ph_logs | Historical Society

Historical Society

Point of Contact: Dahlia Leeds
Meeting Spaces: Leeds Manor, Greymare Public Library

About.

Run by wealthy socialite and scholar Dahlia Leeds, the Pumpkin Hollow Historical society seeks to ensure the town's future by understanding its past. With frequent meetings to discuss useful and intriguing historical findings and exclusive access to Dahlia's archive, this is the place to be for inquisitive minds. A secular group, the Historical Society also maintains a respectful and neutral relationship with the church.

You can find fliers related to meetings on the bulletin boards located around the Greymare Public Library, a surprisingly austere stone building not far from town hall. A stroll past the bubbling decorative fountain and carefully-shaped topiaries will reveal said board hanging from the wall just beside the door. Look for the stamp of a death's head hawkmoth and you'll be sure to find a helpful advertisement indicating their robust meeting schedule.

Use this post to RP threads that take place at or in relation to the Pumpkin Hollow Historical Society! More details on the organization and its workings can be found under the drop-downs.

Membership.

Joining. You'll have to work very hard to convince the other members of the group you are trustworthy and not just here to mooch off of Dahlia or steal secrets for someone else's gain, and missing gatherings or questioning Dahlia's decisions are strictly prohibited.

Benefits. Dahlia's wealth and influence can be used to increase your financial stability, resources, and occasionally call in a favor to get out of a sticky situation. Dahlia's got your back! Additionally, you'll have access to more information.

Drawbacks. Members of this group die much more frequently under mysterious circumstances. They may also feel some impact from Dahlia's ongoing feud with Ocularum leader Neil West.

Philosophy.

The mistakes of the past are doomed to be repeated if they are forgotten. The Historical Society prides itself on researching, analyzing, and sharing the history of the town and surrounding island for the benefit of its modern residents. This includes and even prioritizes trying to understand the start of the island's curse. It is the hope of the Historical Society that discovering the origin of the curse will lead to uncovering the method by which it can become undone. In the meantime, their useful research on monsters and spirits is used to help locals combat the frequent paranormal problems they experience.

The Historical Society is decidedly secular, welcoming members regardless of religious beliefs. They do not require any sacrifices, offerings, or devotional acts--- only a dedication to learning and research. The one stipulation is that Dahlia maintains a fairly rigorous meeting schedule.

CODE BY MARWOOD

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"...hello?"

Ianto can't help it: he's a tad uncomfortable. This...it's not like shoehorning his way into Torchwood Three. It felt more like every other job he'd ever had: the coffee shop, the Cardiff Museum, even his bloody hire at Canary Wharf.

God, what he wouldn't give for a proper suit. As it stands, he's used half his stipend on a simple, but at least slightly more professional looking suit of clothes in new shoes, trousers, a simple Oxford-adjacent shirt and a plain, but not terribly ill-fitting waistcoat.

So, barely dressed for the job he wants, hopeful but realistic, Ianto sticks his head into the door of the Greymare Public Library, where he was hoping to find the woman in charge, and after looking around with some interest, approaches someone who looks like they might be able to point him in the right direction.

It's not Torchwood--but bloody hell does it make him homesick as all get out. And Ianto could almost laugh at the very idea of being homesick for Cardiff if he wasn't quite possibly dead back home...if Jack wasn't quite possibly dead back home.

So he spots someone, approaches them, and speaks softly as he smooths a hand over his waistcoat.

"Hello, yes--apologies, Ianto Jones. I was wondering if I might find a Miss Dahlia Leeds here by chance? I'm inquiring about possible opportunities within the Historical Society."

The librarian is more than happy to point Ianto in the direction of Dahlia, who was holed up in her usual reading nook in the Greymare Library. A blonde, with wavy locks draped over her face and shoulders as she had her nose buried deep in a book. A notebook sat on the arm of the sofa, and on the cushions beside her was an impressive stack of non-fiction books. She had assumed a rather comfortable position, curled up against the arm of the chair, her shoes kicked off onto the floor as if she was in her own home.

"She practically lives here after work," the librarian pointed out. "She's typically either in town hall or right in that spot."

Spotting the woman the librarian indicates, Ianto finds himself struck by the picture she paints. She looks quite young, and quite comfortable, and for one painful moment he feels like he's back in the Hub in the dead of night, watching Toshiko with her PDA on the communal sofa and her pumps abandoned beneath her distant work station.

"Right--yes, thank you very much." Ianto replies to the librarian with a cordial smile, feeling a bit less ill at ease as he approaches the young woman. He finds himself behaving like he would with Tosh--heavier footfall so as not to startle, coming from the side rather than the front so she might catch him in her peripheral vision, reaching for the notebook to nudge it a little closer to her given its precarious placement on the arm of her seat.

