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

[officialnotice]

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.

Comments

[comesfrompain]

Okay, you're both drunk. Time to get you home.

[It's not an attempt to stop Kenzi from saying embarrassing (and true) things. Besides, the sooner they get home, the less he has to worry about regarding the constabulary. He doesn't know if that deputy is going to come back or if the ploy of PDA -- yes, that's what he's calling it -- worked.

He hooks his arm around Jefferson, tracking a path out of here with the least amount of obstacles in the way. It would probably just be easier to carry the guy, really and keep Kenzi next to him so if she trips, she doesn't drag them all down. He glances towards his wife.]

Think I'm gonna make this easier. [He shifts, putting his arms around Jefferson's waist and quite easily scoops him up into his arms. It probably looks ridiculous, given Jefferson is not a short man, and now he's being carried like a baby, but it'll keep him from getting dizzy.] All right. Kenzi, grab onto my arm.

[royalpassport]

[ Honestly, if they have a spare room to dump him in, Jefferson won't protest. The prospect of going back to his motel room isn't something he finds particularly appealing right now. So, sure, he'll go home with this nice couple and sleep off the booze.

...

It's a really good thing they're not serial killers.

He looks at Kenzi, offering a drunk and apologetic smile. ]

Hi... Sorry I kissed your husband...

[ There's a sentence that triggers some deja vu, like he's been caught kissing somebody else's spouse before. Huh. Jefferson blinks blearily and lets Brock guide him, though he doesn't register when he's being lifted up until the world spins and suddenly he's in Rumlow's arms.

Like a bride.

What a strange feeling. Whatever. He won't protest, because it beats trying to walk right now. He just wraps his arms around the other man's shoulders and nestles his face in the crook of Brock's neck, murmuring: ]

You're strong.

[ Carrying all 160 lbs of him like that. All in all, he supposes this isn't such a bad end to what had been a pretty lousy day. ]

[onteamdyson]

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.]

[comesfrompain]

[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.]