Sixth Iteration Logs

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WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
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mindmeld

WHO: Spock
WHERE: Fountain, Inn, Around
WHEN: Backdated to June 7 & onward
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open

i. fountain

The water is tranquil, rippling over him in gentle eddies lull him into a sense of calm that almost takes him away from the fact that he is currently floating face down in a body of water.

Getting into the enemy ship with McCoy, prepared to crash into a planet, Spock had expected to be shaken and injured; there was always a possibility of such an occurance. He did not expect to wake in something vastly different from the ship, uninjured but decidedly odd.

It does not take long for Spock to react, despite the disorientation he feels; he swims, breaching the surface with a few powerful strokes. Swimming is not an activity which he finds beneficial, but his survival training courses had included lessons, necessary for space missions. Useful now.

What he sees when he breaks the surface is not what he expected from the planet. Between that, and the fact that his clothes are different, and he is decidedly altered from his usual appearance, Spock quickly concludes that he is not on Altamid at all.

"What is the nature of this place?"

It is the only question he asks aloud, though a dozen others run through his head. Now is not the time to speculate; there are more important matters at hand. Such as drying off.

ii. the inn

There are others in the same position as he, an entire village of them. Spock intends to find a place to stay away from the crowd, but for the first few nights, Spock stays in the inn, spending ample time in the common room. Quiet and reserved by nature, he still finds value in socialization - and in understanding where the others are from, how they came to be in this village. Better to find answers that way.

Given a chance, he will approach any individuals who appear to be somewhat idle, or even those busily engaged in a task, to ask, "What was the nature of your arrival?"

iii. the canyon walls

It is logical that the canyon has already been inspected and escape routes discovered - or, in this case, not discovered. But it is far from people and allows Spock an opportunity to assess his situation in relative privacy.

Whatever this place is, it has turned him human. He has made no mention of this to others because the lack of distinctive Vulcan features has made it easy to blend in among the other individuals in the village but it is troubling. Mental control does not come as easily; the awareness of his biology functions is limited; even his heart beats in a different spot.

It is, quite simply, disconcerting. And he wants to be back aboard the Enterprise in order to correct these complications.

The canyon also provides a distraction, as focusing on learning the lay of the land and measuring distances requires more of his attention than customary - one of the downfalls of a human body. Especially since the range never seems to compute; each time he thinks he has an answer for how long the canyon wall is, the number escapes him.

"I have walked fourmiles," he says, at one point, only to take a few more steps and announce, "Perhaps it has only been three."

iron_beneath_beauty

WHO: Lyanna Stark
WHERE: Around the village, the Woods
WHEN: Early June
OPEN TO: OTA, Jon Snow
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open

Village

After a week's recuperation, Lyanna was back on her feet, energized and ready to explore. Her arrival had been during a hail storm, forcing her inside, along with the need to recover. Now that the weather had cleared and she could stand upright again, she wanted to see everything. There were a number of buildings that had been converted for different uses, like the police station. They received a passing glance. Instead, she headed towars the destroyed bungalows

There would be a number of things to take and claim, it just meant having to find her way inside. Carefully stepping over some of the debris, she peered into the broken windows. There was someone else passing by, someone that was out enjoying the day as well.

"Has anyone tried to go into these houses before?" She looked back. "What happened to them? They look like they collapsed."

The Woods

There were at least weapons available for use, including a bow. Gathering a handful of arrows, Lyanna headed into the woods. There was apparently good game, given what Jon brought back to the bungalow every day. It wouldn't be the same without a horse and hounds, but she would make do.

There were a few climbable trees, a place where she could sit and wait for the game to come out into the open. She hoisted herself up and perched herself on a large branch. Apparently others passed by often, as she would hear the brush being disturbed. Just as she took aim, she'd have to lower her bow at the sight of another person.

"You're scaring the rabbits."

The Woods - Closed to Jon

It was a strange thing to sit on a secret of this magnitude. Ned had told her the truth about Jon when she first arrived, but health and surroundings took her attention. There was so much else to process before she digested that her newly born son had grown into a man. She had lost so much time, surrendering him into the care of the man she trusted more than anyone. It didn't change the longing she had in her heart to know him better, to talk with him and learn about the man he had become.

