Sixth Iteration Logs

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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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rangerbecket

WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: Woods; lake; inn
WHEN: 30 May 2017
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: TBD

Since he and Killian had discovered the boats last month, Raleigh has been busy working on something other than the fishing lines. He's taken whatever spare time he can find to go and chop down wood, making smooth lumber in order to help repair the keels of the boats that he'd found down by the lakeshore. It's not something he's ever done before, working with wood, but he has a general knack for construction after his years of ironworking on the wall and he thinks he's doing an okay job of it.

Sansa has a little pull sled he has been using to drag the lumber from the forest down to the lake shore where it can be of more use. From what little he knows of these things, they're going to need something to seal the joints in these boats so they're watertight and he's not sure what that's going to be. Sap from the trees? Raleigh vaguely remembers that pitch is used in cases like this but he has no idea how to go about getting it. For now, he's working on just getting supplies down to the the lakeshore and then he'll worry about how to actually assemble things.

It's hard work, being a lumberjack, and after several hours of chopping wood, smoothing it down and dragging it down to the shoreline, he decides to go up to the Inn for tea. It'd be better if tea were something alcoholic but in the months and months he's been here, nobody's really worked on making a reliable supply of wine, rotgut or no, and he's gotten used to not ever having any unless the Observers decide to give them a treat. He's settled in one of the chairs lined up against the long dining table, hands wrapped around his mug of tea and smile somewhat content; a long day, sure, but not a boring one.

When he's done with this break, he'll head back to check his fishing lines along the river for the evening catch and then go home only to start it back up again in the morning.

[You can catch him at the lakeside near the abandoned boats, chopping wood, up at the Inn or somewhere in between.]

seekingcrocodile

WHO: Killian Jones
WHERE: The lake near 7I
WHEN: April 22
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None

Killian has been going farther afield, and for longer periods, lately. With the disappearance of Moana too, there's not really anyone expecting him in the village anymore, and there are others who fish. If he doesn't provide any fish for awhile, the rest will still be fine. And the weather has turned a little warmer and stopped dumping so much snow on them, making longer trips possible again.

He packs supplies sufficient for a few days in the pack he arrived with, intending to do some exploring along the lake near the second village. It just so happens that he has a couple of boats from a couple of winters ago, so his plan is to travel along the shoreline and then camp on land overnight. There's less walking, and it should be possible to get all the way around the lake faster than if he went on foot. Theoretically. He doesn't actually know how big the lake is, but he's determined to find out.

He doesn't know what he's looking for along the shore, specifically, just that it seems that if he wants to make it across the lake, it's better to do it with land in sight, not knowing where he's going. He wishes he could make a map of it, but paper is scarce, so his memory will have to do. At least if this is successful, there will be someone in the village who knows the lake.

Then, even though he's not expecting to find anything, he sees something. To most people, it probably wouldn't look like anything expect a pile of rotting trees covered by weeds, but to someone who's spent as much time as he has around seafaring vessels, he knows exactly what they are: boats. Good, sturdy, wooden boats, not like this flimsy collapsible thing he's got now. He beaches the boat and pulls it onto shore behind him, then goes to examine the boats more closely.

They're not in as good condition as they had appeared from the water, in bad need of repair, but they're still obviously wooden boats. With one of these as a base, he could have a boat unlike any he imagined he could have in this place. He could maybe even rig a sail to it, and salvage some things from the boat Moana constructed; she won't need the parts now, and doesn't think she'd mind if he used them for another boat.

He reaches out to touch one of the broken-down boats, almost lovingly. "You just need a little repair, don't you." It's not strange at all to him that he's talking to a boat, and he doesn't expect that someone other than the boat might be listening. "Don't worry. I can get you good as new, and then you can go back to doing what you were made to do."

He takes a step back again, assessing the state of the boat, making a mental list of everything required for the repairs. It won't be fast or easy, but it's possible. He may require help with some of it, but that is the point of this place, isn't it?

sixthiteration

WHERE: 6I Inn
WHEN: Morning, 18 April
OPEN TO: ALL - This is a mingle post
NOTES: Details may be found here

In the often-bustling front room of the inn there sits a large, old-style chalboard on a wooden stand. Chalk is a precious commodity, but limestone can be found easily, and both sides of the board are often covered with notes and notices from villagers.

This morning, the board has been wiped clean and a much different message has appeared on its worn gray surface:

Jude Sullivan and Francis Mulcahy have been exposed to toxic spores and will slowly drown if a counter-agent is not procured.

