hadriel_logs | EVENT LOG: RED SNOW

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: RED SNOW

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Red Snow event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 14th-18th
Warnings: Yeti. White Walkers. Probable injuries, possible death, definite cold toes.

On the morning of December 14th, a light dusting of snow begins to fall from clouds clustered along the ceiling of the cave. It's lovely and seasonal - for a couple hours. Then it begins falling faster, and the temperature of the cave drops as well. The snow sticks, the footpaths and roads start freezing over, and everything gets a little bit more dangerous. By the evening of the 14th, it's hard to see farther than a foot or two thanks to the thickness of the falling snow. An icy wind that'll cut right through you stirs it up even more, and drifts of snow obscure landmarks, making it even more difficult to find your way around. Hopefully you headed home earlier, or you're going to have a hard time of it!

And if you did head home? Well, there's no heating. Maybe you've got magic that'll help, or something to burn, or a friend or two to cuddle with. Or you might brave the storm and venture out to the shops, where you can find the usual assortment of clothing and bedding - and some extra supplies, thick jackets and hats and gloves. If you get there fast enough, there might even be a few left.

But watch your back - roaming the streets under cover of the blowing snow are yeti and White Walkers, who will be more than happy to tear you apart and nibble on your bones or kill you and bring you back as a mindless wight. So have fun with that! If you avoid being killed by yeti claws or White Walker swords or hypothermia, the blizzard will cease on December 18th. Santa does not appear to have come this year. Sorry!

► This log covers December 14th-18th.
► 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They're about like this. Kill you if you're out in them overnight, but not quick. Not like some places."

Which are instantly, universally fatal.

"Where are you from?"

"Chicago." It's the only city that ever felt like home to her. She pulls down the edges of the sweater sleeves, checking to make sure they're long enough (they are). "We're usually smart enough there to not get caught out in a blizzard overnight."

"Earth."

He says, with a little relief, lowering his hands and looking up at her. It shouldn't make a difference, but it certainly does.

"It's not everyone."

Nick stops shuffling through the rest of the clothes on the table long enough to give him a wary eye. "You're sayin' there's aliens among us?" She hasn't met many of the other people held captive here, but those she has met at least seemed human.

Then again, Nick herself is proof that seeming human doesn't necessarily make it so.

Of course, it's equally likely this guy could just be a complete wacko, too.

"Aliens, and elves, and demons."

He agrees, with a little nod.

"Like the monsters, but more coherent, ready to talk to you. Elves aren't so bad, but- not everyone calls their planet Earth. Best get used to that."

Her entire body goes tense at that word. Monsters. It's a loaded word, and it conjures up memories of a vague something following behind her, and of the moment when that something became a thing that was no longer vague.

And of the moment when Nick herself Became, too.

"No shit, huh." She inhales a shaky breath and turns her attention back to sorting through what's in front of her on the table, circling around to her right to start picking through a fresh pile.

Edited 2015-12-19 03:26 (UTC)

"It's a complicated, dangerous world."

He says, in his quiet, declaratory way, as though there's something to be gained by saying it out loud, just the once.

And;

"Didn't your world have anything weird in it?"

"Didn't used to."

Up until quite recently, Nick's world was completely mundane - boring, even, by some standards. (Kennedy's standards.) Nick gives that thought a violent shove back into the dark recesses of her mind.

"Why? Was that normal, up in New York? Weird shit like elves and aliens?"

"I think that everyone's normal is so normal to them that they wouldn't know what is weird."

As he considers it.

"We have the Chechen mob. They're ugly, but I think they're from real life."

"Yeah, they got the mob all over." She's not close with anyone with mob ties, but - it's a thing, it's well-known. Chicago has its own mob history, only Italian, not Chechen. But, Nick supposes, there's probably not much difference. Organized crime is organized crime.

Nick holds up another dark-colored sweater, navy blue this time, roughly the same size as the last one she pulled on. She squints, gauging whether it will fit, and she decides it will, so she pulls it over her head.

"I dunno, elves and shit sounds pretty weird. That's like, nerd movie level weird."

"Yes." Says Bob, and again, with a sigh; "Yes, it is."

Movie level weird. Horror movie weird.

