hadriel_logs | Event Log: Fire Festival

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Event Log: Fire Festival

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Fire Festival event
Where: All over the city!
When: September 14th-17th
Warnings: Smoke, fire, alas no marshmallows

Honestly, it's probably pure luck that a fire hasn't broken out sooner. All you people with your cooking and your magical fire powers and your explosives, you know? It shouldn't be a surprise that in a city with no fire alarms something will eventually get, well, a little too hot. It's only amazing that this is the first time.

So, are you one of the lucky ones? If you live on the south side of the city, in the houses that recently arrived, you'll probably be fine. You can go chill at the hot springs while everyone else desperately tries to save their homes and shops. Not your problem, right?
Or maybe you're a slightly better person than that, and you head right in to help the injured and stop the fire. Nice!

If you're on the north side of the city, things are going to be a little more urgent. Sure,
you could go chill at the hot springs too, but your house might burn down, or your favorite shop, or one of the nicer landmarks that you've gotten attached to. Maybe you should keep an eye on things - protect your own stuff, save yourself and your friends and pets, and then lend a hand to those in need. All you've got is each other!

► This log covers September 14th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you get a little too crispy for life, please let us know here.

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(When Lucretia finally makes it to bed and (theoretically) to sleep she knows that, to her mind, relaxation is going to be a pretty hard sell. Dealing with the fire had been more stressful than she realised; Taako has been dutifully ignoring her presence all evening; by the time Lucretia is ready to sleep she's keyed up and just knows she's going to dream about cycle sixty-five tonight. Conditions are perfect. Or– almost perfect, because this time Lup is there sharing the bed with her, and she's wearing an old shirt of Lup's to sleep in that smells like her. Lucretia is hoping that might be enough to trick herself into realising she isn't actually alone. Just this once?

She doesn't remember falling asleep.

All Lucretia knows is she's suddenly awake in a cold sweat in the wee small hours of the morning, her heart pounding hard enough to hurt. The panic is overwhelming, made even more distressing by the horrible realisation of being in unfamiliar surroundings and she freezes in place, cold dread washing over her as she struggles to sit up. She's breathing so hard, horrible gasps as she comes back to herself in slow increments, hands shaking wildly; a glance to the side confirms Lup is lying there, she's right there, it's fine. It's fine.

It isn't fine. She's still caught up in the nightmare. She loops her arms about herself, hugging herself as if she can physically hold herself together that way and closes her eyes tight, waiting for it to pass. It always does, eventually.)

Edited (some extra words just for fun) 2017-09-15 16:18 (UTC)

[Lup's normally an early riser after a childhood spent on the run, moving from one temporary shelter to the next, always on guard against the rest of the world. But there's a certain difference in rising early by choice and being roused before she was ready.

This isn't the first sleepover the two women have had in Hadriel, but it's Lucretia's first time in the twin's room, crammed into a tiny, floating twin bed with Lup, Lucretia closer to the edge while the elf has her back pressed up against the wall. There's been a lot of shuffling, Lup pressing her warm feet against Lucretia's shins, occasionally throwing an arm around the other woman's waist just to get enough room to properly stretch out. But for Lup, once she's comfortable, it doesn't take long at all for her to pass out after the events of the day, her dreams deliciously blank and perfectly peaceful.

--Until the figure next to her starts moving, dragging the elf into consciousness.

She mumbles softly before Lup's abruptly rolling over onto her stomach and shoving her face into her pillow. But even barely willing to open her eyes, Lup can hear the change of breathing next to her, feel the tension building up in Lucretia's trembling form. Lup peers up from her pillow and reaches out for the other woman's hand, dropping her palm into it.]

'Cretia? What's... [she grimaces at how rough her voice sounds, a combination of the smoke and sleep] What's going on?

Edited 2017-09-16 07:24 (UTC)

(She knows that she's made too much noise to not have woken Lup up, but she still feels badly all the same when she audibly stirs. This isn't fair. Lup isn't privy to this shit, to this part of her and she shouldn't have to be. Not like this. As much as Lucretia is trying to calm herself down, she's still shaking, breathing short and shallow. Her throat hurts.

When Lup lays a questioning hand on hers, she flinches.) Sorry, (she whispers, and despite everything her voice is soft. She squeezes Lup's hand.) Um, just– a bad dream, I'm fine. Go back to sleep.

