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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caelus

WHO: Jim Kirk
WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
WHEN: Backdated to June 10 and onward.
OPEN TO: All, unless otherwise marked.
WARNINGS: No warnings as of yet.
STATUS: Open.

( jump to warp. )

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."

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.

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

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.]

thesavior

WHO: Emma and Killian and YOU (The whole Village, even people they don't know)
WHERE: The church, outside, the Inn
WHEN: Friday May 5th Mid afternoon
OPEN TO: All (one locked to Killian)
WARNINGS: It's a party so idk
STATUS:Open Note: This is a mingle style post. Feel free to write your own starter, tag around, have fun!!!

If life was truly a fairytale, then Emma would have woken up and the birds would have been chirping, and everyone around her would have burst into song. Life, however, at least in Emma's experience was not a fairytale. Today, however, felt different. She opened her eyes and a slow smile crossed her face. It was early so she had time to be lazy.

She was getting married today, or they were getting married today. She still had to pinch herself to believe that all of this was happening, and that, she, Emma Swan was finally going to get her happy ending. The powers that be must have noticed something was up because earlier in week she had received a box with enough pasta and meat sauce to feed their guests as well as some bottles of wine to share at the party. Emma had spoken with Kate and Sonny about the church and the inn, and even gone as far as to check in with Sansa about her dress. All of the details were in place, which was kind of scaring the crap out of Emma, because she was usually a fly by the seat of your pants kind of girl. For the first time in her life, Emma didn’t feel nervous or scared when it came to her relationship. She knew from the deepest part of her soul that Killian was her destiny and today she would get a chance to acknowledge that in front of everyone.

Emma felt like a princess as she stood before Killian, and pledged her love and her life to him. She left her hair down because Killian liked it that way. She couldn’t help the tears of happiness and the smile that just wouldn’t go away. Part of her was glad they were here and not back home, at least here they didn’t need to worry about curses and memory loss. They could just be happy and celebrate with their friends.

The Inn was sparsely decorated with flowers, but it was beautiful and Emma was happy. The food was served, and the wine flowed. The one thing Emma hadn’t thought about was music, but she didn’t care, she was happy to hum along as long as the guests were having a good time. This was a celebration of love and life after all. The party lasted well into the night, and after the last guest had left, Emma and Killian left, walking home hand in hand to start their new life together.

goldsteins

WHO: Tina Goldstein
WHERE: Goldsteins, School house
WHEN: April 29-May 1
OPEN TO: Any
WARNINGS: N/A at this time
STATUS: Open

( april 29 )( may 1 )

[OOC: Note, I'm up for any other prompts/people! If you want to plot/a specific one let me know and I'll be happy to do so.]

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."

goldsteins

WHO: Tina Goldstein
WHERE: The Fountain & Around
WHEN: 3/25 Onwards
OPEN TO: Closed arrival to Queenie, OTA threads to anyone else
WARNINGS: Nothing applicable at the moment
STATUS: OTA sans Queenie thread

FOUNTAIN// ARRIVAL
(This is locked to Queenie, but should you want to do something with it let me know! It's merely because I prefer not to have a lot of initial reaction threads. )

Tina is usually not so quick to wake up in the mornings. The nature of her job forced her to be an earlier riser, but even then she had to wake up a little earlier than most. It took at least one cup of coffee to make her ready for the day (some days more if a case kept her later than usual). The sudden jerking motion, as if from a fitful of sleep, to wakefulness is more than enough to set her sense alive. Her brain whirled half groggily become aware very quickly that this was certainly not where she was supposed to be.

It's December in New York. Most of the water inland was frozen over, so she has to be somewhere else. It's distinctly somehow warmer than it had been and that's more than enough to set off further bells. Bells that she can't really take heed to at the moment as she forces herself upwards. Grateful, not for the first time, of the training that Aurors were pressured to go through of all kinds. Panicking right then would surely be her downfall. A few moments later her hand grasps the sides of a slick wall, uses it to guide, and lets out a strangled breath as her hand grips the edge and her head emerges from the water.

She gives herself a moment to catch her breath before giving a frustrated noise and hoisting herself out of the water. The immediate danger seemingly gone for now, the woman can't help but still remain on high alert. What kind of Auror doesn't have a wand? She mentally scolds herself, but it's easily returned with a simple: The kind who was sleeping peacefully in their home until five minutes ago. The realization sobers her from the adrenaline high of a few minutes prior and she takes in her immediate surroundings: Buildings she would certainly not find in their part of New York.