"And the food's like that. Nothing you've seen on Earth. Behaves a little like it, but none of it right."

"Nothing about this place is right. I mean, did you happen to notice we're underground? How the fuck is it snowing underground?" She sighs loudly and tosses an errant handful of clothing down onto the table in front of her. "I don't think I can use any more of this."

Edited 2015-12-23 00:37 (UTC)

"Where we're breathing. Where there's daylight. And cell reception."

It's funny how the second one is more telling than the first for Bob; oxygen is particular, unusual, kind of unkowable and easy to be taken for granted. Cellphones don't even work in tight city streets with high buildings, never mind in caves.]

"Cigarettes would be nice, too." She's out, and the lack of nicotine is starting to eat at her already-frayed nerves. The lack of daylight doesn't bother her as much, since she's a night owl, but she's been a smoker for the better part of the last decade, and having to suddenly go without is the most daunting aspect of this entire bizarre situation.

"You got a name?"

"Bob Saginowski."

He says, and then even though she'd just asked for a name, because he feels like he needs to give more context for himself.

"Bob Saginowski, from Cousin Marv's- the bar. I'm a bartender. Back in Brooklyn. I don't think I'm really meant to be here, I just tend the bar."

For the first time since he entered the shop, Nick actually relaxes and smiles. Magic words.

"No shit? I'm a bartender too - or I was, back in Chicago. Little hole in the wall called Diego's." Odd, how that one common thread is enough to make a difference in Nick's entire attitude. Bartenders and baristas, they're her people, and there's solidarity to be found.

"I'm Nick, by the way. Nick Rivenna." Not that it will mean anything to him, but he gave her his full name, so it seems right to return it.

"It is nice to meet you."

Says Bob, politely, and looking down, he adds;

"You should meet my dog. Rocco, he isn't here, but he is-"

Indicating, a vague dog-shape.

"-back at the towers."

"Yeah, you too." He's a weird one, isn't he. But he seems harmless enough. After all, he seemed more scared of Nick when he first walked in the shop than she was of him. It's been a while since she's had anyone react to her like that.

"What kinda dog? Did he come with you from New York, or did you find him here?"

"He's a pitbull. He was from home. We found him in a garbage can, with a knot on his head like a goose egg. But he's doin' good, doin' good as can be, when it's been as rough as it has been for him. He got pretty scared in the colosseum, but-"

But he shrugs.

"-he still doesn't bite people, and I don't know if I could say the same for myself, if I were that dog."

"Really?" She raises an eyebrow. "I thought pitbulls were supposed to be mean fuckers, attack dogs." She's not a dog person in general, and she's definitely no expert.

The colosseum, though. She shakes her head. "That place was fucked up. I mean, this whole place is, but that place specifically. What a way to wake up."

"Only if they're raised that way."

He says, with a shake of his head.

"Not Rocco. Although yeah, that place tried hard to change that. It was-"

"Fucked. Up."

She really can't stress that enough.

"So your dog's not raised mean. That's good to know." She's not the world's best judge of character, but she thinks that probably means he's not a psycho, or an asshole, or a creep, if he cares about a dog and doesn't make it mean on purpose. "You need a sweater for the dog too? I think there's some small ones in that pile there." She points to an untidy stack of clothing on the end of the table.

"Oh."

Says Bob, just shy of 'oh no,' imagining poor Rocco in dog clothes, which he sort of universally scorns- but then again, it is so damn cold lately that he goes to look anyways, to see if there's something he might cut paw holes into for him.

"We're all gonna be in trouble when the whole place is full and well looted."

"Well, hey, look on the bright side. We could all just freeze to death first." Nick's never been an optimist. She sighs loudly and picks up her coat from the floor, pulling it back on over the layered sweaters. There's a black scarf nearby on a shelf that she picks up and quickly winds around her neck. "I mean, there's no way of telling how long this is gonna go on, right? Not like we've got the Weather Channel down here."

"I'd say prepare for the worst, but I think even if we prepared as much as we possibly could right now we still might not make it through the best."

He admits, contemplatively, folding up his loot, before giving her a serious look.

"Good luck, though. I'll- I'll see you."

(no subject)

bekommen - 2016-01-08 02:37 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only