But how to even approach it. Each time she tried to tell him she knew, she found the words wouldn't come. So instead, she fell back and retreated from the topic. She would ask other questions, but none of what she really wanted to know.

Having enough, she followed him out to the woods, making mention before that she wanted to hunt with him. She wasn't ever good with delicacy. So instead of easing into the topic, she simply blurted out, "I know you're my son."

zomboligist

WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Inn, near the Kitchen
WHEN: June 3rd
OPEN TO: All! Mingle post!
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open

There's another one of those strange boxes sitting on the porch of their home when Ravi gets up to another scorching, awful day. He's not sure what switch they hit to get this sort of weather, but he wants them to take it back, seeing as he's been sweating so much that he has to do laundry practically every day to cope with the ridiculousness of it. He can't go shirtless because he has absolutely no will to show everyone the out of shape disappointment that it his torso.

He bends to pick up the box and bring it inside, but hisses when his fingers contact something frosty cold at the bottom of the box. Opening it in a hurry, his eyes widen and he tugs the box to his chest as best as he can, taking off in a completely ungraceful run, heading straight for the inn and shouting as he goes. "Ice cream!" he says, like the world's skeeviest ice cream truck on legs, luring children in after him. "Ice cream, there's ice cream, it's going to melt," he warns, because there are six tubs of it, but he fears that in this heat, it's not going to last very long at all. Scientifically, he knows that it's just going to be calories that generate heat, but science can go take a backseat.

He unloads the toppings and the various six flavours (ranging from vanilla to chocolate, cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, butter pecan, and even a treasured cherry garcia), the sprinkles and peanuts going with the caramel and hot fudge sauces. He could weep because there are even serving spades, bowls, and spoons. He knows he ought to be wary about food after the whole chocolate poisoning incident (if it really was the chocolate), but it's just so hot and he's just so hungry.

He'll chance it, because if he doesn't, he just gets some delicious flavoured ice cream soup soon.

fantastic_kneads

WHO: Jacob Kowalski
WHERE: The Bakery
WHEN: May 21
OPEN TO: All - 1st starter primarily for people who have talked to him before, 2nd open to all
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open

Miss Manners Says...

He's been thinking about what his Ma would've thought about this place pretty much from the second he turned up. Jacob knows that it's not like New York, not even like a street of New York, seeing as he thinks there's more people in his building than there are here, but that come with good things, too. It means people care about you, they worry, and they're real nice. Ever since he's arrived in this weird little village, Jacob's been helped out by a lot of people.

His Ma's voice in his head tells him that he should be repaying that kindness. Since he doesn't think anyone needs his brute strength for canning, he goes right to the other skill he's got. Besides, he figures that some pastries are a lot more welcome than anything else he's got to offer.

With limited supplies, it's not like he can go wild and bake up a whole showcase, but he manages to put together nice little displays, about three filled, glazed donuts, each with a different filling (cherry, lemon, and sugary sweet fluff). He hasn't got boxes, but he lines them up as best as he can to get 'em ready for delivery, heading out into the village one little package at a time to find those people who helped him out.

When he sees someone, he waves a hand to try and get their attention, balancing the little baking tray in his hands. "Hey!" he shouts. "Hey, hold up, I got something for you!"

Give Us Our Daily Bread

After that box of strange things turned up, Jacob's been trying to experiment on the daily, even if he hasn't got much in the way to record his experiments. Bread is bread and it's pretty easy, but there are poppyseeds and sesame seeds and he'd been able to coax a couple of eggs a few days in a row until he's got enough to make a few specialties. Today, it's egg bread, like the challah he used to find in the city. Lucky for him, it's not too far off the regular bread he makes.

By mid-morning, the bakery is putting off the smell of fresh bread. The egg bread is there, but he's also got a version with some poppyseeds and he's managed to get a few into bagel form. Just like the other days, he knows it's not much and he can't feed everyone in the village, not if he wants to keep making 'em regularly (and if he doesn't figure out flour soon, that's definitely going to become an issue).

Still, when that bread comes off the ovens and Jacob smells that incredible fresh smell, he figures that if he's got one purpose in this place, he's happy that it's something he loves doing. "Butter," he says, out of nowhere, searching around him. "I should've gotten some butter."