A tensity sets her shoulders and for the first time she glances down at herself: Definitely not the comfortable pajamas she had worn to bed. Her mouth formed a thin line and she rises to her feet, hefts the weight off her back-- a bag-- and glares at it as if it's the problem here (there was a lot of problems here).

"What in the name of Deliverence Dane is going on?" She growled to herself neverminding at the moment how absurd she most look as she unzips the thing hoping against hope somehow a wand would be in there. Hope, of course, doesn't work and she hardly looks as absurd as the last person to arrive. Or the person before them.

LATER// AROUND THE VILLAGE
Once she's settled and dry, Tina finds she can't sit any longer. As much as she wants to sit and talk to her sister-- to make up for an apparent lack of being there-- she's restless. The house Queenie had settled in was nice, far larger than their one bedroom they shared in New York, but it reeked of unfamiliarity. The idea of simply having her own room after all this time was simply disconcerting and saying as much wasn't going to help anyone (of course, however, her sister knew her better than anyone could read her in ways she didn't like to be). Tina just had to get out and do something: Anything.

Even taking in the village left her uneasy. The functionalities of things didn't seem so strange, but she's used to taller buildings, crowded streets, millions of people. There was overcrowding New York and here it seemed overly spacious. The fog certainly doesn't help. When the weather was right the fog rolled over Manhattan and on a good day it was difficult to see where you were going and as homey as that feeling was it's inherently wrong. Tina feels more disconcerted by the moment as she takes in the various houses and buildings, frowning at how it can seem so empty and stepping away quickly if she comes too close to someone.

She doesn't seem to offer any words of apologies in that moment: Or at least the excuse me doesn't sound entirely apologetic. It's not as if people running into each other in overpopulated New York wasn't normal nor was it really easy to see anything. The disgruntlement is obvious in her tone if and when she does even if she manages a somewhat apologetic look.

THE WOODS// A FEW DAYS LATER
Being busy is just part of who Tina is and investigating is another. Once she's set on where things are in the village she can't help but test the limits: Just because someone says they're trapped doesn't make it any easier for the woman to believe. Her time in any expanse of forest is few and far between. Most of her job involved city arrests and her Ilvermorny days were kept to the school (not into the surrounding woods on Mount Greylock). In spite of that she's determinedly made her way into the woods.

The woman certainly doesn't move with any sense of ease in the woods, but she's careful enough. Taking in the growth and wondering just how large the woods are. If there's really no way out. Right now, however, she's merely curious-- taking in the area as opposed to even trying to find a way to escape. It's hardly as if she's prepared for that at all.

Unfortunately for her, inexperience in a forest shows and now and then the noises of animals moving or the rustling of trees makes her stiffen up. At one point she catches sight of a deer out of the corner of her eye and stops-- Turning to it in surprise and gives out a puff of a breath.

"Now this is ridiculous," She mumbles to herself unhelpfully deciding then that she's certainly had enough for the day and turns to find her way back to the village. Which is another thing altogether: Mapping a city she can do. A forest? Not so much.

posilutely

WHO: Queenie Goldstein
WHERE: Graves' House/Inn & Hot Springs
WHEN: 1 week after her arrival & March 22, evening
OPEN TO: Graves, Credence & All
WARNINGS: Half-naked witch? IDK
STATUS: Closed

( for graves & credence )

current: at the hot springs (ota)

The hot springs has, by far, been the flat-out, absolute best thing Queenie has discovered about this place. A chance encounter on the road a couple of weeks ago, a teenage girl with big, tired eyes and a towel looped over her arm, dark hair still pinned high on her head.

I don't want a scar, is what the girl had said when she'd pulled up her sleeve to show the ghostly web of lines tracing her skin. It's great for your hair, too.

Queenie's been slipping out into the forest every few days since.

The girl hadn't been wrong; curls once limp were now bright and bouncy again, and Queenie just felt better each time she took the time to go the springs. She could swear she had more energy than ever before, but even if she didn't, she thinks she'd go anyway. Sure, she's got a tub at home, but it's just not the same.

