pineslog | (catch-all) the storm & the st. paddy's day festival

(catch-all) the storm & the st. paddy's day festival

CATCH-ALL: 16TH & 17TH

march 16

THE THUNDER ROLLS

The day starts off atmospherically heavy. The clouds are low, and the temperature is unusually warm, settling in the mid to high 50s (teens in Celsius). Townies are wandering around town in lightweight jackets and hoodies making small talk about the unusual weather, but for the most part they're pleased with the warmth, even if the clouds off in the distance look rather ominous. As the day goes on, the clouds creep closer and the residents seem more inclined to get a roof over their heads and stay there. The midmorning news predicts heavy rainfall by the late afternoon, but the savvier townsfolk say it’s going to be worse than that.

They’re not wrong. The sun drops low, and the winds start to pick up, howling through the trees, bringing with them nickel-size chunks of hail and torrential rains. The darker the night gets, the worse the storm hits Wayward Pines; by the time the sun has set, the sky is obscured with opaque, swirling clouds, the winds snapping trees in half, rattling the power lines, causing electricity to flicker and sometimes go out. The hail pings against the cars not safely parked inside garages, leaving the more exposed with significant damage to paint and windows, and anyone brave (or stupid) enough to step outside is instantly soaked to the skin in cold rain.

The most chilling thing of all isn’t the rain. Anyone trying to wait the weather out on Main Street will hear three wrenching cries coming from the woods, almost like the exact moment a person shreds their vocal cords in a scream. The townies claim not to hear anything unusual. It’s just the wind, they say, and they may be right. The sound as it shrieks through the trees and between buildings is similar enough to cast doubt, and combined with the rain even the most experienced camper would likely get lost trying to find it.

march 17

THERE’S WHISKEY IN THE JAR, OH

Whatever damage was caused by the previous night’s storm has mostly been cleared from Main Street by the early morning of St Patrick's Day. The streets are still a little wet, with plenty of puddles for the more adventurous children (and adults) to splash around in. The air is still a little chilly, but nothing a sweatshirt can’t fix. Nothing’s fully set up until about nine in the morning, but when it is, the St. Patty’s Day celebration gets under way. It’s small, more of a farmers' market or small festival than anything major. There’s food stalls and tables for eating, as well as a few booths where townsfolk are plying their crafts and non-food wares, as well as live music. The festivities during the daylight hours are pretty tame, a PG-rated good time for all.

When the sun sets, the party gets a little more rowdy. Someone busts out the booze and someone else busts out the Mardi Gras beads, and the music gets louder. While many food stalls are still open, the rest have shut down as the street fills with revelers, many of them holding cups half-filled with beer or something a little stronger. This part of the party isn’t for kids, and if anyone underage is spotted they'll quickly get escorted back home by the police — so try not to get caught, yes?

MOD NOTES

This is a catch-all for any and all threads pertaining to the storm (March 16th) and the St. Patrick's Day festival (March 17th)! Details on both of these happenings can be found in the March Newsletter.

PLEASE INCLUDE IN SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, which Day(s) your top-level takes place in, and Open or Closed, to help keep things a bit more organized. (For example: "Joe Biden | 16th & 17th | Open!")

Should you choose to participate in both mini-events, you're welcome to make separate top-level posts for each day or to combine them both into one.

If you have any questions regarding this event, feel free to ask them here.

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[ Holy shit this costume is detailed. Aranea's eyes widen at that ear twitch and then she laughs, just for the surprised joy of it. ]

Good to know. Not to break the illusion, but this is pretty impressive. You do good work.

I'm not drunk. All the stuff I drank was green.

[That ... that makes no sense, Kenzi. It's not an excuse. You're totally trashed.

Awwwwwwwwh, Jefferson apologized!? Kenzi smiles right back at him, totally touched that he cared enough about their budding friendship to apologize! What a bro.]

