Event Log: Home Sweet Home

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Home Sweet Home event
Where: All over the city
When: June 20th-July 2nd
Warnings: Nothing bad could ever happen now that you're home

It could happen at any moment- any action you do could be cut short by a sudden trancelike state, and so hopefully it happens when you're safe in your surroundings. And of course you're safe... after all, what could happen to you now that you're finally home?

Whether you don't remember Hadriel at all, or you just believe that this entire ordeal is over, you're home for good now, which is something worth celebrating. What happens in your home? Are you treated like royalty or just cast aside and forgotten? How are your friends doing? Your family? Everything is just as it should be and it's easy to get lost in it, even for an unlucky onlooker who may find themselves drawn into your trance and able to interact with you as you mill about your world and your reality.

Snapping out of it is the only way to end this trance, and you've got to eat and sleep at some point, but how can you go back now that you've been teased with what you desire (or maybe even fear) the most?

► This log covers June 20th-July 2nd.
► 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 die of homesickness let us know here.

Comments

Ravine. | OTA

[whip_poor_will]

I. Hadriel;

What a lovely day it is today. Or, well, it's no more brimming with sunshine and daisies as it was the other day, but for Ravine it's all the same. No warmth, no cold, no trickle of water on her face or the breeze sweeping her hair. She can enjoy the scenery of the park all the same. Take in the sights and pretend that she can experience it like any living person would, sitting on a bench with her gloved hands folded over her lap, wind blowing but neither the fabric of her clothes nor threads of hair show any sign of movement. She doesn't even appear dampen from the light rainfall that day.

There is an air of calm about her, but also a sense that she isn't... quite... there. Almost as though she's see-through, a hint of the other side shown right through her. If not for that, it would almost appear as though she was asleep.

But it's never quite that simple, as something like unseen hands pulls you towards her, and to somewhere else...

II. Point Blank;

At a glance, this messy display of a two-story seedy bar is placed in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. La Mitad, a town that could barely be called a town, is more of a road between borders of what had once been California and Mexico.

Much like its namesake, La Mitad was a halfway point. It seems that at one point, the Ratón Borracho bar was inhabited by living people. Now, all you can hear are the off-key tunes playing from an old silver jukebox and inaudible conversation. Though the lights are dimmed, you can still make out movements of shadows shifting around the room like clockwork. A scent of cigarette smoke and burning fire.

Though she sits alone, just as she had at the Hadriel park bench, Ravine waits at a two-person table in the corner of the musty bar of bustling shadows. Despite the empty glass before her and her rather bored disposition, none of the shapes stop to refill what appears to be her drink. In fact, the glass is clean, devoid of any evidence that liquor had been filled and consumed.

While the shadows move about, it seems that no one else but you pays notice to the woman in that redwood bar chair, sitting idly with an elbow on the table and a finger tapping the surface. The unusual black coat over a corset of red belts further stands her out in that sweltering room, the air so hot your lungs almost burn. And yet Ravine sits, one red-gloved hand rested under her chin. A flash of gold in her eyes turn towards you before they shift to a soft brown.

It would seem she is not the only one who notices, as a couple shadows from the bar swivel their heads towards the dream's intruder. Their eyes aglow, their presence almost hostile.

[zen_en_vert]

Bruce glances around at the shadows, taking in the room, taking in Ravine and her blet and her gloves, bright in the dingy space. He steps in, carried by the momentum of the dream towards the bar, where he finds a second chair with an absent reach and pulls it out to take a seat.

It takes a second to shrug off the sense of scrutiny, and to clear his throat and ask her;

"Is- there a bartender around?"

[whip_poor_will]

Almost immediately Ravine recognizes Bruce as one of those things that don't belong. He isn't dead, however, and so he shouldn't be in this place, but...

Ah, yes. None of this is real. This is where she was simply headed before being summoned to Hadriel. A shame that she hasn't made her appointment here yet.

A gloved finger taps her cheek as she studies Bruce a moment.

"Yes, but you do not want what they have here. Not that they can see you."

Save for those two shades sitting at the bar counter with the glowing eyes, staring Bruce down with suspicion.

[zen_en_vert]

"Er- yeah. This is not my usual scene."

He says, giving the shade an apologetic little wince, before looking back up at Ravine.

He clicks his feet together where he's sitting, and tries;

"There's no place like home."

[whip_poor_will]

Ravine manages a small smile. "I can tell."

The shades regard Bruce with a peculiarity and confusion. He's clearly not supposed to be here, and so they don't quite know what to make of him. So they remain motionless, never blinking.

The gesture he makes at tapping his heels is enough to make her laugh.

"I am afraid you are not in Kansas anymore, Bruce! And Kansas has not existed for a very long time."

Worlds are different, of course, but this is a reflection of her own. The world that Bruce and many others would know is vastly changed.

[zen_en_vert]

"Where is this, then?"

He asks, leaning his elbows on the bartop and listening to Ravine, in that case.

"Some kind of odd future?"

If she remembers Dorothy, remembers Kansas.

[whip_poor_will]

Her eyes focus on the shades, already distracted staring intently at Bruce. "It is a future, yes. Not that time matters to anyone here."

Ravine does not make a point in fussing over the details so much. Everyone comes from different universes, and as such do not have to face a future leading to this misery.

"This would be La Mitad, the seat between the Cercado Province and the Mejian wilderness, although it used to be known as Mexicali. You will not find much of that left, however."