Today she's carried along a couple of bath towels and an empty teapot to fill with water to carry home. They're set neatly aside under the nearest tree, under a low branch draped with her coat and clothes, black cotton fluttering gently in the warm mist skating off the water. She's kept on her underthings -- She's not that bold, no matter what her sister might think -- but there's not all that much left to the imagination as she gratefully sinks in, all the way up to her shoulders.

hawkeyesniper

WHO: Riza Hawkeye
WHERE: Around the Village
WHEN: Week of March 5 (various prompts)
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: PUPPY...oh wait...I don't have to warn for that.
STATUS: Open

( 1. A New Gift... )

( 2. Training Day... )

( 3. A Spark... )

chosenbytheocean

WHO: Moana Waialiki
WHERE: Inn/Between the Inn& the Woods/Woods
WHEN: Feb 6th – Feb 15th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: FEB 10th has a lightening attack and mention of scars after that.
STATUS: CLOSED

Where you are…[Feb 6th – Feb 9th] Forest/Inn/Anywhere In-between

Moana was able to find a dried fibrous grass, milkweed, to not only make a net with, but possibly a new dress as well. She’s set to make the net first, getting used to the new material. It’s different from the small hairs on the outside of a coconut, longer, but just as strong. She spends a few days gathering as much grass as she can find, stashing a lot of it in her room at the Inn. She broke the stalks off so that the roots remained safely tucked in the ground and are able to regrow in the spring and summer. Moana was silently thankful for the cold weather and snow. The cold killed the stalks and the moisture from the snow softened them enough for Moana to take them apart.

Through the next few days she can be found tugging these long stalks from the ground, searching for more, returning to her room at the Inn with an arm load and then sitting next to the fire where she fights to peel away the outer section of the stalk to pull at the thin fibers inside. Her fingers are a sore by the end of each day but Moana didn’t mind. It’s something she was used too and the work brought its own sort of distracting comfort.

Her efforts outside were dictated by the rising and setting of the sun. In the evening she could be found near the fire with thin strands of milkweed at her side. Her fingers knotted and twisted the material together to create a rope that slowly formed into a net. During her work she’s singing softly, the song moved her through her work as she focuses on each task.

So here I'll stay
My home, my people beside me
And when I think of tomorrow
There we are

I'll lead the way
I'll have my people to guide me
We'll build our future together
Where we are

'Cause every path leads you back to
Where you are
You can find happiness right -
Where you are

[ooc: Full song here.]

Shocking turn of events…[Feb 10th] Between the forest and the Inn

Moana had heard about the incident at Ren’s house and while she hadn’t known the man well, she felt the loss as she walked through the village. There was a shroud of sorrow draped over the town and it was a feeling that she just could shake. Moana believed in a journey after death but people should be allowed to rest where their families were, not in an unfamiliar realm. She had seen the mark left by the lightning strike. That sort of thing was hard to hide in a village this small though Moana couldn’t say what it meant.

Trying her best not to worry, she tried to continue her work, helping in the few ways that she knew how.

It was when she was walking back to the Inn that she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. Electricity crackled as a ball of lighting pulsed and shot through the air. Moana’s head turned in time to see the brilliant white light as the pulsing orb connected with her arm. In three milliseconds she felt everything. Her heart shuttered and every nerve in her body stripped and screamed as if it grated against by course paper. She felt the tendrils of electricity seeking an exit like the hum of wasps violently buzzing inside of her skin. Her shoulder was burned, her clothing singed and her arm was marred by bursting blood vessels creating a scar that twisted violently across her dark skin.

Moana heard a horrific scream and it took a moment to realize it was her voice that was making the terrible sound. Her knees buckled and slammed against the hard ground. The collection of dried reeds she’d been carrying burst into flames as they fell to her side, sending a lazy circle of smoke up to the sky.

Can’t sit still…[Feb 11th – Feb 15th] Around the Village

The lighting strike left a noticeable scar on Moana’s arm though she continued to comfortably wear her tank top around the Inn on those rare days that she had no intention of going outside. Her moods had been erratic since the strike and there were moments where she’d lose control of her arm as if a lose current of electricity sought an exit.

She knew that she should be resting but Moana wasn’t very good at doing nothing. She also wasn’t very good at listening to others when she thought they were wrong. The first few days she crept out her window to collect more reeds but as the days pass she can be seen getting back to work on her net. When her arm would freeze or jolt erratically Moana would frown and at times throw the string to the ground in her frustration.

"Why are you being so difficult!?" Moana saw nothing wrong with yelling at the fibers of string. "Animals eat you!"