It's okaaay. Don't even-- ... don't worry about it. [He gets a wobbly, drunken smooch to the cheek that kind of lands on his jaw because what even is depth perception right now. And then Rumlow's scooping him up and Kenzi suddenly feels so much lighter!

She grabs onto Rumlow's arm, a little petulant, but otherwise okay with it.]

I'm fine. I can walk by myself. I've got LEGS, Brock of Ages. [But she is prone to wandering off and Rumlow's got his hands full. Literally. She can see the logic behind hanging onto him. It keeps them together.]

[ Maybe not paradise, but he's sure as shit that they were better than at least this. Or, last he checked. Which would've been before the accident, and everyone knows he wasn't here before the accident. Fabricated or not, the ending of any relationship is difficult, as he and Elena went through several starts and stops. (If you ask him more starts than stops.)

When he replies, it isn't with his signature attitude, it's with a level of growth he exudes since Elena was plunged into her coma. ]

From what I barely remember, you two had something good. So. Sorry.

In the flesh. Well, in your car. [ Your car, Kenz. ]

Three or four years. You lose track. [ Especially, because, right, he doesn't know a lot of these little details. Who knows if the title to his business is accurate. He's had more important things on his mind and in the great memory conversion, a few things slipped through the cracks. ]

I'd understand the need to hot wire when stuck in something like this. Drop your keys from surprise?

[ Now he's just goading her. ]

[At least Jefferson is apologizing to Kenzi -- not that she really seems to give a single fuck. She might in the morning, but he's sober enough to vouch for Jefferson if the apology needs repeating. Guy is lanky, but he's not so heavy that Rumlow can't carry him a few blocks home. They'll just have to take it slow to make sure they don't slip.

He does smile at Kenzi's kiss, even if she ends up with her lips on the rough stubble of his jaw. He starts walking, rolling his eyes in amusement at her nickname. He's really got to come up with something stupid for her.]

Don't need you Russian around is all.

[There. That's suitably dumb for now. No one seems to bother or even really notice them leaving the festivities and that's just fine with Rumlow. He just wants an easy walk back home so he can put these lushes to bed and deal with shit in the morning. He's sure there will be a lot to discuss.]

They've got good reasons not to. [ In that, Malia is confident, although she's not openly giving examples without being prompted. Nor does she have much in the way of solid evidence to provide. ] You wanna go sometime? Least, to a certain point. [ He doesn't know her well enough to be aware that when she backs off from a threat, it's as alarming as it is serious. Malia doesn't exactly back down easily.

She starts in for another bite with the look she catches, shoulders twitching in a small shrug. ]

This, apparently. [ Another bite, glance around them with the wind. Freaky. A cant of her head. ] Frenemies? [ Not that he needs to clarify: she gets what it means. ] And, everyone? Really? You have that happen a couple weeks ago, too? [ And some change, but maybe he has.

She's stuck on the idea of people actually arriving there, too, missing that he's safely (so it seems) suggesting that everyone, most people, find their way to a hospital over the course of life they're able to remember. Babies generally go to hospitals, but they're not talking about children. Thankfully. ]

[ Concerning as hell: why is Malia engaging with a TALKING lion?! She stares, eyes widening at the drama that backs his tone and word choices.

Tessa? ...Who...? ] Well the US already has someone who...rules over it [ said because she's defaulting to the usage of the word 'king' ], so unless you're from some weird place that doesn't have a current president... [ A long beat. ] I bet you are, too since you're...well. Look at you. [ A wave of one hand. It's blunt and can be taken as insult, since she doesn't know what the hell to think. ] I think Edison died, like, forever ago, though.

What year are you even...from? [ WHAT IS GOING ON? WHO IS THIS LION EVEN. ]

[ Is that... sincerity? It seems to throw Jefferson for a loop. He looks at Damon for a prolonged moment, uncertain how to respond, so he just nods. ]

Thanks... [ And then he shrugs. ] It's for the best. [ He's certainly happier being out of that house, even if he's in such a gloomy state right now. That has nothing to do with the end of the relationship, though, and everything to do with the way his mind's been since his accident. Still, since Damon sets his attitude aside for a moment, Jefferson tries to offer him the same courtesy. ]

How's... [ He's married, isn't he? What's her name again... ] Katherine?

