Sixth Iteration Logs

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WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
WHEN: (When the post takes place)
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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.]

andrend

WHO: Kylo Ren
WHERE: Around the village, the mill, the fountain,
WHEN: Sunday (Morning -> Late Evening)
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: Potential for violence
STATUS: Closed

( No excuse for idling. )

seekingvinland

WHO: Thorfinn
WHERE: The woods, The blacksmith.
WHEN: December 13th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Nothing yet, will update if needed, though its Thorfinn so bad language might just be in norse.
STATUS: Open

The woods
Just like any normal day, Thorfinn was up before the sun. A sad welcome home to Jo. The resident screaming alarm clock hadn't changed that much. He felt bad for waking them, he always felt bad when it happened. He dressed quickly, pulling the multiple layers and then the cloak Kate had made on, and set about heading off into the woods. He no longer worried about any thing happening to him. It was a touch dangerous but it was also truer to himself than he had allowed himself to be for a long time. Since he had taken his oath of non-violence. He feared nothing in the woods with the horrible gift he had received. If something tried to attack either it or he would die. A sad end to a story, but it was how he felt of late.

He spent most of the morning into late afternoon felling and chopping up a tree to make it easier to drag home and split into lumber to use at home. The colder it got the more the need grew. Not just for his home but for others, which was why he left almost all of it sitting out back, easily seen to be taken. Kate was given permission as he owed her for the cloak, but still he didn't care who took from the wood pile. He and his would make due, and he would keep working through the winter.

The Blacksmith

Coming by again, he made his way inside, dropping some wood to feed the fire for the forge in case the new Stark came back to mess with it. He checked out first to make sure no one was around before pulling the door shut and taking his cloak off. His long hair was hanging loose today but mostly confined under the cloak. It was staticy when he tossed it aside. Walking across the room he sat down beside the wood pile and took a deep breath. holding his hands out he pushed his sleeves up and, then he let the breath out and watched flames start to dance around his fingers.

It hadn't gone away yet, nearly a week and he was still trying to hide it. Forever secretive when it came to himself. Reaching one of one of the split logs he had brought with him he held it in his hands watching it start to burn as he held it. He knew he should get the forge fire going and see if he could get it to temperature without relying on the charcoal, but honestly he was scared of what that meant for him.

"Faðir, hvað er að gerast við mig?"

He spoke as he did often when he thought he was alone, he spoke his now language.

catchallthecats

WHO: Arya Stark
WHERE: By the fountain
WHEN: December 13th, afternoon
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Arya Stark being Arya Stark, discussions of violence more than likely
STATUS: Open

It had become something of a habit. Arya would explore the strange town, and on the days when her older brothers weren’t keeping tabs on her? She’d range further. Into the woods, looking for any signs of anything off. Old campfires, ruined buildings, anything that might hint at what story this place had. Not too far yet, not with what had happened. Just enough to start getting used to what was normal, so she’d notice when things were off. While snow hid quite a bit, the lack of leaves and undergrowth currently meant she could see much more of her surroundings.

But even on days when Robb or Jon were paying more mind to what she was doing, her daily explorations took her to the fountain park. If anyone asked, she was simply hoping that other members of her family might show up. Not entirely a lie, but the knife borrowed from the kitchen hidden under her coat belied the claim, as did the dark expression she sometimes cast towards the fountain when alone.

There were specific people that if Arya saw them arrive would certainly get a hand, though that would be followed rather quickly with a knife somewhere unpleasant. There was no way she’d take any risks and if there was one Southern lady here already, who was to say more wouldn’t come? Those who meant her family harm? So no one should pay any mind to the girl scowling at the fountain like it had somehow personally offended her, hands in the pockets of the coat she wore. She wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t getting into trouble. Just plotting a bit of hypothetical murder, nothing wrong with that.

thecatinahat

WHO: Cougar Alvarez & The Hunting Party
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: December 12th
OPEN TO: All - jump in wherever it suits!
WARNINGS: Discussion of violence
STATUS: Open

In a way, the village is strangely like coming home even though it's not one that Cougar would ever have claimed. Maybe it's not that he's relieved to see the village, but just that he's relieved that the long hike back with a heavy, eight foot beast on his shoulders that reeks and makes him smell awful has been wearing on his last nerve, making his patience dwindle to the point that when the inn comes into sight, it's a good thing, otherwise Cougar might have killed the first thing they came across.

The beast is large and looming and he's inclined to believe Helen's theory that this is what killed the animals and Karen. The rest of what they've found is equally as confusing, but given the amount of people they seem to be attracting given their cargo and the smell, Cougar doubts they'll have any trouble rallying the troops to discuss it.

He hefts up the animal over his shoulder for the last few feet into the inn when the door is held open for him, heaving it off his shoulders so it collapses on the floor. Cougar digs out his hat from his back pocket, sliding it on his head, and glancing over his shoulder at the people who have come in. He tips his hat to them as he glances back at the creature, bending down to haul the arrow out of the thing's eye, because he'd carved this one himself. "It's dead," he offers in a rough deadpan, the sarcasm dryer than some of the winter days.