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.]

oncewasroman

WHO: Rory Williams & Percival Graves
WHERE: Rory & Amy's House
WHEN: April 24/25 -- Post Town Hall
OPEN TO: Percival Graves
WARNINGS: Injury/Blood, Stitches
STATUS: CLOSED

( I'm a doctor, not a wizard... )

bewaretheniceboy

WHO: Jax Teller, Neil Mackay, Peeta Mellark, and anyone who wants to visit them, doctor them, or look after them
WHERE: The hospital
WHEN: The days after the Obscurus rampage
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to visit the patients, anyone who's hurt, or anyone who's got any reason to be in the hospital at all. Tag each other! Mingle! Commiserate!
WARNINGS: People got hurt, so injuries and wounds, presumably blood, at least one head injury, probably nightmares, and various medical things could all crop up here
STATUS: Open (please state who the tag is for and a general idea of a timeframe in the subject line of your comment!)

The doctors in this place were as quick as they could be with limited supplies or trained personnel. Within a very short time of the smoke monster smashing through one man and slamming a few others aside, they had the injured moved into the hospital, cleaned up, and attended to as best they could. The lack of supplies and technology across the entire village was felt more in the medical field than any other, but all the members of that little group were resourceful and determined, and at least while some of the injuries had been severe no one had been on the doorstep of death. It was easier to treat a person when you were sure they would keep breathing.

Still, a lot of it had been improvised, and no one could be healed in an instant; they'd all have to do it the old-fashioned way, letting time and rest mend their wounds. Neil, Jax, and Peeta had all been placed in the same room in the hospital just to make it easier to keep tabs on them and for companionship through the night. The beds were spaced far enough apart to give some sort of privacy if the conversations were kept quiet and spare blankets had been tacked up that could be pulled back or dropped like curtains to give at least a visual barrier around the patients, but no one was far away enough from each other to not be able to talk (or listen) if they wanted to. A few chairs were available for visitors' use, though slightly rickety and not up to much punishment. All three of them would be there for a good bit, so the goal was to make their stay as comfortable as was possible.

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."

ottimismo

WHO: Sonny Carisi
WHERE: The Inn, the Hospital, the Church
WHEN: April 10th
OPEN TO: OTA, with two closed starters!
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open!

Church

This morning, like all mornings, Sonny begins his day at the church.

He needs his faith like he needs air and water and shelter. Some days, he's sure it's the only thing that keeps him going. He's stuck in an impossible situation, one that has little rhyme or reason, one that makes very little sense. Sometimes he thinks that it's possible God can't even hear him here, but that's a thought he always dispels quickly. God has to hear him. God can always hear him. So every day, often more than once a day, he prays. In his head, out loud, with his hands clenched tight in front of him. He prays likes it's the last thing he's ever going to do.

This morning, like all mornings, Sonny is praying.

He's on his knees in the home he's turned into a church. It's nothing special — just a bunch of chairs and couches pushed into the living area, lined up and facing the far wall where a crudely made cross stands. It's not much, but it serves its purpose. It brings a sense of peace as Sonny folds his hands together, bows his head, and moves his lips soundlessly in a conversation with God.

Inn

That morning, after returning to his house, he finds a cardboard box on his front step. He's gotten one before, and it wasn't filled with anything bad. Though he knows some people aren't so lucky, and have received some not-so-good things in theirs. Even so, he's excited to tear the top off of this one and see what he's gotten this time, all hopeful gaze and bated breath.

He had not asked God for breakfast foods, but he's certainly not disappointed.

Instead of working in the silence of his home, as he did the last time he got a gift like this, he decides to take it all to the Inn and work in their kitchen. He's never much liked being alone anyway, and things are far more lively here. He gets to work immediately, cheerful despite lacking the usual music he enjoys cooking to. There's a mixed fruit bowl, and he picks out the strawberries and blueberries to make two different batches of fruit pancakes. He wishes he had a few more spices at his disposal to toss in, so he could make it closer to what he does back home. But beggars can't be choosers, and he's happy to have what he does.

Once it's finished, he gathers the pancakes and syrup and the rest of the fruit bowl onto a platter that he unearths from a cabinet in the kitchen, arranging it all nice and neat before carrying it into the main room.

