july catch-all | we came by the rising of the river

[upshore]

Who: Miles Upshur, Kitty Callahan, Alex Conklin, and YOU!
What: Rin's Stable of Blorbos getting up to no good
When: Throughout July
Where: Around the island
Warning(s): PTSD, religious trauma, existential questions, discussion of cult murder/death. You know. The usual.

A. on a river with no name, in the summer monsoon rain | Miles | Town Hall/The Library | OTA
Miles has just kind of resigned himself to being a single dad at this point. Lady, the Hattrem, hangs out around him, but basically does her own thing. Not that he blames her. Hell, he's getting better at dodging the braids when his head gets a little too loud for her liking. Negative emotional reinforcement, anyone?

This means that for Miles, every day is Take Your Kid To Work Day - which has resulted in him carrying Terry the Ralts around in what he's cheerfully calling a Child Sack, a half-swaddle, half-backpack. Maybe he's being a little too protective, but Terry doesn't seem to mind, and focusing on his newly-acquired Poké-Son is keeping him from mentally engaging with The Horrors.

He's in and out of Town Hall, in Cecil's office, working on newspaper stories, and poking into the library to do some research on the island. In particular, he wants to know more about that bonkers fucking cult. It's not unusual to see him with a stack of books in the library, taking studious notes, with Terry in the Child Sack napping at his feet.

B. to wash away luisa's bones from the ghost that guards her grave | Kitty | the Temple | OTA
The cult thing has definitely shaken Kitty up but good, and anyone who'd met the bubbly teenager last month might notice that she's gotten withdrawn and jumpy. In search of guidance - in search of anything - she's found herself wandering up to the Temple. It's probably a good idea to meet and greet the local deities, especially if the big nasty that she got killed for (shudder) is trying to destroy them. She wants to make it clear what side she's on. In fact, she's spending most of her time there, either getting up her nerves to talk to them, or getting up her nerves to talk to anyone else. She's got some Big Questions that she knows she might not like the answers to. She's often sitting to the side, out of the way, sketching the temple or scribbling away in her notebook. She might even overcome her trepidation a little and start towards anyone in the temple, offering a quiet "Hi."

C. she lays by the ride of firing anvils, in a house of cast-iron gates | Alex | Enforcer Offices | OTA
Oh, what fresh hell.

This whole cult nonsense had gotten a lot of people killed. Even though they came back due to the curse on the island, killing was still killing. And a cult? Jesus Christ. The closest he'd come to that in his sixty years of life was the Jackal and his fiercely loyal contingent of old men. Even then, the man calling himself Fontaine had had his limits. He wouldn't kill Marie or the kids. These cultists had no such qualms. They'd murdered everyone who'd shown up after getting that weird letter - the one that Alex had immediately stashed away as evidence for something while refusing to walk into an obvious trap.

Even though they'd all come back, it left him with a weird sort of survivor's guilt. He'd lived, and they hadn't. They'd made the brave, stupid choice to walk into the cult's jaws, and he'd stayed behind. Self-preservation, he thought. Cowardice, the back of his mind whispered to him. He countered that by telling himself that he hadn't survived as long as he had by making stupid decisions. Discretion being the better part of valor, and all that bullshit.

Guilt or dogged perseverance, or some combination of both, has had him furiously looking into everything he can. He's practically on the verge of making a Pepe Silvia board. Now this is familiar territory. It's oddly comforting. It reminds him of sitting in that little apartment in Vienna and hunting down the members of Medusa. Same general principle, he just can't make mysterious phone calls. That's fine. He'll figure something out.

Even if the cultists in the meeting are no longer around, there have to be some who've picked up the torch. And he's going to find out who.

D. and underneath red candles waits | Alex | Enforcer Offices | closed to CT
Cerrit had asked Alex to look after CT - or at least make sure she didn't get into any trouble she couldn't get out of. Well, that had been a bust, in that before he could do that, she'd gone and gotten herself killed by the cultists. Okay. Second time's the charm.