"Miss Leeds, I presume?" he greets her softly. "Apologies for disturbing you--Ianto Jones. Might I trouble you for a few moments of your time?"

She did indeed catch him coming up to her, but she didn't pay him much mind until realizing he was definitely intending to speak to her, at which point she looked up and smiled.

"It's no trouble! Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones." Closing her book, Dahlia sat upright. He had her undivided attention. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, ehm--it's in regards to the Historical Society." he explains. Spying a nearby chair, he gestures for patience, walks over to snag it, and brings it over quietly to set in front of her seat so he can settle in and speak more comfortably.

"That is to say, I was rather hoping to inquire if there were positions available? While one does require a means of supporting oneself, I also feel that I could be of significant use. I have prior professional experience as an archivist, an analyst..."

He trails off, his polite smile turning more genuine with no small measure of pride.

"...and I'm not ashamed to admit, I make a damn good cup of coffee. Suffice to say, the general service to the community that a historical society can provide would interest me as a volunteer diversion, regardless--but if you have need of hired staff, I was essentially doing alarmingly similar work in my previous place of employment. Providing references will be, ah, 'difficult' to put it mildly, but if you care to test my qualifications I'd be pleased to submit to any evaluation you care to conduct."

Dahlia listened patiently for him to finish his pitch, her eyebrows gradually knitting as he spoke. When he concluded, she smiled apologetically. "Well... you sound perfectly qualified, and I have no doubt you'd be an asset, but unfortunately the Historical Society is more of a club than an established non-profit. Everyone involved is a volunteer. That said, I'd be more than happy to invite you to one of our meetings, but I don't have any sort of recompense to offer you. I'm sorry."

"No apologies needed--I had suspected, but on occasion some organizations such as these do hire paid personnel so it was worth inquiring." he assured her with a smile. It was a long shot, but a good one.

"I will, however, accept the invitation to the meeting, and leave the offer on the table as a volunteer to do the same kind of work. Meeting could be a good networking opportunity." he continued. "That, and...well, it's what I do."

He glances over his shoulder thoughtfully.

"Perhaps the library's hiring...you wouldn't know of anyone around here offering a bit of coin for good academic legwork? I can get my hands dirty if I must, but truthfully? I belong with the books, always have."

That, and it was safer there. For others, if not for Ianto himself...

"Maybe so! Although with your skill set, I've got half a mind to hire you myself. I could use a personal assistant," she teased, but was only half-joking. If he was interested...

Ianto smiled at that…but again, he’s reminded fleetingly of Toshiko as his gaze drifts to her cast off shoes, the notebook at her elbow…

“That…was a subset of my previous job.” He admits with a shrug. “And I wasn’t winding you up about my coffee.”

He winks—but he’s not joking. Not really.

After all, inserting himself into important places as the teaboy took him places before—could do again.

Dahlia chuckled. "I'm on the town council here," she explained. "And I'm the daughter of the original founders of the town, Jane and Japhet Leeds. Plus I run the Historical Society. So I'm exceptionally busy. In exchange for your assistance in keeping my affairs organized and good coffee, I'll gladly pay you the same rate as Town Hall, housing of a similar value as other starter packages, and access to my home library upon request. Does that sound fair?"

Ianto blinked at that, the genuine surprise he felt visible on his face.

...well. That was certainly one way to get to the bottom of this place and what the hell was going on.

"If it...earns me any bonus points, I had no idea, and I do hope I haven't been too informal." he chuckled, nodding to show he was listening as she outlined the job.

Basically, it would be easier than managing Torchwood Three.

"You had me at 'home library,' and if you have any dealings with the local government? Please warn me in advance if I have to be cordial--I'm accustomed to bureaucracy, and it helps to know in advance where flattery, threats, and bribes need to be applied and how often." he assured her. "Which is my roundabout way of saying I'll happily accept the position. And, assuming that I'm starting immediately..."

Ianto rose from his chair, gathered her shoes to place them neatly on the floor where she could easily slide her feet back into them when she stood, moved to straighten the pile of books beside her that was exhibiting questionable structural integrity, then stood again and smoothed a hand over his simple waistcoat--the picture of efficient composure.

"Much better. Also, as I'm here, I can also return any books you're done with to the shelves. Save the librarian a little time on their feet." he offered with a grin. "Otherwise, just let me know what times you want me, and I'll leave you to your research. Unless, of course, you could use a hand--eidetic memory, blessing and a curse sometimes."

Dahlia let out a warm laugh. "So diligent! I made a good choice then." She perched her elbow on the arm of the couch and put her chin into her hand, regarding him with fond amusement. "You're dismissed for tonight, but I'll see you bright and early at Town Hall! We start at 9am."

“Smashing.” Ianto replied, moving to turn—then hesitated and faced her again.