"Who wants pancakes?"

( i will gather myself around my faith )
( for light does the darkness most fear )

chosenbytheocean

WHO: MOANA
WHERE: INN/VILLAGE/EVERYWHERE
WHEN: APRIL 7-9th
OPEN TO: OPEN TO ALL
WARNINGS: ADORABLENESS
STATUS: CLOSED
NOTE: Moana was gone for a little over 24 Hours. Anyone at the Inn probably noticed since she lives there and is there a lot. You are welcome to run into her at any point during any post.

APRIL 7TH RETURNS TO THE VILLAGE – MID-DAY

Moana didn’t expect to be pulling herself from the fountain wearing the same navy blue scrubs that she had found herself in on day one. She pressed her palm against the fountain’s basin, making sure that her fingers didn’t slip on the wet stone that surrounded the familiar landmark. Moana pulled herself free of the waters grasps and tumbled forward until she was lying face up, her limbs sprawled at her sides. She watched the clouds roll by and while the ground beneath her was chilly, the air brushing over her damp skin felt nice.

She took a minute to lay there, her dark hair heavy with water and matted to her cheeks and neck. She hadn’t had the backpack this time. It was good in a practical sense but she hoped that her things were still in her room. Moana didn’t know how long she’d been gone. Her chest heaved with each unsteady breath and while remaining in her prone state she picked apart her memories of this strange village. It took her a moment for everything to catch up to her and in a rush she was on her feet, running through the town.

"I made it past the reef!"

Moana shouted happily at the top of her lungs. She’d run past people on the streets; pause and then backtrack; running over to them to share her excitement.

APRIL 7TH TALKING TO HERSELF – JUST AFTER HER RETURN

Moana’s excitement was fleeting. At her core, she wasn’t happy to be back in the small foreboding village, not after making it past the reef and then finding Maui. She had something to do, something that only she could do; the ocean had chosen her… … … … … … …

…

Moana stopped mid-step, her palm quickly pressing to her clavicle moving over her chest and then down her sides.

"I lost the heart." Her voice was high pitched and frantic. She turned on her heel and ran back to the fountain. Her hands continued to search her clothing but it wasn’t on her. Her abdomen crashed against the edge of the fountain as she peered over its edge, searching its depths for the small shimmering green stone.

"Give me back the heart!" She yelled at the water. Moana had spent days talking to the ocean, it was her friend, but the water didn’t respond to her now.

APRIL 8TH INN – MORNING

Moana woke with the sun and rolled out of bed. The morning air uncomfortably pricked at her skin as she moved about the small room. Her room was the place she slept, kept her things and a bunny. She didn’t spend a lot of time in her room that wasn’t dedicated to sleeping.

She tugged her fingers through her messy black hair and then headed towards her door, hoping that there might be something small she can eat in the kitchen. As Moana stepped from her room she tripped over a small box that had been perfectly placed to obstruct her path. A loud grunt echoed down the hall as Moana found herself upside down, her feet rather spectacularly positioned in the air and a box resting on her head. She heard the faint clamor of a squealing pig inside the box enticing her to move quickly and release the startled animal.

She hadn’t meant to trip over it.

As Moana opened the box she saw a small baby pig running in very small circles around a coconut. "Hey there. Calm down. It’s okay." She wasn’t going to let the pig out of the box until it was calm.

A half hour later Moana had sorted through the box. There hadn’t been a lot outside of the pig in it but she had gotten two coconuts and two sticks from a tree that she recognized. It was exciting to have coconuts again and given that there were a few people who’ve never eaten a coconut before, Moana set to cutting and cooking one to share with those in the Inn. She hoped that she could spot Credence since she’d told him specifically about coconuts a month or so before.

APRIL 8TH INN – EVENING

With the appearance of the box, Moana had a new project. She sat in the inn’s common room, positioned close to the fire, her feet were bare and her hair was tied in a not on the top of her head. She had the two sticks from a mulberry tree in front of her, both were a little under a foot in length, and a baby pig asleep next to her thigh. The fire had clearly been too much for it.

As carefully as she could, Moana cut a thin line down the sticks, splitting the bark. It was layered inside and with this opening she was able to pull the curled long strip of plant matter from its center. She was very careful while doing this, knowing that she wouldn’t get a second chance if she mess up.