Next time he sees her, he walks up, holding a cup of tea. "Got a moment?"

for her killers to come home and for a fine revenge to pay | Wildcard!
[Hit me up on the discord server or on plurk at Chatvert, or just jump in! The squad will be around the island at large, so they're up for being encountered anywhere.]

Comments

A: Library

[redlightgreenlight]

The words from the festival games and the discovery of Linette still haunt her, so she's doing everything she can to find out more about the Leeds family, though she suspects that she won't get any information by going to the sole remaining Leeds family member. Which leads her to the library and town hall on multiple occasions trying to find information without arousing suspicion.

She's noticed that Miles person around, but has been purposefully staying out of his way, unable and unwilling to face the weird feeling in her chest when she sees him, but when she feels something grab her leg while sitting at a table in the library, she startles enough to scare the small green and white creature who rushes off to...Miles.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare him."

[upshore]

Miles pats Terry on the head before looking up. Oh, it's that Valdis lady who'd saved his ass on his first day. He raises a hand, waving it at her in greeting.

"He's fine, just skittish. Huh, Terry?"

"Ralts." He tugs at Miles' pant leg.

"Good to see you," Miles says to Valdis, smiling a little. "Doing some research?"

[redlightgreenlight]

There's something really soft about watching this traumatized man reassure his pet. Her heart skips when he says it's nice to see her, but she still has no idea why.

"Yes, just a little project, nothing I feel is ready for my boss or peers."

Subject change.

"I've seen you around researching too, anything interesting?"

[upshore]

Miles notices her redirecting the conversation from herself, and against every instinct, decides not to pry. Not yet, anyway.

"Depends," he says, Terry climbing into his lap. "Is 'getting ritually murdered by cultists' interesting?" There's a crooked smile on his face; he's making a joke out of the trauma. It's EMT humor, soldier humor, been-through-it-all-and-come-out-the-other-side humor. It's also probably an indication that he needs a therapist.

If Lady were here, she'd whack him with one of her braids hard enough to bruise. Terry just pats his arm. Psychic-types just know, sometimes.

B

[graveling]

The new priest meanders over quietly, in his brown robe and green stole. Very quietly. Wow, is he even blinking? Or breathing?

(No.)

"Balls, I don't really have the proper script for this. But I'll try anyway. You look troubled, sister."

Maybe Degas or Mulcahy would be better at this, but River taught him something: if you look at a situation and think somebody ought to do something, congrats, you're now somebody.

[thaumatophage]

The casual mien of the priest is enough to put her at ease. She's not normally shy, but she's pretty rattled lately.

"Troubled's a word for it," she says. "Freaked out, too. You know anything about those guys in red with the masks talking about the 'vile divine' or whatever?"

[graveling]

"Oh, the fuckers with the Necronomicon. Yeah, I heard of them. Nasty-ass shit, right?" Very proper priesting going on here from Angel, it seems. Also perhaps a piece of information Kitty wasn't privy to before.

[thaumatophage]

"The Necronomicon? No way." Kitty's eyes widen. She's culturally aware enough of her own world to recognize it. That, and she's pretty sure it's in the Triskele's archives somewhere, if it were real. It wouldn't surprise her. It doesn't really surprise her that it's real here, now that she thinks about it. But it's going to make things heaps more complicated.

"Anyway, ah. I followed the instructions in that letter, and then I got--" She mimes getting stabbed. She's trying to make a joke out of it, a bad habit she's picked up from Alec.

A

[spaghettification]

One of the library staff is there often when Miles is, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his sixties with eyes that were once the color of steel and now lean more misty and occasionally confused. He has a few quirks that might make him memorable to a patron. Like the fact that he never wears shoes or socks, and he's usually seen floating about six inches above the floor.

As you do.

He's made a habit of not asking what Miles is doing. But once he understands what's going on, he quietly sets a collection of news articles on the table, helpfully in passing.

Re: A

[upshore]

"...thanks," Miles says next time Siebren wanders by. "For the articles."

He looks up at the floating man. They'd met at the 'speed dating' event. "Siebren, right?"

[spaghettification]

"Yes, that's me. And you're Miles." He gives a polite little nod and a hint of a smile. "Or Kim Downrive, perhaps? Kim for kilometers, I take it?"

