Event Log: Regret This

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone!
What: The Regret This event
Where: Throughout the city
When: June 25th-July 3rd
Warnings: Sorrow is resurrected, and everyone is immediately full of regrets

Hope has finally managed another god resurrection, and the people have spoken! On June 25th, he musters his powers and brings Sorrow back to Hadriel. An orchard appears across the river, in the until now ruined part of the city, and Sorrow's temple is also restored. Hooray! One more god to make things a little more livable in this place.

Of course, it's not that easy. It never is. Along with Sorrow himself comes a wave of regret and guilt that blankets the city. All those affected will be inclined to not only be sad, but to linger over past regrets and things they feel guilty about. They can distract themselves with everyday tasks or whatever else they please, but they'll find that their thoughts drift back to these regrets regardless of what they do.

And of course, the best way to purge a guilty conscience is confession, right? On top of these persistent sad thoughts, people will feel the urge to tell others about them, to air their past mistakes or misdeeds and possibly receive some kind of forgiveness. So what if your neighbor doesn't care that you cheated on your final exams all through school? You have to tell someone, and they're right there. If it doesn't make you feel better, that probably means you haven't confessed to enough people yet, or maybe you just haven't found the right person. Better try again!

On July 3rd, Sorrow has settled in and this urge to confess your sins will die down, along with the constant regret. Let's hope you didn't confess anything too personal. Remember, you're gonna have to see some of these people every day.

► This log covers June 25th-July 3rd.
► 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 somehow manage to end up regretfully dead, please remember to hit up our death post!

Comments

Armoury

[mismanagement]

[The sword that Maketh had taken to carrying has been broken, warped beyond any hope of repair, and thus a new one must be found. Maketh stares up at the wall of blades and wonders where she ought to start.

It ought to be simple. Find one. Test the feel, test the weight, then be done with it.

Maketh rubs her eyes, shaking herself.

Focus, soldier. Do your duty.

She hasn't been sleeping well, but that's not new. And if she wakes up crying more often than not, then that is simply a failure of discipline. There's work to be done. Her personal feelings are irrelevant. And the arrival of a new god means there will be a host of new things to deal with.

There is always work to be done.

Maketh clears her throat, moving to stand at attention when Damen comes in.] Oh. Forgive me. I didn't see you.

[barbarus]

[ Damen looks up, a little surprised to see anyone else at all. He’d been lost enough in thought that he hadn’t truly been looking, which concerns him now that he’s realised it. He nods at Maketh, who at the very least is someone he trusts, and he moves into the room, heading for the throwing knives. ]

I didn’t see you, either. After everything that’s happened, I’d expect to be sharper than that.

[ Which only makes him more irritated with himself. If he could stay focused - ]

You’re after a sword?

[mismanagement]

Likewise. Times have been--trying.

[There must be a psychological weight to dying and coming back. Maketh can feel it pressing down on her. Thus she must keep moving, keep busy, or she will be crushed underfoot.

She nods.] Mine was broken. I imagine many things were.

[barbarus]

[ Damen looks up at her with a frown, distracted from his work. A damaged sword is one thing. A broken one is another; it’s telling of defeat, and given what the city had been through of late, that worries him. ]

It was broken. How did that happen?

[ His eyes flick over her, instinctively checking for injuries. Of course, Hope will have ensured none of those remain. ]

[mismanagement]

[He doesn't know. Maketh shakes her head. This thing has already happened and thus should not trouble her further. She should certainly not be having nightmares about it. The fact that she has is a failure of discipline that must be corrected at the first opportunity.

Speaking candidly will only serve her.]

A--monster was summoned by someone here. The idea was to force Hope out in the open and kill him, I imagine. When it could not, it...sought out those with his mark.

[Hope's blessing on her hand might as well have been a beacon. Maketh turns back to the swords, trying to find one that will suit her.]

I would not let it harm anyone else. Thus...well. It was not the worst pain of my life.

[She pauses.]

As I've said. Death is not permanent here.

[barbarus]

[ So it had killed her. This monster, a creature in the dark. Damen instinctively blames Sharon, the one that he knows had created the darkness and mist in the first place. This is her fault; he'd known she was putting people in danger, and the fact that Maketh had been hurt so badly infuriates him. He steps closer to her, anger radiating from him. It makes his large form intimidating, even though it's not directed at Maketh. ]

She's a greater fool than a realised. You did not deserve that.

