EVENT ★ RING OF FIRE

[futurologists]

SALOON FIRE Miz Poppy and most of the saloon workers have been missing since the ambush out at Boneyard Junction. None of the remaining saloon workers (around five total) have any idea where they've gone, only that one morning, they were all missing. They've been running the saloon as best they can in their proprietor's absence, but pouring drink and dealing with rooming is about the best they can offer with such a skeleton crew. Those who think there's more to this than Miz Poppy and the workers heading for the hills will find themselves right -- though not in an altogether pleasant way. Some time after the ambush, early in the morning, a fire starts in the saloon. By the time anyone notices, it's already spread too far to salvage anything: the task has quickly shifted from put out the fire to don't let anyone burn alive. There are a handful of saloon workers who live here, some visiting Qorral, and of course your teammates. Whom you choose to prioritize is up to you, but be mindful that you're still guests here, and the locals don't look kindly on yellow-bellied cowards. After everyone is safely out (or not), it's time to help put the fire out so it doesn't spread to other buildings. Perdition's Rest is mostly constructed of wood, meaning that the whole thing is a tinderbox ready to go. The sheriff and her deputies are here to assist, and many of the locals come out to help as well, though some stay in the streets and gawk. Afterwards, what parts of the the burned-out shell of the saloon still stand can be explored for clues as to what started the fire -- and, perhaps, what happened to Miz Poppy. Sheriff Holladay remains in the wreckage to conduct her own investigation; she'll be thankful for anyone who stays to help out, and will gladly swap information. THE GREAT OUTDOORS The saloon is now a blackened, roofless husk of a first floor and a burnt staircase that leads to nowhere. You'll need to find new accommodations. Those who helped out may find the Qorral willing to spare a bed for an intrepid adventurer or two -- but then again, they may be just as likely to suspect these offworlders as a cause for the fire. Ultimately, it may be easier to just camp outdoors. The local Qorral are happy to lend blankets and materials for tents, though if you want something a little sturdier, the tailor or the trading post will sell you something better . . . for a slight upcharge, of course. Better flex those haggling skills. As the hours pass and the sun begins to slip down below the horizon, it begins to snow. The locals will tell anyone that this is normal; it's midway through Q-65's winter season, and snow is common at this time of year. The weather will continue to be on the colder side of temperate, but the snow makes things a little chillier. If you haven't learned to get cozy with your teammates by now, this is as good a chance as any. Soon enough, someone starts a cooking fire, and though some of the locals filter back to their homes, some remain behind to stay with Audentes to share food, swap stories, and sing songs. It's an excellent time to rest and recharge after the last hectic few weeks on this planet. But for those who aren't the resting sort, it can also be the perfect time to plan and strategize. OOC NOTES Remember that the plotting post is available all month. There will be two more logs for this mission, both of which will be action-oriented, so use this time to relax and mingle! Please direct all questions pertaining to the mission to the dossier page to keep questions and responses in one place for easy player reference. General game questions should be directed to the FAQ. There have been new side missions added to the Bounty Board! You can also request bounty missions or submit player plots at any time.

Comments

[ofobedience]

[He's already turning when she says the words, when they hit him like bullets thudding into flesh and there's a tumult of feeling in him, shame and embarrassment and cold hard self-loathing and something infinitely, infinitely sad. He stands there with his back to her, unmoving.

He still has the daisies, back in Oska. Of course he does.]

I don't know what you're talking about.

[winces]

[ she feels that too, a white-hot flare of deep pain and loathing that she has is no stranger to, but admittedly never to this extent. her eyes narrow at his rigid back, but she makes no moves towards him, as if aware any sudden movement might cause him to run away. ]

You can talk about these things, you know.

[ at this point, what else can she offer but her time and her patience. ]

If it ever gets to be too much, keeping it all in.

[ofobedience]

[And she's right there-- distance is better, distance is good, and unaware that she's capable of gaining such a grasp on his feelings, he remains where he is, back turned and shoulders straight, muscles taught and jumping beneath the skin because it's hard not to laugh when those words reach him, hard not to let something slip through the cracks because he could tell you a thing or two about keeping things in, how much it takes, the cost of it.

His feelings are like a ragged black hole, bottomless, and there's a dark thrum of tension like a line being pulled tight, tighter, tight enough to s n a p as he tries to keep a hold on himself, hold all the fractured parts together to keep from breaking open.

When he speaks his voice is smooth and blank and deceitful.]

Your concern is misplaced. There's nothing to discuss. Hahah.

[The little splinter of laughter that comes at the end isn't entirely stable.]

[winces]

[ she has to close her eyes in an effort to steel herself against such emotions, so dark and twisting, unlike any she's really felt before. they are consuming, in a way, and for a moment even her breathing struggles against them. he may hear it, too, enhanced as his senses are — the stutter of her breath, the sudden shift into deep and heavy ones, a clear sign of intense concentration and calm. ]

I can decide for myself where to place my concern, thank you, [ she responds, her own words tight and clipped. ]

[ofobedience]

[He hears it, the odd hitch in her breath and the tension in her that seems to pulse across the distance between them, and slightly he turns to glance back at her, a cool look thrown over one shoulder. He can't quite discern the cause of her panic, thinks only that his demeanour has struck some nerve in her, and faintly he smiles. It's an odd, sharp thing.]

And I can decide to ignore it.

[The smile widens, a thin veneer pasted over the dark hole in him like a plaster over a gaping wound, and then he turns away again. Starts walking.]