Dinah Travers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartguard) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
theianlogs2017-09-18 02:47 am
heartguard) wrote in theianlogs2017-09-18 02:47 am
[OPEN]
Who: Dinah and YOU
When: September 14th-17th
Where: Burned Ruins, Shopping District, House #1006
What: Dinah continues exploring and investigating the city on her own time. Girl's got an agenda.I'll update this when it isn't almost 7 AM.
Warnings: Minor gore so far, will update as needed
I. TAKE ME TO CHURCH | BURNED RUINS | SEPTEMBER 14th
[ It's a very particular ruin that Dinah has concerned herself with since she stumbled upon it around the eighth. There isn't much left to it beyond rubble, dirt, ash, and the disgusting accumulations that result when such things are left exposed to the elements over some lengthy period. It's a stroke of fortune, perhaps, that it lacks a roof and what little bit of its walls do remain aren't enough to shelter any creatures that might have lurked in a darkened interior. Still, she's endeavored to clear what she could of the rubble and done well enough to have some sense of the space she's certain was some sort of holy site at some point not for any terribly damning visual cue, but for the energy that permeates the space against the spiritually barren backdrop that is this city. It's some tainted holiness that doesn't sit well with her, not that holy sites, particularly churches, have sat well with her for as long as she can remember, but this, this is something after so much time spent fruitlessly searching. It's a disappointing something for the lack of potentially useful information and tools available to her, and a reminder of the disadvantage she suffers for her inability to summon her hound to her side, but it's another something for her to turn over in her head.
Claiming a seat atop one of the flatter boulder-sized rocks she cleared previously with her 'parasol' laid across her lap, she traces the perceivable layout with her eyes as she feels out the space. She thinks that's what this was. A church, and a small one at that, but she can't be sure of the denomination, if it would even prove familiar to her. If this isn't her world, and it may not be if what Fran said rings true, who's to say what sorts of religions exist here? Regardless, any trace of a perceivable denomination appears to be good and gone at first glance as tends to be the case in this city. She's not so careless as to forego a closer examination now that she's cleared the place, of course, but hydration and a snack is in order if she's going to keep this pace up. She deposits her backpack gingerly into her lap and reaches inside to grab a bag of trail mix and a bottled water, still wondering.
It isn't just this church that's on her mind, but certain other discoveries she's made per quiet, calculated moves over the course of the past two weeks. The inaccessibility of the manor she still means to investigate, the protections it seems to share with the wall, the unsettling scene beyond it, the library with its oddly intact barrier -- as she takes a long swig of water, she pauses her train of thought for the footsteps that reach her ears, her senses sharpening as she attempts to grasp the encroaching presence. ]
Just how long do you intend to wait before you announce yourself?
[ With that, Dinah lifts the bottle to her lips again without so much as a single tell as to how prepared she is to move at a moment's notice. ]
II. SWORDS IN THE STONE, WEAPONS IN THE ASH | BURNED RUINS | SEPTEMBER 14TH
[ Her expedition to that ghost of a church done for the day and with plenty of daylight to spare, Dinah ventures further into the burned ruins with a focus on its ash laden streets and the various treasures to be unearthed from within them. It's not the trinkets that interest her, not the jewelry, the old appliances, or the occasional bit of damaged cloth. They never really have for the suggestion made by the bones one can find here. No, it's the weapons that she's after and she steps with purpose and a keen eye, bandana secured over her nose and mouth as she trawls the street with a pair of canes. Not everything worthwhile can be easily seen or felt and found beneath feet of ash, after all, and she's found this is one of the easier methods to mind her steps and the tools she's of a mind to collect.
It's swords she has an eye for today. Not for herself, but for Atem and Nero at their request after she put the question forward. Her collection of spears and various polearms is a slow work in progress for how discerning her eye and it's no less discerning now that she's 'shopping' amidst what she can only assume is the various weapon shops' missing stock. She's no weaponsmith, but she's more than warrior enough to know how to gauge a blade, how to measure wear and tear and test and separate the immediately usable from the damaged tools in need of repair before they can be effectively, reliably brandished. Even with the barriers she's established around the house as additional security and to provide an extended pocket of safety should one of them find trouble at night, she'd just as soon not blindly trust in the safety of the house. Her housemates should be properly armed and capable of carrying their own weight, rega -- regardless. The cane in her right hand meets some solid and she pauses, shifting the cane in her left to guide her close even as she traces the shape through the ash with the other.
The flame of the ring she wears on her hand remains steady as she moves to investigate with a hum. ]
Now, what do we have here?