❰ he almost misses the smoke amid the rain. when he does see it, he wanders over—a luxury he can only afford with his trion body, which is why he's in his squad trench coat instead of casual wear—and peers under the fort.

fire usually means people, and there she is: a girl, maybe sound asleep. all things considered, she's found a good place to wait out the weather. ❱

Hey, you okay?

[ ibaraki keeps on going with that giant fuckin box, but she knows that voice......... SHE KNOWS THAT VOICE. she whips around, almost smacking him in the face with a corner of the pepsi machine (those cans are going to a bomb squad to open them when she gets back to the murder frat house) and screeches at the sight of him. ]

Green man! [ DROPS THE VENDING MACHINE, PROBABLY DENTING A CORNER, AND ALSO MAKING THE SODABOMBS EVEN MORE VOLATILE, AND DARTS IN FRONT OF IT. ] This is not candy, it is a box of elixirs! The humans do not need it, which is why I have liberated it from the child jail.

[ read: its sweet and caffienated and i stole it from the high school.

even worse than ibaraki with crystal pepsi? ibaraki with mountain dew. ]

march 17th, before the festival;

[ servants without masters don't sleep; they have no need. eliza doesn't remember what it's like to sleep a full night anymore — not since stepping out of the throne of heroes. something at the back of her mind tells her that even before then, she hadn't been sleeping well. she still can't remember the finer details of a lot of her life before this town or the holy grail wars, but she remembers enough to know who she is. lady elizabeth bathory from hungary, seen as nothing but a doll by her family and those who loved her, pressured into staying young and beautiful by any means necessary.

eliza supposes the joke's on them now. as a heroic spirit she'll never age: her beauty will be everlasting and everyone will love her.

she remembers growing up within stone walls, well educated but not often allowed to play with other children. perhaps that's why she's outside now in the early morning hours. a potent mix of being unable to sleep, unable to stay within those walls any longer, and unable to shake off the sudden, pressing migraine at the back of her eyes. it comes and goes, sharpens to a point and then dissipates. a clawed hand presses to the side of her head but she shakes it off, horns tossing condensation from the post-storm air.

her white boots come to a pause at the edge of a shallow puddle, and eliza tips her head down, glancing at her reflection in the water. the wind ripples the surface, and she tips her head. when the rain came, it would often come down heavy, and the streets would remain muddy for weeks afterward. eliza's not sure she's ever seen a puddle like this before, and she doesn't fight the strange urge to simply jump in. the cold water splashes up over her shins and out onto the street, and echoing the sound is her giggle, clawed fingers pressing to her mouth.

eliza's certain she's alone, but man, it'd be embarrassing if someone was watching, right? you should come ruin this moment. ]

march 17th, at the festival;

[ eliza can be found at pretty much any food booth that's serving something meaty and delicious, looking like she's about to consume her weight in protein and soda. without a master, eliza needs to actually eat in order to keep her mana stores up, and even though she's slowly getting annoyed with the whole thing, she figures it's better than actually killing one or ten of these townsfolk to consume their souls. after all, there's still that nagging need to ... atone for what she did.

if she's not at a food booth, she can be found harassing the band, insisting she be allowed to sing because "Don't you know!? I'm an idol, and I should sing for my adoring fans!" luckily for basically everyone, the band is adamant about not letting strange girls with tails and horns onto their stage because her appearance would scare the families. with each second that passes, eliza's getting more frustrated, and at one point, she'll even rip off one of her mari gras necklaces (she has about 30 of them) and throw it. sorry if you're in the way!

or really, just roll with it, this is wildcard. ]

Edited 2017-03-19 03:03 (UTC)

[She snorts, smirking at him. Right, it's TOTALLY HER CAR.] Keep your flesh to yourself, buddy, I'm a married woman.