I'm glad that you live. I am sorry you must live with it.

[ Because no matter what anyone says, it can't be easy to come back to life. You come back knowing something has killed you. Damen doesn't think he'd feel the same, knowing that.

He doesn't say so, though. He nods up towards the swords instead, and clears his throat. ]

You must choose a worthy replacement. What weighting are you looking for? Perhaps I can help.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh smiles, humorless, and doesn't shrink back from Damen's looming bulk. He's a big man, likely a terror on the battlefield, but she's not afraid. Not of him, and truthfully not of what lingers out in Hadriel's darkness. What's done is done. Her pain was not useful and therefore it must be ignored, the memory forgotten, and the work left in her absence completed in all due haste. And what is there to mourn, when she only died for a short while?]

She is a child with too much power. I suppose it should have been anticipated.

[It's not the first time Maketh has encountered such a person. The Jedi always recruited young. Sometimes even from birth, if the rumors are to be believed. The Empire followed their example more often than not.

She tips her head back.] I was trained on a blade like this.

[She indicates a sword with a heavy grip and a straight blade, double-edged. Light enough for quick actions, but strong enough to block a larger weapon if angled correctly.]

But I have damaged my shoulder and cannot bear the weight evenly. I need something I can use with one hand.

[barbarus]

[ Damen notes her resilience. She's been hit back, and yet she's moving on from it. She clearly doesn't want to dwell on the pain, and honestly, Damen can't blame her. It's how he would deal with it too, and as a result, he doesn't question her further. He understands the need to focus on the practical, and fortunately, he can help with this particular issue.

He reaches up, lifting a shorter, thinner, and more lightweight sword. It's the kind Damen wouldn't personally favour, but he knows plenty of men who are better with it. Men smaller than him, typically. ]

Something like this may work. In Akielos, we train with the short sword. Its use is well respected, and forms part of our sports as well as real combat. Try it.

[ He offers it to her with an encouraging nod. ]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh accepts the blade, turning it over in her hands curiously. It's smaller than what she's used to and lighter as well, likely unable to take the sort of punishment that her old one could. But it's well made, and feels good in her hands. She steps back and makes an experimental thrust. The blade moves with her arm easily enough.] Hmm. I believe this will do. Thank you, Damen.

[She'll have to practice with it, of course, to get used to the weight and smaller reach. Such is expected.]

Has someone taught you about fire arms yet?

[barbarus]

Not yet.

[ He remains unsure of them. They're interesting, but require ammunition to work, and that seems limited here. He's always gotten along well with his sword.

Still, he recognises an olive branch when one is offered. He nods at Maketh's sword. ]

I came to restock supplies. Training makes a better distraction. If you can show me how to fire a gun, I'll make you lethal with that blade.

[ Like he said, it's part of everyday training for his soldiers. The short sword is well known to all of them. ]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh quips a thin smile.] One day I shall tell you about the Academy I attended, and what they taught me of combat. One does not graduate so much as survive. A true education, you see. Even so, my swordsmanship is rusty. I relied too much on blasters.

[That ought to be corrected. She moves through a few experimental thrusts and blocks, shifting into stance - her mind strangely elsewhere for a moment, remembering the gleaming practice halls and the helmets that had hidden their eyes.

She shakes it away, lowering the blade. That memory has no place here. It serves no purpose.] But I do know firearms. Your terms are agreeable.

[barbarus]

I'm interested in this academy of yours.

[ It's not something Damen has ever known. He wasn't trained at any institution, but learned his swordplay at the palace, beneath the best trainers his country had to offer. He'd been watched by his father, by his brother, by Akielos' elite. ]

My training was personal, one on one. The same way I will learn with you now, and learn from you.

When would you like to begin?

[mismanagement]

Does your world not have academies to train their officers?

[Not all worlds do, of course - in many places it's still acceptable to learn under a single master, a sort of apprenticeship in the art of warfare. Maketh's mother had such an upbringing, as benefited a daughter of Mandalore.

She nods, belting the sword to her waist.] My shoulder is bothering me today, so perhaps another time for bladework. But I can show you a few things with a rifle now, if you wish. It's more forgiving on the body.