A yellow lichen is needed. It only grows on a small stand of trees in marshland two days to the southeast. There is no other antidote.

The following people have coordinates for the lichen loaded into their wrist devices. Only they may retrieve it, and only if they work together. If anyone else attempts this, the expedition will fail.

Peggy Carter
Beverly Crusher
Jean-Luc Picard
Owen Prichard
Margaery Tyrell
Mark Watney

Hurry. Soon it will be too late.

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

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."

collaronhisneck

WHO: Father Francis Mulcahy
WHERE: House 24/the Church; the Inn
WHEN: March 5-6
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: None, though that may change

( House 24, March 5 )

It's something he's been meaning to do for awhile, and now that the weather's starting to turn (it's undoubtedly the tail-end of winter, rough and raw in its own way, but the ice is slowly melting and the breeze seems a little less cutting), he's finally getting around to it. A scrap of wood board salvaged from the storehouse, likely from one of the destroyed buildings he's noticed in the village - a lump of wood charcoal from the fire - a little time - and there's a sign leaning against the balustrade of the porch on the makeshift church where Mulcahy has made his residence.

If you need to talk about anything, please come in. The door's always open, day or night. Absolute discretion, no judgement.

The words are then repeated in Latin, then slightly broken Korean, and then very broken French even though he's not yet heard it spoken in the village. It's not a large sign, but it will do, although he's probably going to have to redo it if there's a heavy, blowing rain as it might get washed clean. He's also got a much smaller one (Open door and willing ear at the church) to prop up on the mantle in the Inn. But in his opinion, it's high time he's started contributing more in a way that will hopefully make a real difference, and if people don't know he's always available when needed, they won't come. Even if it's only one or two, it will be worth it.

( The Inn, March 6 )

The next day, Mulcahy comes to the Inn to perform his usual round of chores and helping with any meal preparation along with any other little odd jobs that need doing, but this day he's also got a few other goals in mind. When they're both not busy enough to be able to talk for a bit, even if they continue working, he's specifically looking for Kate Kelly to ask her a few questions. And once lunch rolls around and people start trickling in from wherever they were working (or weren't, whatever the case may be), Mulcahy's going to find people who aren't too preoccupied with other things and walk over to their table, pulling out a chair nearby and sitting down with a polite smile.

"Hello - I was wondering if I could ask you a question?"

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.

learned_to_die

WHO: Eddard Stark
WHERE: Around the village
WHEN: November 16, the beginning of the ice storm
OPEN TO: OTA!
WARNINGS: Will update as needed

The steadily dropping temperatures has filled Ned with a certain vigor, one he has not felt for quite some time. He has yet to experience a winter within the village, and while he has come to expect short and fleeting seasons here, unlike the seasons of Westeros, he cannot deny anticipating the frigid temperatures with which he's so intimately familiar. He will therefore enjoy the impending winter as deeply as he is able, for long as he is able.

It is in the early morning hours, when the village is still cloaked in darkness, that Ned is stirred awake by the sounds of rain pelting the roof of the cabin. No, it must be something harder than rain, given the noise and percussion of the sound; perhaps ice? He thinks to check on the others but, as he always is, he is concerned with being too overbearing and too meddling with their lives. None of them are children any longer, and though he does not anticipate having his usefulness wear out with them, he does not need to treat them as though they were still the children running around the yard at Winterfell.

He attempts to find slumber again but finds it impossible with the noise. He goes to the window to glance outside and, indeed, it seems as though ice is falling and crashing against all that lay on the earth. He busies himself until first light, donning the Westerosi outfit he'd received as a gift some time ago, as well as the heavier of the two fur-lined cloaks he'd also received as gifts. Quietly, he slips out of the house and out into what feels like a transformed world.

The village he knew as of the night prior has been turned into a wintry, sparkling land reminiscent of the North - the trees cocooned in layers of ice, the rain and ice falling from above. There is a particular smell in the air that always follows these colder, more frigid conditions, and if he closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nostrils, he can almost convince himself that he's been transported back to the Godswood.

The thought of it reminds him of the small Weirwood sapling just south of the cabin and, after checking on it, he decides that perhaps he should build some sort of shelter for it, to protect it from the dagger-like ice.