III. GET IN, LOSERS! WE'RE GOING SHOPPING! | SHOPPING DISTRICT | SEPTEMBER 15TH
[ As soon as the cart gains momentum, Dinah puts her pushing foot to the bar of the shopping cart and leans forward, riding down the bread and bakery isle with seasoned abandon for years of experience. It's nowhere near full for the list in her hand and the grocery store is just one of a few shops that she needs to visit today for supplies. That doesn't mean the trip has to be unnecessarily devoid of enjoyment as resistant as she is about allowing herself any sense of complacency. This isn't home, but a girl's got to eat, hungry people only play marginally better than the dead in her experience, and she wants her playmates at nothing short of their best.
Catch her inside the grocery store or wandering the streets with a few bags in hand, looking for the next shop on her list. Is she lost? She might be. It's not like there's a readily accessible map or anything and some of the items she's looking for are firsts as opposed to previously found things. ]
IV. LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR | AROUND | 2 AM | SEPTEMBER 16th
[ It's with her lips drawn taut that Dinah draws the blade of her spear suddenly, violently up from the creature's middle, rending flesh, sinew, and bone with that assortment of distinct sounds even more seasoned combatants might find sickening. She doesn't bat a lash as the the weight of the newly divided halves pulls each to one side as the body yields blood, twitches, and sputters in attempting to keep at its functions for its delayed processing of its death even as it peels backward and falls into dirt and ash, convulsing. It's one of a great deal many corpses at her feet. The red that paints her clothes, her skin is a testament to just how busy her night has been, but there's little joy to be had for it. Orange eyes catch in the moonlight as she hops over the creature and lifts her arm to wipe the blood from her lips, smearing it across a cheek. ]
It's not enough.
[ To train, to further herself as quickly as she wants and needs. These creatures are too weak for that, enthusiastic though they may be where she needs them to be. It's nothing she can resolve at this exact moment, but that want, that need is one she thinks she'll have to address in short order. She needs more. She needs strength and she hasn't seen anyone cry for the difficulty over the network yet. It might just be worthwhile to look among the other pieces that have been gathered with her here. No, it definitely would.
Rolling her shoulders once, twice, Dinah casts the slick from her blade as she stalks forward through the darkness, her presence cloaked as always. Beyond intensely focused orange eyes and the glint of her blade in the darkness, the only testament to her existence is the steady glow of that small, opaque flame with its white core and dark indigo fringe sustained for her resolve and the ring she wears. That, and an all too cheerful whistle that's sent ahead of her. Come out, come out, wherever you are... ]
V. SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS | HOUSE #1006 | 4:02 AM @ SEPTEMBER 17th | CLOSED to FRAN
[ It's a rare night that Dinah is in early. That she's awake in the dead of the night isn't so rare, however, for an active mind and how thick and heavy she feels that imaginary darkness hangs around her tonight. It's why, shortly after three, always just after three like it's her lucky, unlucky number, she cast off her covers and creeps downstairs in her pajamas to grab a glass of milk and settle on the couch with a controller in hand. Turns down the volume, even, only to turn it up a few bars for the phantom flashes of monsters behind her eyelids and old, familiar voices that whisper such terrible things in her ears and threaten to drag her back into that place, that time where she is so small, so pathetically weak. No, she couldn't, can't sleep, not when the nightmares that would find her threaten to take hold of her here in the waking world. She hears them, feels them. Hates them, this, this weakness.
It's enough that she tenses when Fran announces himself. Tenses, relaxes marginally through softly murmured conversation, and resolves herself to play video games with him because she knows very well she won't sleep tonight and company -- well, his company is a welcome thing. What she doesn't quite realize in his company, for it, is just how much more she relaxes, how much less things seem as he settles in and they play. Leaned back with her legs tucked beneath her on the couch, she is every bit her usual, focused energy until sleep creeps up on her not even twenty minutes later.
Then, she's all closed eyes, chin straddling her chest in what's likely an uncomfortable position, and soft, steady breaths with the controller held loosely in hand. She might even look peaceful in those first moments as that inky blackness pours slowly from her skin through the fabric at her chest. Stretching, growing, twisting, writhing, it gains some volume so as to better cast itself like some strange, greedy blanket over her. The tendrils simply are in that moment before they are claws against the skin of her arms, leaving nothing but a twisting, pained expression in the midst of sleep that's soothed by a caress a moment later as it thickens. ]
VI. WILD CARD
[ Want something else? Write up a starter or contact me if you'd like to plot something out! ]
When: September 14th-17th
Where: Burned Ruins, Shopping District, House #1006
What: Dinah continues exploring and investigating the city on her own time. Girl's got an agenda.