(When did she start crying? She sucks in a shuddering breath, and wipes her eyes as surreptitiously as she can with the back of her free hand. Lup is right there, she's right there next to her– so why does she still feel alone? When she closes her eyes she can see the six of them frozen in calcite on the backs of her eyelids, six horrible statues, eyes wide and unblinking.

Her grip on Lup's hand has grown very tight, perhaps too much so.)

[For the briefest of moments, Lup considers it, just face-planting right into her pillow and passing out. After all of the physical exertion of the day before, she can still feel a soft ache in her limbs, a heaviness in her chest from breathing in too much smoke. But that shuddering breath is enough to convince her that sleep can wait. Whatever is going on, Lucretia was most definitely not fine.

Lup shifts, rolling onto her side to face the other woman, blinking rapidly to convince her sluggish body it was time to wake up. It takes her a second to recognize how painfully tight her hand was being gripped and that it was very obvious that Lucretia was crying.

Had Lup ever seen her cry before? Sure, they've laughed themselves to tears a million times in the past, but has she ever seen a middle of the night just-can't-keep-it-in kind of cry from Lucretia?]

Luc, hey, I'm awake, I'm awake! [She pushes herself up and her free hand falls on Lucretia's shoulder.] Talk at me, chickadee. I'm not that awful a bedmate, right? Taako's said I've kicked in my sleep before, but I thought he was always talking shit.

(When Lup finally pushes herself up into a sitting position, Lucretia's free hand flits from her arm to her shoulder in quick, gentle touches like she's reassuring herself of something. The tight coil of panic in her chest is slowly starting to loosen, leaving her weary.)

No. (She even snorts, but still relinquishes her tight, lifeline grip on Lup's hand to wipe her eyes again with shaking fingertips.) No, it's– uh, not that. You do kick though. (She has no idea if Lup's constant impulse to distract from the current situation is helping or hindering. A careful balance of both, perhaps, because Lucretia both doesn't want to talk about this, but knows that she should. Knows that, realistically, she has to now, especially after waking Lup up during the aftermath of a nightmare of all things. She exhales in a rush, and sniffs.

Okay. Fuck it, Lup said talk. She can talk.) I did a cycle alone. Sixty-five, I mean– you all... died, and I had to do it alone and it still scares me. (Even now. Even twenty-seven years on this shit still haunts her, still creeps into her at night and puts a stick into her common sense and swirls. Lucretia's expression is unfathomable, eyes half-lidded, exhausted.)

[Somehow, and really it must be pure luck on Lucretia's part, Lup manages to keep from asking her follow up question of 'Yeah, but do I have good form?', because asking if she's kicking correctly in her sleep seems super important to her, but maybe not so much at this moment. She'll inquire later.

That snort seems like a small victory though, Lup shifting a little more to adjust herself comfortably there next to Lucretia, slipping an arm around the other woman's shoulders and dragging her back to sit up against her pillows. Hey, if they are going to have a serious conversation, they may as well be comfortable.

At first, Lucretia's words just don't connect, partially due to Lup still shaking sleepiness from her head, but also because the idea of them all dying just seems impossible. Sure, her and Magnus could be a little reckless at times, but Barry and Davenport and, hell, even Taako were a lot more careful in their day-to-day interactions. What were the chances they all kicked the bucket over the course of the year?]

Huh. [Lup doesn't understand. She doesn't get that Lucretia means the whole cycle, from day one. She doesn't know about her being constantly pursued.] That majorly sucks. I mean, you were still able to get the ship out of there no sweat, obvs, so it all turned out good in the end. Still though, I'm sure however we fucked up that year, we all learned from it. None of us would ever want you to go through that again.

No, I– I know. (She sighs, and leans into Lup as she's drawn back against the pillows. If only she was having the same problem with being only half awake: she feels hard-wired and alert despite her exhaustion. This is bog standard sixty-five behavior. You don't spend an entire year purposefully training yourself up in intervals to check that nobody is following you without that impulse coming back at in strong flashes, even at inconvenient times. Lucretia bites her lip and looks at her knees.