He can be seen wandering about the village, checking the inventory at the Inn, trying to figure out a way to shield the small, white-barked tree from nature's harsher elements.

scepterschild

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

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

November 11th - 12th | House 20

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

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

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

November 13th - 16th | Forest

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

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

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

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

November 22nd | Inn Roof

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

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

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

Wild Card

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

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

ethnobotany

WHO: Beverly Crusher
WHERE: hospital, House 20, Inn
WHEN: Nov 4th and onward
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: will update as needed

hospital - Nov 4th

Of all the things Beverly had expected to find in the hospital, it wasn't a red, sealed envelope. She was alone in one of the rooms, looking through their supplies. She'd turned around to pick something up and there it was on a table. It hadn't been there before. Frowning, she hesitated for a few seconds before reaching out to pick the envelope up and turn it over. It has a wax seal with the same insignia as the one on her backpack. Not a very comforting thought.

Slitting it open doesn't seem to produce any terrible consequences and she pulls out the letter inside. She doesn't really know what she's expecting, but this sort of letter, or these instructions, definitely weren't on the list. A frown crosses her face, one definitely of disgust and confusion.

"What in the world...?"

House 20 - Nov 4th-5th

As soon as she gets back to the house on the 4th, she builds up a nice fire and tosses the envelope and its letter inside. Whatever the Observers might want of her, she isn't about to obey. That isn't the type of person she is. When it reappears in her room, again when she's alone, on the 5th, she does the same thing again.

"Whatever you want, it's not going to happen."

She stands over the fire with her arms crossed, watching the paper curl and burn, until it's all a mess of ash and fire and she can't tell what is fire and what was letter.

Inn - Nov 6th

Eventually, she ends up at the Inn, throwing the next letter into the fire there, on the off chance that it was somehow the fire that meant it came back. Unfortunately for her, that doesn't seem to have much effect either, so she spends most of the 6th looks really put out and actually more than a little unsettled. Somewhere towards the end of the day, she returns with another, flops into a chair, and stares at the red letter she's set on the table. What do they want?

rangerbecket

WHO: Raleigh Becket
WHERE: 6I, 7I
WHEN: 19 October
OPEN TO: Sansa Stark
WARNINGS: sap

( *** )

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.

learntthehardway

WHO: Diana Prince and OPEN
WHERE: Fountain, Inn.
WHEN: Evening of July 20th and on
OPEN TO: Open to everyone
WARNINGS: N/A will update if needed

f o u n t a i n

i n n

turned_to_steel

WHO: Sansa Stark
WHERE: River
WHEN: June 16th
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: none right now
STATUS: OPEN

( Read more... )

truecaptain

WHO: Kanata Shinonome
WHERE: fountain, around of the village
WHEN: June 14- onward
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: N/A, will update as needed!
STATUS: Open

( Read more... )

learned_to_die

WHO: Eddard Stark
WHERE: In the woods near the Stark cabin.
WHEN: June 13
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: None; will update as needed.
STATUS: Yes

It had arrived in a box.

Ned had carried it to his room, careful and gentle, and left it at the foot of his bed until he'd returned to the house later that afternoon. He's received the mysterious gifts before - a cloak, some gloves, other assorted items - but this was a strange sort of weight. Neither heavy nor light, not muted in sound the way the clothes had been. And tall. The box had been taller than the others he'd received, and for a time upon his return, Ned eyed the thing with careful precision and consideration before even laying another finger on it.

He finds his movements, his very breath to be more laborious than normal in light of the sudden disappearance of his youngest daughter. He'd woken one morning to find simply that she'd vanished, seemingly evaporated into nothingness. He'd been warned many times over that such an event could take place and did take place with some regularity, but - he'd foolishly thought his family to be immune. Certainly, given the what they'd gone through, given the pain and suffering they'd already endured, the Old Gods would not see fit to separate them once more.

What a fool he'd been.

After some deliberation and quiet self-muttering, when he feels the time of curiosity and thought has passed, he removes the lid, peering down into the chamber. His brows lift with surprise, eyes alight for the first time in days with intrigue and something vaguely resembling happiness. He reaches out and pulls out a neatly bundled sapling. To those not of Westeros, it might appear to be any other tree - something similar to birch, as he's learned, but to those from his homeland, they'd know the sight of a Weirwood immediately.

He perches himself on the end of his bed as he inspects it, slowly turning it in his hands. It feels real, true. There aren't any illusions he can find. He worries for a moment that having kept it in the box for so many hours might've damaged or dried out the roots, so - now, with a focal point outside of the grief and mourning he carries with him in his broken, shattered heart - he hesitates not a second longer before making his way outside of the cabin and a bit further down the path, where there are no more cabins to be found. He knows that, over time, the thing will grow great and strong - he needn't encroach on his neighbor's territory, even in the name of the Old Gods.