Warnings: Minor gore so far, will update as needed
I. TAKE ME TO CHURCH | BURNED RUINS | SEPTEMBER 14th
[ It's a very particular ruin that Dinah has concerned herself with since she stumbled upon it around the eighth. There isn't much left to it beyond rubble, dirt, ash, and the disgusting accumulations that result when such things are left exposed to the elements over some lengthy period. It's a stroke of fortune, perhaps, that it lacks a roof and what little bit of its walls do remain aren't enough to shelter any creatures that might have lurked in a darkened interior. Still, she's endeavored to clear what she could of the rubble and done well enough to have some sense of the space she's certain was some sort of holy site at some point not for any terribly damning visual cue, but for the energy that permeates the space against the spiritually barren backdrop that is this city. It's some tainted holiness that doesn't sit well with her, not that holy sites, particularly churches, have sat well with her for as long as she can remember, but this, this is something after so much time spent fruitlessly searching. It's a disappointing something for the lack of potentially useful information and tools available to her, and a reminder of the disadvantage she suffers for her inability to summon her hound to her side, but it's another something for her to turn over in her head.
Claiming a seat atop one of the flatter boulder-sized rocks she cleared previously with her 'parasol' laid across her lap, she traces the perceivable layout with her eyes as she feels out the space. She thinks that's what this was. A church, and a small one at that, but she can't be sure of the denomination, if it would even prove familiar to her. If this isn't her world, and it may not be if what Fran said rings true, who's to say what sorts of religions exist here? Regardless, any trace of a perceivable denomination appears to be good and gone at first glance as tends to be the case in this city. She's not so careless as to forego a closer examination now that she's cleared the place, of course, but hydration and a snack is in order if she's going to keep this pace up. She deposits her backpack gingerly into her lap and reaches inside to grab a bag of trail mix and a bottled water, still wondering.
It isn't just this church that's on her mind, but certain other discoveries she's made per quiet, calculated moves over the course of the past two weeks. The inaccessibility of the manor she still means to investigate, the protections it seems to share with the wall, the unsettling scene beyond it, the library with its oddly intact barrier -- as she takes a long swig of water, she pauses her train of thought for the footsteps that reach her ears, her senses sharpening as she attempts to grasp the encroaching presence. ]
Just how long do you intend to wait before you announce yourself?
[ With that, Dinah lifts the bottle to her lips again without so much as a single tell as to how prepared she is to move at a moment's notice. ]
II. SWORDS IN THE STONE, WEAPONS IN THE ASH | BURNED RUINS | SEPTEMBER 14TH
[ Her expedition to that ghost of a church done for the day and with plenty of daylight to spare, Dinah ventures further into the burned ruins with a focus on its ash laden streets and the various treasures to be unearthed from within them. It's not the trinkets that interest her, not the jewelry, the old appliances, or the occasional bit of damaged cloth. They never really have for the suggestion made by the bones one can find here. No, it's the weapons that she's after and she steps with purpose and a keen eye, bandana secured over her nose and mouth as she trawls the street with a pair of canes. Not everything worthwhile can be easily seen or felt and found beneath feet of ash, after all, and she's found this is one of the easier methods to mind her steps and the tools she's of a mind to collect.
It's swords she has an eye for today. Not for herself, but for Atem and Nero at their request after she put the question forward. Her collection of spears and various polearms is a slow work in progress for how discerning her eye and it's no less discerning now that she's 'shopping' amidst what she can only assume is the various weapon shops' missing stock. She's no weaponsmith, but she's more than warrior enough to know how to gauge a blade, how to measure wear and tear and test and separate the immediately usable from the damaged tools in need of repair before they can be effectively, reliably brandished. Even with the barriers she's established around the house as additional security and to provide an extended pocket of safety should one of them find trouble at night, she'd just as soon not blindly trust in the safety of the house. Her housemates should be properly armed and capable of carrying their own weight, rega -- regardless. The cane in her right hand meets some solid and she pauses, shifting the cane in her left to guide her close even as she traces the shape through the ash with the other.
The flame of the ring she wears on her hand remains steady as she moves to investigate with a hum. ]
Now, what do we have here?
III. GET IN, LOSERS! WE'RE GOING SHOPPING! | SHOPPING DISTRICT | SEPTEMBER 15TH
[ As soon as the cart gains momentum, Dinah puts her pushing foot to the bar of the shopping cart and leans forward, riding down the bread and bakery isle with seasoned abandon for years of experience. It's nowhere near full for the list in her hand and the grocery store is just one of a few shops that she needs to visit today for supplies. That doesn't mean the trip has to be unnecessarily devoid of enjoyment as resistant as she is about allowing herself any sense of complacency. This isn't home, but a girl's got to eat, hungry people only play marginally better than the dead in her experience, and she wants her playmates at nothing short of their best.