The way that Lup blissfully misunderstands her offers a way to get out of this. It would be easy to field questions about this, or promise she'll answer them in the morning. Lup is tired. Lucretia feels like her mouth is full of dread, prickling and uncomfortable at the back of her throat. Why is it so hard to talk about this? A tiny voice in the back of her head dutifully reminds her that if she had only talked about it when it had happened, she wouldn't find it so hard now.)

I had to fix the ship. (She starts, after a moment's pause. Her voice is quiet, even.) Davenport crashed the Starblaster during the landing and when I woke up, everybody was gone. There was a hole, a big hole in the hull. It was a nightmare, I... I didn't know what had happened. I didn't know what to do, Lup. I had to learn and it was so hard.

(On the sixth day she gathered all the material pertaining to the upkeep of the ship that she could find and read for hours curled up in her bed, making notes. She had raided Barry's room for tools on day seven, and then on her first attempt to weld the rift together with pieces of scavenged metal from the wreck she burned herself badly on the torch and had to stop to cry, crouched down so as not to worry Fisher who was watching nearby, uncharacteristically silent in its tank.)

And I– they found me, fifty days in and– (she knows she's leaping all over the place but she can't help it. Her hands are starting to shake again.) I was still wearing the fucking robes, I didn't– they caught me, took me back to the capital and I– I saw–

[Ho. Ly. Fuck.

Lup has never been so goddamn wrong in her whole entire life.

Lucretia speaks, her voice soft and surprisingly level, and she fills Lup in on just what occurred that awful year alone. And Lup finally gets at least a piece of it. The true depth of just what Lucretia went through could never truly be felt by anyone else but the woman who'd had to spend a full year in fear, always looking over her shoulder, always praying to survive just one more day. But Lup gets it now.

Everyone had been gone from the very beginning. A crash landing, a hole in the ship, the entire crew unaccounted for except Lucretia, their quiet, careful biographer, left all on her lonesome to fix everything and save them.

'They found me.' Even without a clue who they referred to in this scenario, the idea of Lucretia being captured just burns right through Lup, making her equal parts furious and terrified. Maybe it's a ridiculous sentiment when all of them have died during various points of their journey, but thinking of anyone putting their hands on the woman pressed against her side fills Lup with the kind of anger that leaves her whole body trembling.

And at the same time, so much of what Lup's already heard about the future makes sense now. This was cycle sixty-five, right? So was this the catalyst for her future self wanting to go lich? To keep something like this from ever happening for a second time? To make sure no one was ever left behind on their own again?

Though her blood is boiling, the only thing that leaves the elf grounded is the fact Lucretia's hands are shaking so visibly in front of her. Her grip around the other woman tightens, drawing Lucretia's head to her shoulder.

She still has more to say. Even if Lup's not at all ready to hear it, Lucretia's been holding this in too long.] What did you see? Tell me.

(She knows this can't be easy for Lup to hear. She's vaguely aware that Lup is having a visceral reaction to what she's trying to explain, but now that Lucretia has started she finds she can't stop. She clenches her hands into fists, pressing her nails into her palms until it hurts and that offers a little extra clarity.)

They told me I was going to be put on trial. (It was her fault, for continuing to wear the robes. She had been trying to strike a balance between the terrifyingly new and the familiar, trying to pretend it was just another cycle. But they had found her one afternoon, trying to drag a large piece of metal back towards the Starblaster and recognised the bright red uniform. She'd tried to outrun them. She'd used up her useless amount of spellslots slinging fireballs but they'd chased her down with ease. She shudders in memory, and presses a little closer into Lup's side.)

There was this– domed hall, white and jade green and grey, straight lines everywhere. The adjudicators told me that was where I would be judged– they called me 'traitor'. Betrayer. (And she had felt like one, too. For being unable to do anything in that moment, for having given up so easily.) The walk to the dome was this... rock path, lined with statues of those already condemned. Those judged guilty by Providence were turned into stone immediately and left to wither away over the years– and you were there. (Lucretia's voice breaks.) All... all six of you, frozen.

(She had screamed. She would have kept on screaming, too, if the adjudicator leading their small party hadn't slapped her to get her to stop; now, sitting here with Lup, her hand leaps trembling to her mouth in memory of the old wound. Tears well in her eyes anew.) I thought I was going to die, (she whispers, closing her eyes tightly,) and that everything would have been for nothing. I was so scared that it was all going to end right there, that the Hunger would take everything because of me.