Her dark eyes occasionally flicked to the young pork bun at her side making sure that she didn’t wake him from his sleep. It had been a tiring day for them both.

tsingtauense

WHO: Lily Evans Potter
WHERE: The Fountain + The Inn
WHEN: March 7th + 8th
OPEN TO: EVERYONE [Multithreads 4ever]
WARNINGS: she's ruffled
STATUS: UPDATE: added second prompt! So gonna close new tags for her immediate arrival [Fountain] (leaving that mental space a bit) and OPEN new tags for the next morning [Inn]!

( rolled a lucky pair of dice / ended up in paradise / landed on a snake's eyes, took a bite and ended up bleeding [FOUNTAIN] )

( the truth is, all those angels started acting the same [INN] )

bit_fairytale

WHO: Amy Pond
WHERE: Outside the Mill
WHEN: February 13th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Temporary confusion due to lightning & unconsciousness
STATUS: Open

"Doctor?"

Something's happened to her, something that hurts and is making everything fuzzy. Amy stares up at the sky from where she's lying on the ground, not sure why it feels like she's coming around from a nap, her body covered in dirt except for her right arm, which has a strange pattern by the shoulder, like little tree limbs stretching out from her neck down her arm. It hurts to move, but the worst is that everything is fuzzy.

"Rory?" she ekes out, trying to sit up as she stares around her, panic beginning to well. She's not entirely sure what's going on, but she's not in her clothes, her ring is missing, and she's not sure how she got these marks on her arms. For a brief moment of panic, Amy's hands fly down to her midsection and she wonders if they've got her at Demon's Run, still, if all that time in between was just some sort of dream...

"Rory!" she shouts, a little louder, more panicked. "Doctor, where are you?" Her head is splitting and she's covered in dirt on the ground in what looks like an old little village? She knows it, though, why does she know it? Rubbing a hand to the side of her head, Amy tries to sit up, but she keeps her eyes closed because everything aches so badly.

Did she get knocked out? Why does she remember a bright flash and then nothing?

Wait. Did she get struck by lightning? Does that actually happen to people? Amy manages to get to her feet, stubbornly trying to keep her balance, but she's still a bit dizzy and ends up stumbling towards the nearest building, pressing a hand to it and rubbing at the mark on her neck, grimacing at how bad it looks as she wonders if this'll be permanent. Right, she decides, she's clearly got something wrong with her, which means she needs some medical help and maybe something strong to drink.

notsocommon

WHO: Helen Magnus
WHERE: hospital, schoolhouse, outside the butchers, Inn
WHEN: 7 February - 14 February
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: Open

i. fixed law of gravity

Thanks to the work done by Rory, the hospital was something approaching hospitable. There were beds inside it, yes, but Helen wasn't certain that the narrow sickbays could really be considered proper beds or not. It was more of a triage station, really, or a field hospital to her modern standards and she was reminded yet again of all the medicine she'd practiced during the two great wars; there was little that rattled the nerves quite as much as hearing and feeling the vibrations of shells and mortar just outside one's door while trying to heal the sick and make them comfortable.

Helen could do without ever seeing another war.

Still, it was the nature of human beings to fight and while there hadn't been many quarrels here in this place, Helen wasn't naive enough to believe that it would always be so calm or that their threats would always come in easy to handle packages. The injuries this month were proof enough of that. No one had been hurt terribly as of yet but she was certain it was not far off, considering the lightning only increased in frequency as days passed.

Currently, she was in the midst of cataloging her meager supplies with which to treat burns. There were bandages, there were poultices and her very precious store of penicillin. She had five syringes, prepared if she should have to use them, and there was no reason to believe she'd ever get more. Their captors had been gracious enough to give her the medicine once. She wouldn't be the one to waste it.

She was ripping linens at the moment in order to make more bandages and hoped that she'd never have occasion to use quite as many as she'd made.

ii. so simple a beginning

After putting in a long day of scouring the woods for more herbs and dodging lightning where she could, Helen found herself in the Inn for a cup of her preciously-hoarded coffee and a bite to eat. She'd been grateful that there was food already cooked when she'd arrived at the kitchens and made a note to bring more berries and herbs to replenish Kate's stores from time to time. It was what she could do to help, after all, and while she could cook she was also content to eat the cooking of others.