[Losing track is definitely something she's familiar with lately. She doesn't even know how long she's lived in this town! She starts thinking about it, trying to recall if she's been here as long as Damon's been fixing cars, but it's just blank. Fuzzy around the edges. There's no definitive answer.

He catches her in thought and his comment throws her off just the slightest bit that her expression cracks into something a little bit guilty.]

... That's totally what happened. You see, it all started when I-- shut your face. I could still kick your ass out into the hail storm and watch you get bruised by sky-ice! This is a neutral, safe, judgement-free car!

[ For being an epicly bad liar, Caroline is actually doing a pretty good job at keeping everything... quiet? Not saying anything and pretending that everything is just dandy. That could be that Caroline is better at denial than she is bad at lying. As for the hail? She could thank being a vampire for coming out completely unscathed.

Needless to say, when she's stopped by a girl covered in welts, she feels a tiny pang of guilt. Her blood could easily heal this woman, easily. She's out for the festivities but she doesn't have a drink in her hand at the moment, which could be a problem considering booze curbs her cravings. ]

No-- [ she shakes her head, turning slightly to point down the street.] It's down that way. [ And she only knows that because the body shop is the near there, where Stefan and Damon are, most of the time.]

[ it takes a lot more for someone like caroline to get tipsy, let alone drunk. it's not impossible but caroline's no where close to being wasted so the sight of a small child wandering around isn't something that goes unnoticed. nor does it fail to draw some concern from her, considering the crowd is getting more rowdy by the moment.

still, one corner of her mouth tugs upward at the sight of the girl stealing a kabab, clearly trying not to be seen or caught. so with easy, caroline grabs another kebab (and one for herself), moving to stand right in front of the girl's hiding spot, putting her hand backward and offering the kebab covertly behind her.]

[Give him a second to translate in his head. It's a simple enough thing to understand if one is accustomed to Ibaraki-speak.]

Are you - ugh, never mind.

[He knows before he even finishes talking that yes, she is serious.]

Go put it back.

[The ridicule might be something Damon enjoys, finds comforting even, but 10K's sheer lack of reaction might end up a bit of a downer. He isn't insulted, or embarrassed, or irritated; in fact, his shrug's as casual as ever, despite the slight wince that crosses his face when one shoulder pulls at a bruised muscle.]

Don't know that I'd call it envy, just curiosity, but if you don't want to say I guess you've got no reason to.

[These feathers remain supremely unruffled, sir.]

[Frankly though, if you're looking to build an army of teenage boys, this one isn't a bad addition to the ranks. He's pretty capable, when he's not running out into terrible storms in pursuit of horrifying screams. He doesn't hit the same chords as some of those other boys she remembers, but there are echoes; he's seen some awful things, he knows, but the details are fuzzy.

And for now, he's smiling ruefully as he accepts the cup, sniffing it briefly before downing the contents with only the smallest of flinches.]

He was kinda hard to miss. 'Bout two thousand feet tall, big black stormclouds, hail the size of a golf ball. Guess it wasn't real smart of me getting caught out in that mess last night, but bruises fade, at least.

[10K's stopped for the moment when she finally catches up, an arm shielding his face uselessly from the rain as he searches the dark. Her voice is the thing that pulls him from his study, squinting over at her through the rain and occasional piece of hail. It's hard to tell through the dark and the wet, but he's pretty sure--]

Skye??

[He hasn't really talked to her in a couple weeks, but he's pretty sure it's her. The girl he walked to the sheriff's station, let her borrow his jacket. He'd ask what she's doing out here, but that's gotta be pretty obvious, right?]

Did you hear which way it came from? That scream...

[ Well, that does unruffle. And, really it's coming from Damon's still being stuck in this small town. ]

I'd ask you if you know what happened to the cat, [ Because of his curiosity. ] not that bourbon from my personal collection isn't worth killing over. I have more refined taste than green beer. But, if there's a time and place. [ It's now. ]

Do you like bourbon?