Ned places the sapling on the ground carefully before leaving and returning with a variety of tools: namely, spades of different lengths and sizes. At once, he pours his sorrow into the repeated piercing of the earth and displacing of soil, cursing the Old Gods under his breath for leaving him a weirwood instead of his daughter.

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.

thegreatexperiment

WHO: Samantha Moon
WHERE: Near that old arrival fountain
WHEN: May 19
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: Probably some adult language
STATUS: Ongoing

"If I die in this attempt, I need you to drop everything and run for that truck to save yourself. Don't look back. Don't try to save me or anyone else. Just escape."

Everything inside of Sam wanted to argue, to fight to resist the command. But Avery had her in his power, his eyes consuming her entire being. It was funny, really. Although they were siblings only by sire--they shared no blood--it was remarkable how much they looked like. Apart from red hair, Avery had the exact same blue eyes as Sam. It felt almost like a cruel joke. This was the brother she was meant to have, but instead, she'd been saddled with the Predators and now it was too late to even...

The thought cut itself off sharply, along with the feeling of helplessness. But all of a sudden, Sam felt like she was underwater. She was underwater. And it was cold and she had no idea how she'd gotten there and...could Avery have somehow wiped her memory? No, then she wouldn't have remembered his final command about saving herself. And there's no way Avery, or anyone else, could have somehow caused the pressure that was building up in her chest. It was a familiar sensation, but one she couldn't immediately identify. All she knew, on instinct, was that she needed to swim.

She cut through the water as fast as she could, thankful for once for the Illinois State Department of Education mandate that all high school students had to pass a swim test. She'd missed out on plenty of rites of passage as a child. Learning to swim was not one of them. In no time, she'd launched herself over a stone ledge, drawing in deep and greedy breaths as she rolled across the floor. It was amazing how good breathing felt. Of course, she wasn't one of those vampires who'd aged out of breathing. She still did it on instinct. But it had never felt so...good... It almost felt like she...needed to...

There was no exact way to pinpoint when it happened. The realization just crept up on her slowly as she gasped and coughed and spit up water. Her heart. She could feel it beating, pounding in her chest like a little jackhammer, the way it used to after her high school track meets. Her heart was beating. She was breathing. And the sunlight was shining down on her face without even so much as a hint of pain.

...she was human.

Sam started to laugh. Or maybe sob. Or maybe it was a little bit of both.

womanofvalue

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Inside the Town Hall
WHEN: April 3rd
OPEN TO: OTA - Mingle Style!
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open

The weather has taken a turn for the suspiciously lovely and while Peggy knows better than to think it's going to last, she does know that around here, if you don't take the good when it comes, you're stuck with the bad. She's had a bad few months, recently, between the lightning, the fireflies (she still feels worn down and exhausted, honestly), and the rash of disappearances that had taken their emotional toll on her. With the weather changing for the better, Peggy decides to put it to good use, quickly spreading word around town that she's going to hold herself a class.

It doesn't take very long to get the word out, thankfully, but even so, she doesn't expect there to be that many people who come. Lucky for Peggy, setting her expectations low means that she'll be pleased if even one person shows up and she knows that she'll at least have guilted Sam, Stella, or one of her other friends into coming.

Still, it would be nice to feel in control and useful instead of on the defensive. Carefully wrapping up her hands, Peggy finishes moving the last of the chairs to the side in order to give them some space, settling down blankets because she also doesn't want anyone to break a limb simply because she wants to offer some hand to hand training or, in some cases, simply practicing an old skill that might be growing rusty.

Eyeing the space and breathing in the fresh, fog-free air, she thinks that what she very much needs after her last few months is to hit something extremely hard and she does hope to find that opportunity now.

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.

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with pacific rim: raleigh becket

Credits & Style Info

he has no use for sails [OTA]

A boat without an anchor

[MINGLE] Color Coordination: The Announcement

[EVENT] The Simulation Ends

don't chase the rabbit

O My God: Henceforth I Resolve to Strive Earnestly to be Patient and Gentle

she is mine and i am hers (open; mingle)

[the dire wolf collects his due while the boys sing 'round the fire]

008 Who are you? [OPEN]

it's like playing the lottery with you ( OPEN )

(no subject)

the sun in my disgrace [OPEN + MINGLE]

001.

exploring

first stage

[old gods, hear my prayer]

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

Bought a ticket for a runaway train, like a madman laughing at the rain [OPEN]

(no subject)

the wilderness has ceased to run (ota)