(And that fear had, thankfully, forced her hand.) But I got away from them, I– (she sniffs hard, exhaling sharply as she wipes her eyes,) I startled them with a cantrip. I don't think that they were used to magic. And I got away, but they never stopped fucking chasing me. Right until the end, Lup, they were on me the whole way and I couldn't stop for anything.

[If this was any less horrifying, Lup would be affectionately teasing Lucretia over her detailed focus on the surroundings in that moment. Her impeccable attention to every color, every shape, every line of the building she'd been brought to. It was just so Lucretia. It was exactly why Lup loved listening to her read from her journals, because she could always picture the scene so completely when it was coming from Lucretia. She painted pictures with her words in a way that Lup's never known anyone else to do. But the fact that those tiny details are still so vibrant in her mind without having to dig out her journal, even nearly thirty years later, makes her stomach drop.

How many times had this scene replayed over and over and over again in Lucretia's mind?

It's painful, all of this is. Lucretia's voice breaks in her retelling--'you were there'--and Lup abandons any pretense of playing cool and shifts, pulling Lucretia so that she could wrap both of her arms around the other woman. They were judged by these people and turned to stone? What the fuck had they ever done to deserve that? Was working to save the whole universe not good enough to clean their slates of the smaller, pettier crimes from before? Bullshit.

But somehow, even hearing about her own future's fate isn't nearly as horrific to her as listening to what Lucretia had been forced into. It takes all the strength that Lup has, but she manages to keep from interrupting with her own exclamations, waiting until Lucretia's finished before allowing herself to speak. Lup squeezes the woman trapped in her embrace, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her temple. This is so out of Lup's ability to comfort, but gods, she'll fucking try.]

Hun, you fucking made it. You're out of that place and you totally crushed it and we're all safe because of you. And that's never going to happen again. Ever. I won't let it. ['I thought I was going to die'. Lup will do anything to keep Lucretia from ever feeling so frightened again.]

You're such a badass, though. Holy shit, Luce.

(Lucretia sinks into Lup's embrace when she offers it, extracting her arms from between the both of them to put around Lup in return. As hard as it is to talk about this, there's a certain amount of relief that comes with it too. This is the most she's talked about cycle sixty-five since it had happened. If she had to guess at why that is, she'd come back with a complex mix of both not wanting to relieve what had happened out loud, and wanting to keep the others from knowing what she had gone through. She's not stupid. She saw Lup's face while she was recounting everything.

Whatever the reason, it's done, now. It's out. She isn't alone.)

I did. (Surely, after everything, she's still allowed a bit of triumph?) I had to fix the ship in shifts because I didn't know who was watching me, or when but I– I did it, Lup. I did the whole damn thing by myself, and then I had to learn how to fly it, and then how to override Davenport's commands, and then–

(So many things. Everything that could have gone wrong did, but she held fast through it all, learned to use that loneliness like a weapon to make herself sharp and desperate. Lucretia had lost a lot of herself to that cycle, a lot of her hesitance, her shyness, the reluctance to take any kind of charge. She misses that about herself sometimes, but she doesn't regret what she's become either.)

It still keeps me up, (she says instead, and her hands make fists over handfuls of Lup's shirt.) I have nightmares, a lot. Sometimes I wake up and I don't– I think I'm alone again. (Those are the worst: all the times that she's woken up paralyzed by fear and forced herself out of the bed to find somebody, anybody so she can prove to her panicked brain that they're all still there.) I hate it.

[It's impressive. Lup's not sure she'd even know where to start if she had to make a serious repair like that to the ship. She'd watched the boys do a little bit of minor work on the Starblaster when necessary, but nothing as significant as a giant hole in the hull. The fact Lucretia had to do all of it on her own, while always keeping an eye out for her pursuers, the idea is just staggering. It seems like such a big piece of their history aboard the ship, like something someone else should have mentioned to Lup before this.

Didn't they all know how deeply this had clearly affected Lucretia?]

I think you just overtook me as the most bomb-ass bitch on our crew. You're incredible, Luce. I'm just really proud of you. You're stronger than anyone could have known. Hell, a lot of us would have buckled under that kind of pressure. [Not her, obvs, but a few others might have been more inclined.