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.

hawkeyesniper

WHO: Riza Hawkeye & Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Ravi's House #18
WHEN: January 6th (backdating this)
OPEN TO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WARNINGS: Blood
STATUS: Closed

( Can't go to hell if you're already there )

pretendtoneedme

WHO: Clint Barton, whoever
WHERE: Around town, the fountain...
WHEN: Throughout January 19th
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to encounter him
WARNINGS: Standard mentions of drowning, otherwise TBD, but there'll probably be talk of fighting at the very least. Violent babies.
STATUS: Yes (if this changes, I'll edit)

1) Arrival (Early Morning)

Waking up underwater was pretty much the last thing Clint expected after managing to fall asleep after their rescue – and it was pretty much the worst. Whatever phobias he'd had as a kid had been trained out of him over the course of his life, but there was still a lingering thread of unease about really deep water, since even with as good as swimmer as he was he probably wouldn't be able to escape it fast enough to find breathable air. It didn't ever lock him down or stop him from going on any sort of underwater transport, but he was always just a hair more primed to act when on a sub or a submerged helicarrier. Birds just did better in the air.

So when he woke up not only not where he expected, but underwater, Clint's first reaction was one brief moment of panic before clamping it down, because panic would definitely get him killed and he had a lot to live for to die so stupidly. There was a soft light filtering down from what was probably above him if the pull of gravity was any indication, something looped around his shoulders that felt familiar and so was discarded as not a threat for the moment, and a sense of being pushed up. Whatever was going on here, getting air was the most important thing, and only about a second of orienting himself and taking all of that information in passed before he was following that push and kicking to the surface. Fortunately it wasn't as deep as it looked and he broke the surface only a few moments later, gasping for a clean breath and sculling to the edge of the... fountain? What in the hell...? And why was a fountain so deep...?

Grabbing the rim, Clint hauled himself bodily up and over the side to sprawl on the ground, breathing heavily and waiting for the pressure in his head to even out. Once it did, he was smacked clean in the face with how cold it was, especially for someone who'd gone to sleep in early summer in Africa. It wasn't made better by the fact that he'd managed to fall in a pile of old snow, or that he was only wearing what looked like white scrubs and some decent boots – neither of which he'd ever seen before. (At least the scrubs weren't blue.) Sitting around wasn't going to help anything, and he needed to dry off and warm up before his muscles seized and he got hypothermia. Waiting would do him and anyone else stuck in this situation no good. Pushing himself to his feet, Clint started stumbling to the nearest building that looked like it was inhabited, determined to find some answers.

2) Acclimatization (Early Afternoon)

Absolutely nothing about this place made sense. That was the only conclusion he could come to – it had to be magic, or alien science, or something. How else could a person (group of people, probably) kidnap so many different people from so many different times and worlds and with so many different skillsets? And not have any of them remember how they got here or be able to find a way out? They had to be dealing with something beyond any of their experiences and that, more than anything, was a frightening thought.

But he didn't let it show, because it would do no good. Panicking would just leave them stuck at square one, and so the first step was to canvas the area. It would take him a few days to map the entire place (as much as he could), but for now Clint – now warm, dry, and wearing every speck of clothing that had been in that pack since it was a shock to go from summer to winter – was taking his first walk around the village, ducking into every major building just to see what's going where and start making his mental map. Know where all the hiding places and all the exits are. Don't get stuck in a corner if you can at all help it. Maybe they were trapped in this place, but they didn't need to make it easy for whoever put them there.

3) Analysis (Late Afternoon/Evening)

Maybe it was a dumb idea for his first day, but Clint didn't even try to stop himself from taking a short walk into the woods. He wouldn't go far – monsters or animals or whatever weren't something he wanted to take on without at least a knife he could throw – but it was another resource, another set of potential hiding places, and it sounded like their best chance for food. He hadn't grown up with nothing in the backwoods of the mountains, but he knew how to survive out there and how to best live off the land if he had to. He was good at hunting and he was not good at sitting around and doing nothing (much to the annoyance of the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D.). Day One was probably too early to jump in like that, especially since he had nothing to hunt with, but he wanted a first look so he could start making some plans.

hawkeyesniper

WHO: Riza Hawkeye
WHERE: Inn, Fountain, Woods
WHEN: January 1st - 2nd
OPEN TO: ALL; though the first one is probably only open to people sleeping at the inn
WARNINGS: Hallucinations, Creepy Shadow Child, Monsters and Violence
STATUS: Open
NOTE: Riza is experiencing some hallucinations I got her. Any monsters or characters I mention are all just happening in her head...though that might not be obvious to others at first ;D

( I. Inn Only - Midnight Terrors )

( II. Any - I'll See You Soon )

( III. Any - Hunted )

womanofvalue

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: #43 - The Vincennes
WHEN: December 27th - Evening
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open (Gathering Style)

When the gifts had arrived, Peggy had treated them at first with the same suspicion as anything else here. Things simply weren't that good to be true, but these gifts had people's names on them this time. With the exception of several that she couldn't begin to understand (such as that one from a man named Ivan, that she barely recalled interacting with), the rest were so kind and thoughtful that she soon found herself with a wealth of possessions she hadn't hoped to possess here.