She had a bowl of stew balanced on one knee and a mug of coffee in the other as she sat by the fire, lost in reflection and memory. There had been disappearances of late, a rash of them, and she wondered what that meant. Their captors never seemed to announce why they did things and she supposed it was futile to assume they'd start doing it now. Once she'd finished eating, she pulled out her notes from Annie and Finnick's findings, trying to make sense of the new information they'd discovered.

She wound up moving from the chair to the floor and when that didn't give her enough room, she decided to take the lot of her work over to the schoolhouse in order to avail herself of the slates inside there. She took care not to erase anything already on the chalkboards, not wanting to ruin someone else's work, but took up a piece of it herself and started trying to make sense of the muddled equations and endless lines of text.

"It doesn't bloody make sense she exclaimed in frustration, banging a closed fist in an uncharacteristic fit of pique. Even her own mind had been tested by this and if she couldn't figure it out, what hope did she have of ever finding a way back home? How could she provide insight and understanding to the people here if she couldn't make heads of tails with what she'd been presented? She sank down at one of the desks, sitting hard enough to send it flying a few inches.

"Damn."

iii. endless forms most beautiful

Having given up on the mystery of the pods for the time being, Helen decided to make herself useful and was tending a hot fire and a veritable cauldron of soap. The butcher's was the only place where she had the equipment to render fat properly and while it was smelly, disgusting work, the end result was quite nice. It reminded her of being a girl, making soaps and things by hand and once she had the soda ash added to the fat, she could start the process of turning the lot of it into soap.

This batch was going to be scented with lemon, one of the precious essential oils she'd been gifted, and it lent the air a fresh, clean scent. It was something neutral, something that simply smelled of clean and she hoped that the others in the village would agree with that assessment. If not, they were free to make their own soap, she supposed, though she was the only one who seemed to make any in any real quantity.

The next batch was blood orange and the final, at the end of the day, ended up scented with lavender. Once she'd poured it into the crude molds she'd crafted of wood she covered it with towels to let it cure. Later, after it'd set up, she'd slice it into thick bars but for now it would simply have to set. There were more than a few lye burns on her hands once she'd finished for the evening and she wondered if the powers that be would gift her a set of proper gloves. They would have more than one use. Of that, she was absolutely certain.

candor1

WHO: Erik Lensherr, Percival Graves, Cassian Andor, and YOU NICE PEOPLE
WHERE: (i) The Greek ruins with Erik / TBD with Graves. (ii) The waterfall. (iii) The hospital.
WHEN: After Fin/Annie's Town Meeting through Now
OPEN TO: (i) is closed; (ii) and (iii) are OTA
WARNINGS: vet struggles, speculative projection of ECT +/ EMDR, reproductive choices, murder, self-endangerment, physical injury, and "too much exposition"^[Urinetown].
STATUS: Closed

( Show me the secret pages of the Book of Stars. [Closed] (attn. Lensherr, Graves) )

( What power enables prophecy and sorcery in a world controlled by logic and law [OTA] (attn. anyone) )

( I ask you to believe this not because it is true, but because it is a beginning [OTA] (attn. medical professionals [Claire, Ravi, Rory?], anyone) )

oncewasroman

WHO: Rory Williams
WHERE: Hospital
WHEN: January 27-January 31
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: Nothing too bad...
STATUS: Open

While Rory was glad to be reunited with his wife and confident that he could offer his nursing skills as needed, there was one thing still bothering him about his circumstances. While he had not heard of any serious injuries or sicknesses taking the Inn yet, he felt it a little on the "unprepared" side of things that the building that was clearly a hospital had seen such little attention. Sure, the village wasn't big now and probably any minor injuries had been treated on the spot or in people's homes, but what happened when a massive outbreak occurred and they needed a quarantine? Or what if there were massive injuries that made home visits illogical? The snow certainly wasn't going to help those matters at the moment.

So, with little better to do, Rory decided on a job he would assign himself and get to work on immediately: cleaning out and getting the hospital back in working order.

