World Log: Tundra Arrival

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters in the city
What: The log for the city's arrivel on the ice planet
Where: All around the city
When: November 21st-November 30th
Warnings: None

You all get some warning to prepare, which is great. A little time to stock up on supplies, make sure everything's where it supposed to be, call your friends in from their fishing boats. And then the city moves. It happens in the blink of an eye - one moment you're on islands, surrounded by ocean, and the next? The next you're surrounded by frozen ground, the temperature has dropped significantly, and even the sky looks different. The air has a bite to it, that familiar feeling telling you it's thinking about snowing soon. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon.

The city has rearranged itself back into that old, familiar shape, instead of spread out across islands like it was a moment ago. Maybe that'll make things easier for you, maybe it won't, but it also means the return of the lake and river that used to bisect the city - only now they're frozen over. This climate also means it'll be hard for any plants not otherwise protected to survive - and that you, too, will start feeling that cold if you're away from a warm place for too long.

And warm places might be in short supply, because when the city moved the gods did not. What does that mean for you? Well, whatever supplies are in the shops at the moment the city moves are the only ones left. No new food supplies, no new clothing, nothing. In addition, the power across the whole city is out, including water and heating. Anything else powered or supplied by gods (the hot springs, the mopeds, what's left of the orchard, the armory, the GPS) will not work.

You're on your own. Try not to die.

► This log covers November 21st-30th.
► 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 freeze to death, starve to death, are eaten by the local animals, fall through the ice, or find some other exciting way to die, please let us know here, and be aware resurrection will not be currently happening. You stay dead - for now.

Comments

[fogsong]

[ Star Trek, huh? Sharon smiles to herself, small and personal, and then it's gone, expression at ease. It kind of is like Star Trek. That's the one with doomed red shirts, she remembers that, and something about earl grey tea but she never got into it. ]

...Yeah, we kind of get to experience all sorts of shit that would have been impossible back home, huh? [ Rhetorical, really. Does that mean she should feel a sense of gratefulness towards the gods? The Door? No. She rubs her hands together briskly. ]

I bet eclipses here are unreal. [ She can only just imagine. Chilly but clearly in a bright mood, she faces George. ] Hey, you think if you ever come across paint in the shops you could grab it for me? I could turn this into something that'd look great on your wall.

[ If life had been normal, maybe she would have become an artist. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

[George was into it. she's a total nerd. probably why she's never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend]

Yeah, no kidding. I guess that's--something? [what it is, she's not entirely sure what. she feels like she's grown up a lot in Hadriel, not that she's sending the stupid gods a thank-you note]

Maybe we'll get to see one? [when Sharon turns to face her, she smiles] I'll do that. I've seen your art and murals, you've got a real gift for it.

[George has no idea what she would've been. she had no direction and was spinning her wheels right before she died]

[fogsong]

Maybe. [ She agrees, not even considering that this planet may have strange cycles in comparison to what she knows. The compliment makes her rosy cheeks rosier, ears warming. If she'd been younger, she'd have brushed off the compliment, certain the other girl was saying it for some nefarious reason, but now she takes it with appreciation. ]

Thanks. It's a good outlet for me and, I mean, it's not like I have much better to do. [ Back home or here, if she's honest. ] You got any artistic talent in you?

[ George seems the type to have a hidden talent or two. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

It would be pretty cool. [it's going to take a while to figure out the cycles and rhythms of this place. and that blush is adorable. it's not fair. because it makes her blush in return and now they're both blushing and now what? say something? prrrrrobably not the right time. she'll know it when she sees it. or she'll make an idiot of herself, even odds]

Yeah, this place is woefully short on fun options. Why d'you think I spend so much time at the Speakeasy? [because people watching is at least something to do] I can write, a little? Nothing big like a novel, but little short stories.

[which she shows to no one]

[fogsong]

[ George's cheeks seem pink and Sharon wonders if she's getting cold. ]

Because you're an alcoholic? [ She's just joking, the left side of her lips lifting in a smirk. That's not a funny joke, Sharon, people here have some serious problems. ]

Wait, really? Have you written anything here? [ Because Sharon would be happy to take a peek. ] I don't know if you've noticed but we're lacking in the books department. [ That's definitely not a talent Sharon has; she loves to read but she can't write for shit. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

[she wishes that's all it was.

with a good-natured eye roll] No. It's the people watching. I like to watch people.

I've--just some short stuff. [augh, panic! panic at the idea of Sharon reading her stuff! because it's all about thinly veiled Hadriel residents and panic!] Actually, I have three, if you wanna borrow one of 'em. [George's little short stories and vignettes aren't bad. a little stream-of-consciousness, but not bad]

[fogsong]

Creeper. [ She says it with such a grin, clearly poking a little fun at George. It was actually a kind of cute hobby to have.

Her eyes light up at the younger girl's offer. ] You sure that woudn't make you feel weird? I'd actually love to read anything you've written and I could maybe pay you back with some personal art or something?

[ She doesn't want George to feel backed into a corner or that she has to let Sharon see her works. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

Always have been, always will be. [she grins broadly right back.

...okay, exposing her writing to others is worth it as long as it puts that look in Sharon's eyes] No, no, it's cool. I don't mind. And you wouldn't have to pay me back if you didn't want to.

[she'd do just about anything to get that expression again. so we're cool]

[fogsong]

And if I wanted to? [ She would regardless of George's own feelings on the matter. ] What could I paint for you?

[toiletseat_girl]

Okay. Well, if you wanted to? [she considers for a moment] Something beautiful. I trust you.