[ Because, he will pour you some of his close, personal bourbon.

A second passes when he considers something. ] You live down the street from my brother and me. [ And his wife, right now. Please don't ask about his wife, unless you know about his wife. Then, fine, he has a wife. ]

That makes two of us. Married.

[ Not a woman.

She turns on a dime and Damon loves it. This is how people should be in this town. Interesting. ] You'll learn, Kenzi, that besides being the fun brother, I'm also the brother who rarely judges. I'm just thrilled there's someone else interesting in this town. Besides my brother. [ Ugh, he rolls his eyes. ] And my wife. [ An after thought is what Katherine Pierce should always be. ]

[Jiaying has kept her arm up for most of her trip, so that has taken the brunt of the beating. She pulls up her long sleeve and grimaces at the ugly sight of pockmarks that are likely going to bruise. Her face receiving only a cut or two from the hail. The rest of her body will have to be checked later. For now, she's mostly running on adrenaline.]

I'll be fine. You're bleeding.

[she looks at Skye with concern, reaching up to gently touch the tips of her fingers to her face. Regardless of what she remembers, how sour things went, there is something to be said about finding your daughter again after spending a month looking for a baby. After remembering the absolute devastation of losing her. She'll give Daisy another chance. It's the motherly thing to do, isn't it?]

[ Damon is capable of it, even if you may not remember that. He does think the him that "lives" here is more sincere.

Ugh. Right. ] We're going through a rough patch, but, fingers crossed. [ They decided for the cameras they're working on things, but, it can't be that easy. Maybe they would see that as insincerity. ]

[ The screams he's heard before probably have something to do with it, right? ] Maybe. [ It's not a no, and it's more of a yes, but Damon's hardly ever agreeable. They'll go, just not today. ]

Not quite friends, sometimes enemies. Frenemies. [ They work together when they need to, they send them to hell when they have to. Or, they did. Or, they haven't. Tenses. ] I don't mean this hospital. Any hospital. People get hurt, they get injured, they have twins, they end up in the hospital. [ All vague notions form where he came from, it doesn't count as breaking the rules! ]

The frequency of accidents in this hospital is bizarre.

Not really, no. [she agrees then carefully removes the beads from around her neck and tucks it around his. All without spilling the drink in her hand.]

Now you look fabulous.

[ Works with Steve, works with Steve... No, that's not quite right, is it? He can see it now, coming into focus through the static. A memory of Rumlow talking to him, though he can't remember the words just yet, can't make them out. Just sees his mouth moving as he says something.

He tries to break out of his cold demeanor by forcing a huff and cracking a smile, like he's humoring something that he doesn't quite comprehend. ]

You started moonlighting at the school or something?

[ Steve's an art teacher, after all. Rumlow may be willing to let his mask slip, just a little, but there's no way, especially now, that Bucky's going to do the same in-kind. If he could place Rumlow, maybe (--your mission, Soldier--) he'd be inclined (--targets--) to let his guard down (--Project Insight--) enough to agree to the (--launch--) conspiratorial offer. They could use an ally (Hail HYDRA.), him and his targets--

What? No.

Steve. Natasha.

They're his friends, not his mission. They're his friends, and he knows now where he met Brock Rumlow before. Does Rumlow even know? Is he playing games, or has he forgotten? If he has, how long will it be before he remembers?

Does he know the words?

With his heart hammering like it's trying to escape, Bucky takes a shaky breath, struggling to keep his voice level. He has to get out of here, but like hell is he going to make a scene, not for Rumlow or the cameras. ]

I can't think of anything we need to talk about. [ He swipes his book off the table, and stands. ] I gotta go. It was good to see you.

[ They both know that's not true. ]

Edited 2017-03-19 21:39 (UTC)

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Page 5 of 16

(catch-all) the storm & the st. paddy's day festival

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16th

you love me

lancer (elizabeth bathory) ★ march 17th ★ open!

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17th

it true

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