Lup feels her best friend trembling against her, fists curling into the fabric of her shirt, so she continues to hold on, a hand moving to Lucretia's back to draw idle shapes along her spine.] And when that shit happens, you're going to call me. [It was neither a question nor a suggestion. Lucretia had a shiny new device made specifically for keeping contact with people who weren't just a room away anymore. Lup expects her to use it.] I don't care what I'm up to, you know I'd be there in an instant. You don't have to go through this shit alone. I'm not going to let you.

[Everything just sucks for them in the future, doesn't it? Lucretia is here, shaking and crying over her frequent nightmares. And Lup's woken up to Taako screaming on more than one occasion, refusing to talk about his own night terrors, just silently crawling into bed with her and pretending nothing was wrong by morning. What's she going to do with these two?]

Edited (now with less tired ) 2017-09-17 18:49 (UTC)

(Lup's praise really helps. It's not that all Lucretia needed all this time was for somebody to hold her and tell her she did a good job in order to feel better about this, but it– well. It just really helps. It's the reassurance, the physical comfort that helps to soothe over the raw edges of her nerves and ground her. When Lup's hands move to start tracing patterns across her back Lucretia sighs and relaxes against her, focusing on the way her fingertips move. Little by little, her hands stop shaking.)

Okay.

(Oh, she sounds so tired, so relieved. Lucretia wishes she didn't. There's a part of her that wishes she could have this shit on lock-down already, that she didn't have to keep waking up like this, stressed out of her mind. If only she could clamp down on this and keep it from constantly rearing its head in her. But... if Lup is going to help, maybe it will be different.)

I will, (she warns, and chuckles weakly. She should at least know what she's getting into before she invites Lucretia to bug her at odd hours of the night.) You're– Lup, this doesn't have a schedule. It isn't ever convenient. You understand that, right? I appreciate it, but it's... (sigh.) It's a whole lot.

[Lup waits until she feels Lucretia's trembling still before she pulls away enough to catch the other woman's gaze, just so she can roll her eyes fondly at her.] Don't be dense. I said to call me. Timing doesn't matter, Lucretia. For one, elves don't sleep. [She says after having been asleep just ten minutes prior to this conversation. Don't question her.]

Two, not sure if you've noticed, but the list of shit to do in this place is pretty thin. My schedule's suddenly hella more open than before. [Taking out the 'finding the light of creation' piece to all of their calenders really freed up a lot of time. Time that is spent solely underground, trapped within a single, dull city. It gets boring, no matter how social Lup tries to be.]

And the most obvs, you're one of the four people in this place that matter, nerd. If we can't be there for each other, what's the freaking point of everything we've accomplished so far? Just accept my help.

Elves might not sleep, but I think that you sleep.

(But she gets it, all the same. She's actually really touched by Lup's offer, at all the evidence she has to back it up with, and isn't quite sure of what to say next. The truth is probably good.)

Okay, okay. (Lucretia rubs the back of her neck, then gives her eyes another half-hearted knuckle. She feels wrung dry, emotionally speaking. Why is it so hard to talk about things like this? Lup is looking at her, concerned, and it makes her want to be so much better than she is at this.)

Thank you, (she says eventually, her voice soft and tired.) For listening to all of this at– god, what must be insane-o-clock.

Nah, never. [And the moment's still a little tense, worry for her friend so obviously etched onto the lines of the elf's face, but Lup smirks. Lucretia knows how much a lie it is, Lup knows she knows, but it's amusing to her. And maybe a little amusement is what the need to calm down and get back to sleep.] Meditation all the way. Four hours a day. No more, no less.

This--[she points down at the bed, right where she'd been drooling slightly in her sleep ten minutes earlier] All meditation, baby. So hit me up. If you can't sleep, we'll paint the town instead. Lup-n-Lucretia style.

[Not that there's much to do in Hadriel, but at least the speakeasy's a good place to get lost in when the rest of the cave is sleeping. Lup's ended up there dancing with strangers on more than one late night, walking away with new friends she hadn't exactly gone out to make.]

So, what'll help? Tea? Warm milk? I could probably scrounge up some cocoa for hot cocoa too.

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Event Log: Fire Festival

for lup!

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