[fogsong]

I can do beautiful. [ She's already coming up with a variety of plans in her head, colors and style; maybe something bright to give her something positive to look at when shit is awful. It would have to be special. ]

Do you have any favorite things in nature? Flowers? Trees?

[toiletseat_girl]

[something to help her keep positive would be awesome. she has a hard time with it, though she's getting a little better] Flowers. Any kind of flower. Roses, lilies, irises. Anything. Any colors.

[fogsong]

[ She's already developing an image in her head, flowers the color of the aurora far above them. It was going to be a bitch to get the proper paint but she'll put in a little more work for George than she would many others. ]

I can do that. You're lucky flowers are one of my favorite things to paint. It's like, I don't know, I've never really forgotten my favorite ones.

[toiletseat_girl]

[she's really going to appreciate the effort. while she keeps her mouth shut about her feelings. she's such a coward, but better that than fuck up such an important friendship]

Really? I didn't know that. Good thing that's what I asked for. Which ones are your favorites?

[fogsong]

Roses. [ God, that sounds ridiculously cliche, doesn't it? She realizes this and then raises one hand, shaking it as if to waive off George's possible inner assumptions. ] My mom's name was Rose and its always reminded me of her: beautiful but dangerous when necessary.

[ Even after being stabbed in the chest, she still rose up to save her daughter. There can be no better flower. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

Mine, too. [it's cool, they'll be cliched together] That's a good reason to have them as a favorite. I've always just--thought they were beautiful. The way they look, the way they smell. And the thorns. Makes 'em kind of badass.

[she couldn't imagine her mother doing the same thing. of course, George's life had been ridiculously middle class suburban]

[fogsong]

My mom, she never really kept them around the house. I think growing up named Rose kind of tarnished the flower for her. I remember she had this awful quilt made by my grandmother—it was just covered in those tacky embroidered roses. She loved it, somehow, even though it definitely smelled like it belonged to a dead old person.

[ This feels nice, sharing this tiny, unimportant moment in the nippy quiet. She can remember the scent distantly. Moth balls and something sweet, like an old liquor with honey. It wasn't awful but it was far from entirely pleasant. ]

I can't promise it'll be made soon while we're still adjusting to... whatever this is, but I'll get something beautiful to you. [ Maybe a sky of roses in the shades of the aurora they were witnessing now. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

Yeah, I can see how that would happen. Dates with no imagination would always be giving you roses, your English teacher would bug you with that quote about roses from "Romeo & Juliet," and you'd be expected to have rose-patterned everything. But it's different when it's something made by your mom, even if it did smell like a dead old person.

[at least, she'd imagine it would be. Joy Lass was never the arts & crafts type and her Grandma Phyl would flit from interest to interest without ever following through on any of them. but this moment, it all seems even further away than before]

It's cool. It--well, it means a lot that you're willing to do it. I've seen your art before, it's amazing. [that would be so cool]

[fogsong]

[ George got it right on the nose. Sharon wonders for a brief moment if Alessa's mother, Dahlia had the same issue.

She flushes at the compliment and rubs at the back of her neck. She wouldn't call it amazing but it felt good that someone out there thought so. ]

Thanks. You got to pick up a habit here, right? [ Though, she's been into art since childhood. She used to draw her nightmares and sometimes, sometimes something else would take over and draw worse things—dark monsters and twisted holes. It doesn't happen anymore.

She gives George a brief look over. ]

You're not too cold, are you?

[toiletseat_girl]

[she figured as much. and Dahlia likely did, only with that name would come the association of the famous Black Dahlia murder case. and subsequent creepers.

she just grins 'cause she does call it amazing and means it. and she snorts a laugh] No kidding. Something to do for the times when the stupid fucking gods aren't fucking with our heads. [George has been into books. books and writing. anything solitary where she could hide in a corner and do it. her father turned her on to Shakespeare at a young age and by age eight, she'd already read all of his plays and sonnets.

she'd blush, if she felt that the blood would rise in her cheeks. but right now, she's experimenting with a theory. that theory being that a Reaper's body would eventually settle on whatever the local temperature is]

Nah, I'm fine. You?

[fogsong]

[ Sharon grew up with her nose in books, too. For her, it was a necessity—her only escape from the constant stress of being on the run. Art and books. It must be a loner thing. Or a loner-nerd thing. ]

Eh, I'm starting to lose feeling in my nose and fingertips but I kind of don't want to go in just to sit in a cold apartment. Out here, it's cold but it's nice; pretty and new. [ And not dark and boring. No power, no running water, nothing. ]

[toiletseat_girl]

[both. let's go with both. no wonder why they get along so well, despite having such radically different childhoods in other ways]

Out here is way better than in there. Out here, we have the lights and the stars to look at. Inside we have walls. Blank, dark walls. And that is fucking boring.

[fogsong]

[ Outcasts are always drawn to one another. ]

It makes me wish we had houses or huts with just... huge skylights and fireplaces, a couple of fireplaces. [ She rubs her hands together, sniffling a little. The cold wasn't so bad, really. It could be way worse. They could be dealing with blizzards, ]

[toiletseat_girl]

[they are. it's kind of sweet in its oddball way]

Fuck, those houses would be so much better than what we have. What we have looks like the alien equivalent of suburbia. I keep expecting a Starbucks and a Gap to pop up out of nowhere.

[fogsong]

[ Sharon flinches at the very idea. ]

I don't want to see what the menu at alien Starbucks looks like and I definitely don't want to see how they misspell my name.