The party had been borne of one single thought: I have nowhere to wear such lovely things and when she'd found the wine and liquor from others (including Tony, which didn't surprise her in the very least), she knew that she could change that. She'd posted a quick notice at the inn using some of the cardboard of a box and the lovely fountain pen Helen had given her, then did the same at many of the public buildings, inviting people to her home and inviting them to bring any food or drink they might like to provide, as well as suggesting this as an opportunity to wear their fanciest.

She set out her drinks (the ones she was willing to share) and made sure to tidy the home so that it was presentable. In her youth, back during her first engagement, she might have imagined entertaining like this on a regular basis, but that had been swept away by the war. Instead, Peggy was left hoping that such a gala would be acceptable and that she wouldn't simply be here alone tonight.

Setting her new record player (and her single record) down, she cranked it to begin playing the record that had come with it (a pressing of the Glenn Miller Band), and then she began to convince herself that there was nothing more that she could do.

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.]

zymasoldat

WHO: Bucky Barnes
WHERE: The Inn, Around the Village & Outskirts
WHEN: ~~Mision Report:~~ December 16th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Nothing yet.
STATUS: Closed to new threads

i) inn
For now, Bucky lives at the inn. And, with the weather being as it is, it's also where he spends much of his time. He helps out where he can, wherever Kate will let him, and when he's not, he's practicing the little, essential skills that he's had to re-learn to accommodate his condition. At least tying his boots isn't a frustrating ordeal anymore. He can manage pretty quickly.

Right now, he's downstairs, by the fireplace, trying to tie slip knots and snares one-handed, using his shoelace for practice. The problem? There's a cat who just loves to pounce on the shoelace. Or attack Bucky's ankle. Or flop on top of any surface he's trying to use.

It's really tough to get much done with a cute little tailless tabby distracting him. And, if you walk in at just the right moment, you might see the former assassin smiling and playing with Miss Hoppity.

ii) around the village
To say that Bucky's been feeling frustrated with his role in the village is a definite understatement. For all that he hates what HYDRA did to him, it's been a part of him for so long. The metal arm, the strength, the durability, they were all included in his definition of normal. With the absence of his robot arm and the dampening of his abilities, he's been feeling off-balance. Rudderless.

It's not a new feeling, if he's being honest. The question of what kind of life he'd ever be able to make for himself has been hanging over his head ever since he broke free from HYDRA's conditioning. What can an assassin who no longer wants to kill even do? But at least back home, living off the grid, he still had his strength and both of his arms. Made it easy to get by with jobs that paid under the table. He quickly learned how fulfilling it was to do good, hard work that amounted to something more than a trail of grief and broken, lifeless bodies. Work with his hands, mostly.

The problem being that now? He's only got one. And it's making it tough to figure out what he can do without feeling like a burden. So, when the weather permits, he likes to leave the inn and check out the rest of the village, see if he can lend a hand (don't laugh) to anyone, try to find some niche he can fill and really be an asset to the village.

'Asset.' Poor choice of words.

iii) beyond the village
At first, Bucky didn't venture out of the village as a rule. He wasn't assured enough in his ability to deal with the threats the wilderness might pose to go on any expeditions or hunting trips. He's still not, really. But, over time, he's started to test the waters a little. Always during the day, always following the river, and never going too far from the village. He's not sure what he's after with these little trips. Mostly, he just wants to see the area for himself, get a better feel for it.

It's always possible he'll run into somebody else along the way.

ottimismo

WHO: Sonny Carisi
WHERE: The fountain and the inn
WHEN: 12/14
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Nooothing? Will update as needed.
STATUS: Open

( she says i've got nothing to fear )

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with fullmetal alchemist: riza hawkeye

Credits & Style Info

001. i'm tellin' y'all it's sabotage.

001. and thus begins a journey

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

ψ come away little lass come away to the water | SWIMMING MINGLE OTA

if the sky can crack [OTA mingle]

Someday My Prince Will Come

003 | something witty here

[Mingle OTA] Spring Feast

001 | arrival

My heart will lead me there soon [Locked & OTA]

I've Got this Fire in My Soul

03 A Shocking Realization [Open]

goodbye, my darling

Everything Comes to a Head

And Way Down We Go

Nightmares, Dreams, and Questioning Reality

(no subject)

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

left from my dreaming was a feeling of unnameable dread [NOW CLOSED]

001 ✝ there's an angel with a hand on my head