Catch her inside the grocery store or wandering the streets with a few bags in hand, looking for the next shop on her list. Is she lost? She might be. It's not like there's a readily accessible map or anything and some of the items she's looking for are firsts as opposed to previously found things. ]
IV. LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR | AROUND | 2 AM | SEPTEMBER 16th
[ It's with her lips drawn taut that Dinah draws the blade of her spear suddenly, violently up from the creature's middle, rending flesh, sinew, and bone with that assortment of distinct sounds even more seasoned combatants might find sickening. She doesn't bat a lash as the the weight of the newly divided halves pulls each to one side as the body yields blood, twitches, and sputters in attempting to keep at its functions for its delayed processing of its death even as it peels backward and falls into dirt and ash, convulsing. It's one of a great deal many corpses at her feet. The red that paints her clothes, her skin is a testament to just how busy her night has been, but there's little joy to be had for it. Orange eyes catch in the moonlight as she hops over the creature and lifts her arm to wipe the blood from her lips, smearing it across a cheek. ]
It's not enough.
[ To train, to further herself as quickly as she wants and needs. These creatures are too weak for that, enthusiastic though they may be where she needs them to be. It's nothing she can resolve at this exact moment, but that want, that need is one she thinks she'll have to address in short order. She needs more. She needs strength and she hasn't seen anyone cry for the difficulty over the network yet. It might just be worthwhile to look among the other pieces that have been gathered with her here. No, it definitely would.
Rolling her shoulders once, twice, Dinah casts the slick from her blade as she stalks forward through the darkness, her presence cloaked as always. Beyond intensely focused orange eyes and the glint of her blade in the darkness, the only testament to her existence is the steady glow of that small, opaque flame with its white core and dark indigo fringe sustained for her resolve and the ring she wears. That, and an all too cheerful whistle that's sent ahead of her. Come out, come out, wherever you are... ]
V. SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS | HOUSE #1006 | 4:02 AM @ SEPTEMBER 17th | CLOSED to FRAN
[ It's a rare night that Dinah is in early. That she's awake in the dead of the night isn't so rare, however, for an active mind and how thick and heavy she feels that imaginary darkness hangs around her tonight. It's why, shortly after three, always just after three like it's her lucky, unlucky number, she cast off her covers and creeps downstairs in her pajamas to grab a glass of milk and settle on the couch with a controller in hand. Turns down the volume, even, only to turn it up a few bars for the phantom flashes of monsters behind her eyelids and old, familiar voices that whisper such terrible things in her ears and threaten to drag her back into that place, that time where she is so small, so pathetically weak. No, she couldn't, can't sleep, not when the nightmares that would find her threaten to take hold of her here in the waking world. She hears them, feels them. Hates them, this, this weakness.
It's enough that she tenses when Fran announces himself. Tenses, relaxes marginally through softly murmured conversation, and resolves herself to play video games with him because she knows very well she won't sleep tonight and company -- well, his company is a welcome thing. What she doesn't quite realize in his company, for it, is just how much more she relaxes, how much less things seem as he settles in and they play. Leaned back with her legs tucked beneath her on the couch, she is every bit her usual, focused energy until sleep creeps up on her not even twenty minutes later.
Then, she's all closed eyes, chin straddling her chest in what's likely an uncomfortable position, and soft, steady breaths with the controller held loosely in hand. She might even look peaceful in those first moments as that inky blackness pours slowly from her skin through the fabric at her chest. Stretching, growing, twisting, writhing, it gains some volume so as to better cast itself like some strange, greedy blanket over her. The tendrils simply are in that moment before they are claws against the skin of her arms, leaving nothing but a twisting, pained expression in the midst of sleep that's soothed by a caress a moment later as it thickens. ]
VI. WILD CARD
[ Want something else? Write up a starter or contact me if you'd like to plot something out! ]
iv.
[Dinah's cheery whistling is interrupted by Kamui's approach. He slides out of the dark some distance to her right, for once having left his room without his signature parasol. His smile is serene and gentle, but the drying blood caked on his cloak and bandaged arms attests to him indulging in the same late night hobby as his new companion.
He waves likes this meeting is a completely natural and expected occurrence.]
At least one person in this pathetic little town has the right idea.
iii
[ Nero was not the sort to leave his residence, to come this far. Oh, he was quite curious about everything. But to begin, was it not worth his time to study what was around him? The false life.
But, luckily, today he was out and about - in loose clothes, covering his body well. Honestly, he had a few things he needed as well - perhaps he could find some tools to help modify the Red Baron. It should fire again - he shouldn't have let Wedge manipulate it that much.
He is just looking at the way she seems to be having so much... enjoyment from this. And then scoffs. (Honestly, he was utterly lost, and knowing somebody he knew a little was a little relief. Not that he'd say it.) ] Not to stop you? But you might squish some of your precious groceries if you continue pushing yourself like that.