxing drink.
sixthiteration: (Default)
[personal profile] sixthiteration
Hail had been falling for two days now, peppering the ground and shredding the grass but rather than melt away like a late spring storm it had only intensified, growing in diameter and moving from a mild annoyance to damned near deadly. As the storm raged, ice flew up through updrafts and was forced back to earth in the downdraft, accumulating layer after layer of murky debris until it went hurtling toward the earth with wicked accuracy.

Shingles were ripped from roofs, the wind howled and lightning cracked. The hail had driven both humans and animals into the safety of the indoors, to the dark corners of buildings that might withstand the assault. With only candlelight and the hushed voices of villagers to stave off fear and boredom, the storm raged like a sentient being heedless of those who might be caught in the path.

After the storm, a calm came over the land and weak sunlight glinted off smoke-tinged ice. Steam rose from the melt and humidity was thick in the air; petrichor hung heavy, a soothing scent after a savage display of natural fury.

[OOC: Your hail mingle post. Feel free to have characters on the run, gathering animals or inside the Town Hall waiting out the storm.]
3ofswords: (yellow/drink)
[personal profile] 3ofswords
WHO: Kira
WHERE: Behind the Inn
WHEN: April 21st
OPEN TO: All, Spring Feast mingle post
WARNINGS: Please warn for content in comment headers for individual OTAs
STATUS: Open


He's hardly the first to arrive for a shift in the kitchens, but those ahead of him have sunk into the the search for the building's chairs and tables--the kitchen is open and empty, the tavern devoid even of stools.  It's another wrench in the works, one of the smaller reasons for routine to fall apart to reactions, and Kira thinks they'll have a better time of solving it if someone gets the fire up in the stove and everyone eats first.
 
The damage assessment has people upstairs, people on the path wandered out of their homes.  Kira hadn't come through his own dining room on the way out, so he can't say if he's missing furniture or not, and his growling stomach doesn't much care.
 
It's when he slips out the side door of the kitchen in search of fresh kindling that he finds it.  Every missing table and chair standing in the grass, laden with platters of food, buckets of bottled drinks, carafes of what he finds to be coffee sending steam from their lids.  There are pastries with the coffee, roasted fowl gleaming golden on the next table, between ham hocks shining with honeyed glaze, large fruits piled among wreaths of fresh flowers.
 
Dotting the tables are jars, more jars than they've had since he arrived, flickering with short candles.  Garlands accent the tables, carry from them into the trees, a web of spring decoration with a feast at its center.  Between the platters are smaller plates, small chocolates laid out under decorative drizzle.  
 
"Hey!" he calls back through the door, blinking several times to make sure the sight doesn't shimmer away into the air.  "I found the furniture, and I don't think we'll need to cook anything today."

rangerbecket: (004)
[personal profile] rangerbecket
WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: village road; river
WHEN: 17 March
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: Still open. Feel free to catch him before the fireflies sting him or afterward.



The fog's really been putting a cramp on Raleigh's ability to check the lines and fish along the river and with the addition of the fireflies, he's both worried about himself and the rest of the villagers. How are they supposed to keep from getting stung when the things start swarming? He's tried to stay indoors as much as possible but that's not going to be sustainable for very long; the people in the village need to eat and he contributes to that as much by fishing as the hunters do with their bows and traps.

He's down by the river this morning. It's hard to tell if it is morning, considering he hasn't seen the sun in days and the fog hasn't lifted in what feels like weeks but it's after a long stretch of sleep so Raleigh's going to consider it morning even if it isn't. He's got a line set out to fish, lure set, and he's slowly tugging it back. It'd be easier with a proper reel but that's not something he's rigged up yet. The tackle box he'd gotten a couple months ago has gotten plenty of use, though, and he's learned how to improvise and use it along with the long, supple branches he favors for poles.

The trick with fishing poles is something that's sturdy, yeah, but has more give than break. He doesn't want it to snap with a fish on the line but he also doesn't want it to be so flimsy that it just whips back and forth. Striking that perfect balance is a pain in the ass but the other fishermen have helped him in that regard; Raleigh definitely knows when to look to his betters.

When he spots the flicker and flash of the fireflies he starts packing things up as quickly as he can to avoid getting stung but he doesn't quite manage, fireflies finding every available bit of skin. He wishes he'd worn his jeans and long-sleeved shirt instead of the scrubs he'd come in but with the weather slightly milder, he'd saved the jeans for if the cold came back.

"Shit," he mutters, stripping down and jumping in the river in a vain attempt to get the bugs off him. Maybe he's saved himself a couple stings this way. It works for bees, doesn't it? There's no reason it shouldn't work for fireflies.
learned_to_die: ([moment] the end)
[personal profile] learned_to_die
WHO: Eddard Stark
WHERE: Fountain/Around the Village
WHEN: March 10, afternoon into early evening
OPEN TO: OTA (Separate thread for Sansa (continuation from TDM))
WARNINGS: Mention of death/execution (will update as needed)
STATUS: Yes


// Arrival - The Fountain //
The last thing Ned could remember was the chilling, screaming sound of approaching death as the executioner used his own weapon against him. After that -

He'd ended up here. Clawed his way out of the fountain, felt the press of hard earth against his back as he stared at a sky bluer than any he'd seen before. He'd thought he'd died, been transported to some sort of afterlife, but it would've been too good to be true. Instead, he'd found himself in a village, of sorts. There were similarities, to his beloved home of Winterfell, but also -

Differences.