He's European, the reference to the metric system hadn't flown over his head.

[upshore]

Miles snickers. "Glad someone got the joke." It's the little things that make The Horrors™ more tolerable.

"That was a whole shitshow."

C-adjacent

[lasthumanvoice]

At some point Alex is in town hall for paperwork, when a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed freckly redhead bustles up to him with a notepad and a manic gleam in his eyes.

"Can I get a comment?"

[saintoflangley]

"Certainly," says Alex, collecting the paperwork he'd come to fetch and giving Cecil enough of a glance to glean that he's out for a scoop. "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain."

Little shit.

[lasthumanvoice]

"No one local has even heard of Spain. Can you at least rhyme with Anwyll or Braxtony?"

His disappointment is wholly theatrical.

[saintoflangley]

"All right:
'There once was a man from Anwyll,
Possessed of a power of will,
When bugged by reporters,
He offered no quarter;
His secrets were not his to spill.'"

Alex leans forward, putting his weight on his cane. "Though I doubt you're here for my dreadful attempts at doggerel."

Library

[maximumcake]

Max is on the hunt today for some very important, to him, information as well. He's trying to find any baking books that contain something similar to macarons. Try as he might, he just hasn't come up with a good substitute for almond flour. He's tried subbing in things like oat or flaxseed but the texture just isn't right and the cooking times don't align. So, he's taking a new approach.

"There has to be something in one of these, right Crumpet?" Max says to his fidough as they walk out of the shelves. He's carrying so many books in his arms that he isn't really able to see where he's going. This leads to him accidentally knocking into Mile's table.

"Ope, crap, sorry!" Max peeks out from around his stack of books, looking Mile's up and down to make sure he didn't do any damage. "You okay?"

[upshore]

"Whoa!" At least Miles doesn't have a drink, because it would have spilled all over everything and he would have been cross. Thankfully he knows better than to bring liquid into a library if it's not securely closed. (You ruin one book and your college friends never let you forget it...)

They have Thermoses here, right? He should probably invest in one.

"I'm good, man," he says, standing up and picking one of the books that fell off of the ground. "You, uh...you need some help with those?"

[maximumcake]

"I could use some, yeah. Actually, would it be okay if I set them down here for a second?" He's asking but at the same time he already is setting the stack down on the table. The better to offer his hand out to make introductions.

"Hi there. I'm Max Maximum. I don't think I know your name yet?"

and underneath red candles waits

[liesdontfindyou]

CT really wasted no time at all in throwing herself back into work, after her resurrection. Call it a strong work ethic. (Or, perhaps more accurately, call it a coping mechanism. Or both—both is probably true.)

She eyes Alex for a moment before answering, simply: "I guess I do."

[saintoflangley]

Hey, Alex can't judge. He'd be doing that, too.

"Walk with me," he says, gesturing back in the general direction of the office he'd taken over. "I'm used to a good walk-and-talk when the subject isn't need-to-know. Saves time."

[liesdontfindyou]

"That makes two of us." Schedules on the Mother of Invention were jam packed, you learned to be efficient about how you spent your time. So, she follows easily. "So. It's not need-to-know. But what is it you want to talk about?"

Time to Talk

[maltesefalcon]

Surprise Alex, there's a whole-ass birdman leaning on the doorframe of the office on his day off, giving one of those avian looks that takes a while to learn how to interpret. Thoughtful, perhaps. Or weighing. Or predatory? Maybe that's just because he's very aquiline.

Either way, he's waiting to be noticed and acknowledged.

[saintoflangley]

Alex looks up from his work when he hears someone at the door. Welp, that sure is a birdman.

"Cerrit," he says, getting to his feet, leaning against his cane.

[maltesefalcon]

"You haven't had lunch yet, right? I'm buying." Mostly because the conversation he wants to have, he's unwilling to have at the station. As much because it just feels wrong as anything related to fear of eavesdroppers. There's a tension in his posture that those who don't know him at all might not be able to read. It's in how his wings are pulled in against his back, mostly.