Now with her chin in her hand. She was not letting up with the reminders of home that appealed to his better nature, professionally speaking.

“One more thing worth asking: will I have to ride herd on you to ensure you stay fed?” He asked with the smallest hint of a good natured smile. “I’ve worked with academics before, and low blood sugar is, if you’ll forgive my language, a right bastard to keep up with when one’s superiors don’t address petty details like regular meals more than once every other day.”

"Oh, not you too!" The gripe was playful with no bite to it. "Everyone things that just because I'm pale and can't keep much body weight, I must be starving to death! I promise I eat plenty. I was planning on getting some dinner once I wrap up here."

"Hardly, Miss Leeds--I don't think you're starving because you're pale and lean. I think you're likely starving because you're clearly an academic, and as I said: I know your kind all too well." Ianto replies blithely, but his smile is warm, good-natured. "Just half a tick with this book and I'll get dinner once I'm done--next thing you know the library is closing, you take your work home, you'll get something shortly...then the sun is rising and dinner fell through the cracks somewhere between one page and the next."

He points a warning finger at her.

"If I find a way into any petty cash, and I'm not convinced you've had at least a snack in my presence at some point, I'll be leaving meals on your doorstep at the end of each day." he warns, then raises an eyebrow. "In fact--how long until you wrap up here? I'd like to see you off to dinner myself...and I'll bet one brass you tuck in like you haven't eaten in a month."

She chuckled. "Sometimes, yes! Depends what's on the menu," she said, still laughing. "It'll be a bit longer, but I'm not so foolish as to try and head home after dark. Once the sky starts turning orange, I'll pack it in."

"Excellent. Then I shall do a bit of light reading until you're ready to leave--a little knowledge of local history and lore should serve me well in my new position."

Nope, Dahlia. There is no escape from your new personal self care gremlin. A dignified, classy, unobtrusive gremlin, but still...

With a wink, he bows his head in polite dismissal and drifts towards the stacks, reasonably pleased with himself.

New job, new charge...and, he thinks, possibly a new friend.

It's not quite home--but it feels like a good, solid start.

By sunset, Dahlia had fulfilled her promise. She had packed away her items, put her does back on, and scurried off up the hill towards her family's estate to hurriedly shut herself in. This was not uncommon, neither for the residents of Pumpkin Hollow nor for Dahlia specifically. Most locals made a point of being behind a locked door by sunset, and this evening was no different. Dahlia begrudgingly would allow Ianto to walk her home if he so desired, but after that she shooed him away, insisting he return to the Oak & Iron before nightfall. Throughout town, lanterns hanging over porches would be left to burn all night. The streets of the town grew dark and still.

Not too far from the Oak & Iron, a darkened alleyway would make for the perfect place to conceal a hulking shadow. Piercing eyes of icy blue peered out from the darkness. By the time someone could make out just what the piercing beads of silvery light were, it would be too late to run.

Ianto walked Dahlia home, despite some mild protests, but her own insistence that he get back to the Oak & Iron before nightfall only proved his point: it wouldn't do to let a lady walk home unescorted.

So he sees her safely to her destination, with a promise to report for work promptly the next morning, and sets out for the Oak & Iron feeling relatively at ease with the world.

He's nearly there when the feeling takes him--the same one that came just before they initialized the computer to complete the opening of the Rift. That creeping sense of wrongdreadrun under the half mad certainty that it was vitally, absolutely necessary.

The certainty that the world was ending.

He stopped near an alleyway when a glimmer of light caught his eye. He stood, squinting, trying to focus...

And knew, almost immediately, that just like the opening of the Rift: he really needed to start trusting his instincts.

Shame he wouldn't get the chance to learn from his mistakes.

The creature's pupils are horizontal like that of an ungulate, but the breathing that came from the shadows sounded more like that of a bear. What emerged from the darkness of the alley and into the dimly lit streets, however, was no bear.

The beast towered over Ianto. Its long face was covered in dark hair and devoid of any sort of lips, exposing its many, many teeth and curling tusks. Its crown of black antlers sat high upon its head, creating spindly shadows upon the ground in front of it that seemed to reach out toward Ianto like prying claws. Its body looked emaciated, all ribs and tough skin and wispy strands of black hair, but it seemed to stand strong as ever on back legs with cloven hooves. Adorning its back, a pair of leathery, bat-like wings.

This monster, brazenly standing in the middle of town with no fear of recourse, only stood there a moment. It was as if it were giving Ianto a moment to observe its countenance. Then, it lunged, all claws and teeth and tusk and horn. It moved with practice purpose. To hunt. To kill. To feed.

Edited 2023-07-13 00:14 (UTC)

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Historical Society

Inquiring Within | Greymare Library, Mid-June

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tw scary monster and violence!