His belabored breathing is mottled with violent, hacking coughs - many of which force water up from his lungs to saturate the ground beneath him. He rolls over onto his side, presses a palm to the ground, forces himself up onto his knees. As he brings the back of his hand to his mouth, he feels the strange tug of the fabric around his body -

It isn't the leather he's used to, nor does it even vaguely resemble his usual garments - the ones he'd loved and left behind up North: the furs, the pelts, leather delicately woven and dark as the frozen earth. Even the pieces he'd had to wear in the warmer King's Landing are missing. He then feels the tightness of straps against his shoulders, realizes he's carrying a satchel of some sort on his back. He thinks to remove it, to investigate, but first, he has to figure out how to answer a very pressing question:

Where in the Old Gods' names is he?

// Later - The Village //
He's determined to explore more of the town, now that he's forced himself to scout the area, taking advantage of the cover of a number of trees to finally bend a knee, investigate the contents of the strange satchel he'd arrived with. He'd also taken the opportunity to peel away the saturated clothing for the dry set he'd found - marvelling at how much quicker it was to dress as opposed to before with layer upon layer. Perhaps there's something to the simplicity of it all.

He tries to retrace his steps back towards the fountain or what he believes to be the center of the town, pack lazily slung over one shoulder, long tendrils of hair still dripping and soaking the shoulders of his shirt.
kestreldawn: (cassian pt 5 yavin IV)
[personal profile] kestreldawn
WHO: Jyn Erso
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: February 9, early evening.
OPEN TO: Sansa, Claire
WARNINGS: None yet; will edit as needed.
STATUS: From aforementioned characters.


A routine has been slowly established: wake up at first light, comfortably and warmly nestled in Cassian's arms; begrudgingly force herself from their safety and from the bed; prepare for the day, sometimes with him if he feels like waking when she does; go to the Inn, visit Kira if he's there to check on him; if he's there, talk about their previous day, maybe have tea, maybe just sit and mope together; study the map on the wall and determine what new intel needs to be added. She hasn't yet begun to venture out to the boundaries of the town, not yet, but that day is fast approaching. It isn't that she's necessarily looking for an escape (the motivation to do so has waned she since's found Cassian, an underlying fear that if they do try to leave, they won't be able to do so together). It's more that it gives her something to do, something familiar and something like normalcy.

There's no threat of the Empire here. There's no planet killer, there's no Man in White. But she can't shake the anxiety from the back of her mind, where it's made its home. It's a constant gnawing at her gut, an ache in her side - a shroud stitched of darkness and fear and self-preservation. It makes her sometimes pull away from Cassian when he holds her, ignoring the pain, the hurt that flashes in his eyes when she does. It makes her withdraw into herself into silence, despite her tongue's protestations of wanting to move. It makes her lose herself in the crudely drawn map for hours at a time, and it's only the ache in her shoulders that reminds her it's time to go home.

For Claire
She's trying to plot the path she'll take when the expedition finally begins, but she's finding herself distracted by everything, unable to concentrate. She collapses into a nearby chair, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose to will away the pain that's beginning to split into her skull. A heavy sigh the weight of a boulder bursts from her mouth as she closes her eyes, trying to regain the focus she's lost.

For Sansa
She's lost in the imaginary expedition when she hears the distinct sound of slow, hobbling footsteps. There's a light thud as a body falls into a chair. The sounds are enough to draw Jyn's eyes away, for a moment, to see a young woman - girl? - sitting nearby, looking rather frail and possibly even injured. Jyn first notes the burning auburn cascading down her shoulders, then the pain-stricken contortion on her face. The part of her that wants to focus on the map tells her to ignore the girl, it's none of her business. The part of her that remembers the kindness Finnick and Kira showed her after her arrival makes her expression soften as she asks:

"You all right?"
turned_to_steel: (❥ injured (cut on her cheek))
[personal profile] turned_to_steel
WHO: Sansa
WHERE: Outside the Stark house, then inside
WHEN: February 8th
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: will update if needed but part of the lightning plot where Sansa gets hit
STATUS: OPEN



Read more... )
womanofvalue: (relived nightmares)
[personal profile] womanofvalue
WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Outside the fountain
WHEN: February 2nd, Evening
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Ice Powers, Grief
STATUS: Open


It's been days of searching, to the point that even for a woman of Peggy's stubbornness, there are boundaries as to how much she can take and how long she can go denying the truth. She's searched every possible crevice the village will allow her, looking for bodies alive or dead, but it's becoming painfully clear that she's not going to find her friends because they're not here any longer. She'll miss Barnes and Natasha, of course she will, but that's not what hurts so badly.

Peggy's been at the fountain, her last resort. Perhaps whatever cruel joke this is will vanish and Steve will pop up again, like he's never been gone. She'd honestly thought that something might be going right in the universe again, if only to give her back the best man she'd ever met, but that's all gone too. Inhaling sharply, Peggy can't keep back the grief any longer. Her sobs are a choked sound that she muffles with the collar of her cloak, trying to brush away her tears.

Tears, unfortunately, that are crystallizing on her cheek. Reaching up, Peggy stares in confusion and wonder as she holds an icy teardrop on her fingertip. It ought to melt away with her body heat, but a quick touch to her skin proves that she's just as cold as the weather around her, something that shouldn't be possible by any means.

Swallowing another sound in her throat, Peggy finds herself sitting heavily on the edge of the fountain, not sure she has the energy to cope with this on top of everything. She's been accused of being an icy bitch before, but she'd never thought it would end up being so literal. "You'd laugh," she says aloud, not sure which departed friend she's speaking to now, whether it's Steve or Howard or Jarvis, "it serves me right. The one moment I need affection and compassion, this place drives ice into my heart to keep people at bay." Letting her head hang forward, any tears that come turn to ice nearly immediately, dropping to the ground like a miniature weather event right in front of her, but she can't make herself move just yet.

Steve is gone. He's gone again and she's not sure how to say goodbye so quickly, this time.
andrend: (04 I hear something more)
[personal profile] andrend
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.]