Step 1. Would be to "tour" the facility and see what was left of the place. How many rooms? How many beds? Where were the different stations. It was one of the bigger buildings so that could be a task that took several hours on its own. Unless someone joined to help of course.

Step 2. Would be to start repairing and clearing out any animals that might have taken up residence. There was no way he was going to get all of that done in one day, but people would probably take notice of a skinny Brit lugging broken pieces of furniture out of the building or yelling at rats to "shoo" and chasing them out with a makeshift broom.

Step 3. And once most of the major clearing was done there was, of course, the problem of actually cleaning the place. If the hospital was dirty there was going to be no point in using it. He knew they were lacking in disinfectants and any real cleaning supplies -- but honestly just getting out all of the cobwebs and dust would be a major step in the right direction.

Of course, for one man this would probably be too much. if he's by himself it's likely he won't even get a hallway done, let alone a whole wing or floor of this place. Still, all the more reason to start now and hopefully someone will happen along to help.

(ooc: Feel free to indicate what "step" you want to be helping with. Be prepared for random animal encounters too)

guessihavelostcount

WHO: Claire Bennet
WHERE: Around the inn
WHEN: January 22nd
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: none at the moment
STATUS: Open

( Read more... )

[Feel free to catch Claire in the Inn staring at you or catch her outside after having fallen on ice.]

bit_fairytale

WHO: Amy Pond
WHERE: Outside the Williams Estate
WHEN: Late day January 4th
OPEN TO: Rory Williams
WARNINGS: Potential adult content
STATUS: Open

It's the blue of the house that gets Amy's attention. Brand new, ancient, borrowed, so beautifully blue and for the briefest of moments when she'd caught the glimpse, she'd thought that just maybe, maybe, it was the TARDIS and the Doctor just got the chameleon circuit working again was all. Trust him to take more than a decade to fix something that River could've worked out in a week. When she gets close enough, she can see that it's just a house with a very familiar shade of paint. Still, if there's going to be a house here, any house, with Rory in it, then it's going to be this one. She knows it down in her gut, can feel it with every beat of her heart. Still, there's way too many ways for this to go wrong, which is roughly the time that Amy shuts her brain off so that she's working on pure fumes and stubborn willpower to charge forward, standing at the door before pounding on it with no gentle lightness at all. This is important, whoever's in this house is going to hear her, so help her God.

"Rory Williams!" she shouts, stepping back to boom at the windows. "I know you're here, they told me that you were here. How could anyone miss a stringbean with that nose!" she keeps going, as maniacally determined as ever, using it to mask the worry that she's been lied to and Rory isn't actually there. Please be here, Rory, please, please be here, Amy mentally chants to herself again and again.

It's supposed to be together or not at all. She just never counted on the latter being any kind of real possibility.

chosenbytheocean

WHO: Moana
WHERE: Fountain/Docks/Around
WHEN: December 27th
OPEN TO: ALL ARE WELCOME!
WARNINGS: Mentions of almost drowning…
STATUS: Closed

( Prompt i - Waking )

( Prompt ii - Wandering )

( Prompt iii - Water! )

oncewasroman

WHO: Rory Williams
WHERE: Fountain
WHEN: Dec 22 -- Various Times
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: CLOSED

( How many times...I've lost count. )

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with doctor who: rory williams

Credits & Style Info

001. and thus begins a journey

"Under the Dappled Sunlight"

we all scream (but this time, for ice cream)

(no subject)

if the sky can crack [OTA mingle]

A Stitch in Time Saves Nine...or something

Don't You Fret My Dear, It'll All Be Over Soon; I'll Be Waiting Here For You

[Mingle OTA] Spring Feast

003 ✝ i won't be made useless, i won't be idle with despair

06 Coconuts & Surprises [OPEN]

APRIL 7TH RETURNS TO THE VILLAGE – MID-DAY

APRIL 7TH TALKING TO HERSELF – JUST AFTER HER RETURN

APRIL 8TH INN – MORNING

APRIL 8TH INN – EVENING

if they ask, why'd she go? you can say that life in eden changed [OTA]

strike me down

003 ∞ whilst this planet has gone cycling

exhalation of the ambivalent god [ota]

In Every Job that Must be Done...

(no subject)

(no subject)

0I Waterlogged [OPEN]

A New Life...Again