Event log: Buried Alive

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Buried Alive event!
Where: All around the city
When: January 16th-January 19th
Warnings: Claustrophobia, starvation, premature burials, all that fun stuff.

On the morning of January 16th, half of the game's characters wake up to find that they are not where they were when they fell asleep. Instead, they're surrounded by a claustrophobic darkness, cheap satin cushioning, and an intense feeling of weight directly above them. Unfortunately, all of this adds up to the fact that your character has been buried alive.

Luckily, they'll have their phones, which can function as a source of light, communication, and hopeful distraction. They'll be able to talk to the other folks who are buried around the city, as well as their would-be rescuers. Thanks to Hope's timely post on the network, the rescuers know where everyone is, even if they're not sure who is buried where.

This is where organization, planning, and a little bit of luck come in! The aboveground characters will be supplied with shovels via the armory and are encouraged to go dig up their buried friends. Dig quickly though, because the air supply is pretty thin, and by the morning on January 19th, the characters who are not yet dug up will find that oxygen deprivation is a rather unfortunate way to die.

So, grab your communicator, grab your shovel, and get to work!

► This log covers January 16th-January 19th.
► 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!
► Please remember to report any deaths to the Death page!

Comments

january 18 BECAUSE I AM A REBEL

[smited]

[ he hears it, when they start getting close. the dirt shifts above him and he can hear pup's barking (maker bless mabari, they always know, somehow, just how to support their partners) and for the first time since he woke up in the coffin, cullen feels something like hope. it won't really help, he knows, but he can't help but claw at the lid once he realizes that he's going to get out. he needs to do something. this cramped prison suddenly feels so much smaller than it has the past few days and he needs to be out of it more than ever.

when the lid is lifted, he gasps like he can't get enough air in his lungs. he moves for the first time in days and even though his weak muscles protest, he clambers his way out of the grave to kneel on the ground, forehead pressed to the grass. perhaps it's a little strange for him to be curling into himself now that he's out in the open again, but his breath is still coming quick and his heart is pounding and he's shaking even as a few tears of relief escape down his cheeks.

pup whines and licks at cullen's face, smearing the tears and dried blood there. (his hands are a mess. he doesn't want to know how many fingernails he's missing or how much wood is stuck under them. he doesn't want to know how many times he bit his lips until he tasted copper.) cullen trembles and laughs breathlessly. perhaps a little hysterically. ]

Andraste's blistered ankles... [ he sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment, trying to get himself under control again. he does. sort of. slumping onto his side, still shocky and shaking, he looks towards cecily. ] I will be glad to leave this place when the time comes.

[ that is the understatement of the century. ]

[closerift]

[ This is it. She knows, somehow, when Pup begins to be more frantic and invigorated and she'd almost collapsed onto the grass and screamed out of frustration with it all. This is the third day of digging and she isn't sure how long the buried can survive in their caskets, if there's any chance at all that she will unearth Cullen now and find him anything but a cold corpse. A man who was promised rescue and who was lied to to the cruelest end.

The idea has her nearly manic and she stabs into the ground again and again with the shovel's point, freely bleeding through her bandages, tears stinging at her eyes. Don't do this to me, if You can hear me, then see him through this. And then, a disturbing thought: maybe He can't hear us in this place.

Then again, maybe the Maker is with them, after all. Pup scratches the top of a wooden container with a telltale sound and she realizes they've done it and have reached the coffin, his coffin. Cecily scrambles down into the hole she's dug and practically wrenches the lid from its attachments.

It opens, her breath catches. He gasps.

Relieved beyond measure, the Inquisitor helps him to the grass, shaking with all the physical exertion and mental expenditure. He's alive. For a moment, she just watches him, takes in his face (as much as she can see, around Pup's affections), his hands, his clothes. Cullen falls to his side and she moves closer, but slowly, as if trying not to frighten a wounded animal. Cecily gingerly lays down beside him, face to face, and raises a hand to gently trace the lines that his tears had cut through the grime.

Suddenly, she feels as if she could sleep there, on the ground, for years. ]

You didn't leave a note. [ She breathes, voice wavering dangerously. ]

[smited]

[ he laughs wetly and tilts his head to press a kiss to cecily's palm. it's a strange sort of feeling that's overtaken him now. relief mingles with the fading terror, all of it colored by how much he loves this woman who has fought and bled to free him from his cage. cullen can't do much--hunger, dehydration, and a lack of movement have left him weak--but he does shuffle a little closer and curls around cecily, resting his forehead on her collar bone. ]

Thank you. [ for working so hard. for not giving up on him. for not judging the way he's still not breathing quite evenly or the way he's still a little overwhelmed and tearful. ] That is not nearly enough, but--thank you.

[ at some point, they should probably move. but for now, cullen is more than content to lay in the grass next to cecily, pup at his head and open air at his back. it's the first time in days he's felt even remotely safe. ]

[closerift]

[ He needs help, still. He has air and space but it's been days since he's had food or water. Though she could stay at his side in the grass for hours, just relishing in the fact that they'd managed to find him in time, it isn't an option at the moment.

Maybe later, once they were both in home and all the others had been saved. ]

Here. [ Gently, she pulls herself upward into a seated position, one hand gingerly stroking his hair and the other reaching into the pouch that's been lying, discarded, on the ground. Cecily retrieves a bottle of water and offers it to him, quickly adding: ] A little at a time. But you do need to drink.

[ Baby steps. Pup seems the most excited and happy of the three of them, stump tail wagging hard enough that it could break off and go flying into the air. ]

I might not have made it to you without him. [ She can't help but smile wearily at the animal. ] Your hound is a hero.

[smited]

[ he gives pup and cecily both a wan smile as he takes the water. he's weak enough that he doesn't try to sit up to drink, just carefully takes a small sip and ignores the little bit of water that dribbles down his chin. ]

I feel like I could drink the entire Amaranthine Ocean right now.

[ which would be a terrible idea not only because it's sea water. cullen knows that. but making little comments and pretending like he hasn't been out of his mind for maker only knows how long is helping him keep it together now that he's above ground again.

pup nudges the side of his head, and cullen lets his eyes fall closed as he reaches up to scritch the dog's ears. ]

It's really over.

[ it's hard to believe. ]

[closerift]

Not so good of an idea.

[ She knows what he means, but can't help but let out the relieved sort of levity she feels. Not when he's alive and safe and Andraste, thank you.

He takes the water and she sees his hands, his fingers and nails, and it sends pangs of guilt and sadness coursing fresh through her. ]

It's really over. [ Carefully, she leans forward to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. ] You're safe.

[ And, if she has her way, nothing like that will ever happen to him, or her, or the others again. ]

Thom was buried, too. [ Along with dozens of others. ] I haven't heard of a one who wasn't rescued, though. Somehow, we managed it.

[ An exercise of cooperation that should be admired by any given disorganized, ragtag band of hostages.

Letting herself be swept up in spontaneity, she leans down to kiss him again, grateful for the sensation and contact, the little physical reassurance, however small. ]