Sniffing himself, he grimaces and heads off to the corner with one last jut of his thumb towards the group. "They know more." And with that, he heads upstairs to try and get some of the awful smell off and to wrap up the bruise on his chest, just in case.

repressings

WHO: Credence Barebone and you (ft Annie Cresta)
WHERE: Fountain, inn, and around the village
WHEN: 12/8
OPEN TO: Legit everyone
WARNINGS: Most likely mentions of abuse in tags, will edit accordingly. Spoilers for Fantastic Beasts!
STATUS: Open.
( Aɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴ ᴡʀᴀᴘ ɪᴛs ᴀʀᴍs ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ )

almightythor

WHO: Thor Odinson
WHERE: The Inn, village roads, his bungalow
WHEN: 2nd December
OPEN TO: all
WARNINGS: none at this time
STATUS: CLOSED TO NEW THREADS

When Thor awoke, he was not cold. This, of course, was a new development considering that winter had fallen upon their village several weeks ago and had not let up for some time. There had been snowfall for most days and even though it had cleared the day of the feast, it had come right back. He had grown used to the idea that this was a place where it snowed, quite a lot, and they were in for a long, dark winter.

So why, precisely, was it unbearably warm? He kicked off his blankets and padded out onto the porch of his house wearing nothing but the too-short scrub bottoms that he had been gifted upon his first arrival to this strange place. It should have been cold enough to make his skin break out in goosebumps and yet, instead, it was not. When flakes of snow hit his skin, they hissed and melted almost immediately.

"What strange trick is this?" he asked, holding out his hand to examine it? As he did so, flickers of flame extended from the tips of his fingers and he blew on them quickly, trying to extinguish the fire. "Madness," he muttered. "It is clearly madness."

He went back into the house and dressed, intending to head to the Inn for breakfast and for the chance to speak with others. Was he the only one who had suddenly woken up like this or were there others? Were others experiencing fire coming off their fingers and steam off their heads; were others so hot that even a blanket was too much in the cold of winter?

"Tell me the meaning of this," he demanded, stepping into the Inn and opening the palm of his hand, revealing a ball of flame. "Why do I have fire? Does anyone else have fire? Has someone seen my brother here?"

If Loki were involved, there was no telling what all of this meant for the village. No telling at all.

lastofthekellys

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn/Pub's main room
WHEN: 2st December
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E ~~not going on science/hunt quest. Hunt a monster, miss a meeting <.<~~
WARNINGS: TBA as needed
STATUS: Open!

For the past few days, Kate has been spreading the word that there'll be a meeting after lunch today. The previous meetings had been in reaction to something, and to a certain extent, this one is no different. But Kate wants to try something else: planning. Planning on how to deal with the coming months when the weather will only get worse. How to deal with blizzards, storms. How to deal with problems hopefully before they arise.

And, maybe, it makes her feel better doing this. Organising something, now that her comrade-in-practical-arms (Mark Watney) has left her to go trek after a monster. Far, far more practical than having hysterics. Which she won't admit to having to anyone but her cat and Benedict.

(Her tea that night might have been spiked with a dash of whiskey to insure that she slept.)

Today, the weather is cold. There is snow on the ground, and the sun isn't coming out to play. It is the kind of day where people linger over their meals in the warmth of the Inn anyway, seats near the fireplace taken quickly. Towards the end, Kate starts to organise for the meeting. One of the smaller tables is tipped over its side so Ivan has something to write on to take the minutes, and Kate hands him some pieces of precious chalk.

Then she stands on a chair and taps a spoon against a tiny saucepan in lieu of a bell.

"Attention, please! I call this meeting to order. So much as we ever get order. Winter's not goin' away in a hurry, so before we all run into trouble, we're goin' t'come up with some ideas and share knowledge. Not all of us come from the same world, let alone the same environment. If it seems obvious to you, say it anyway, because it might not be to others. Everyone got that? Good."

With that, she steps off the chair and sits on it.

Meeting's begun.

[OOC: Like our other meetings, set-up is mingle and threadjackable unless otherwise specified. Please set up your own heading posts for various topics that your characters would bring up for some organisation, but otherwise, have fun!]

ofspaceandtime

WHO: Cirilla
WHERE: The fountain
WHEN: November 29
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None yet
STATUS: Open!

The brutal gust of cold, and the Wild Hunt’s vessel suddenly lurked in the sea off the coast of the Isle of Mists where she and Geralt stood.

“Get us outta here.”

“They’ll know where we’ve gone. They’ll know how to find me.”

“They already do. Ciri, take us home.”

The world turned in a flare of aqua light as it always does in her travels, and in her dreams. She wasn’t dreaming this time though, Geralt was there, had found her, and they were finally going home; finally to face Eredin and his hoard head on and come what may.

Except the world wasn’t turning the way it always did, and Geralt wasn’t there (had he ever really been?).

Instead of the solid ground of the keep Ciri expected to find on the other side, she was abruptly submerged in water and rapidly floating upward. Something had gone very wrong; even if this wasn’t the first time she had portaled into (or above) water, she had never lost anyone in transit before.

In fact, as she kicked herself to the surface, it became apparent how much more she had actually lost. She felt as though she was swimming wrapped in a potato sack, and it grew heavier as she caught her purchase on the edge of the fountain and hauled herself up over the edge in a sodden heap. It took Ciri a few beats to catch her breath and her bearings, enough to discover that when she reached back her sword was gone (sheath and all) and a pack, somewhat less sodden than the rest of her, had taken it’s place.

She had appeared many places before, but this was unequivocally her first fountain.

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with witcher: cirilla riannon

Credits & Style Info

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

Cold be Damned

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

I want to live where soul meets body

ring of fire (CLOSED TO NEW THREADS)

Meeting - How To Deal With Winter Without Blaming The Starks

Blown in on an icy wind