[Daniel] Day 11: Grim News (tag all)
May. 13th, 2006 02:18 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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By the time Daniel gathered the majority of the survivors around the cookfire, it was writ on many of the faces that the news had already trickled down the metaphorical grapevine. What was the saying? Good news travels fast, but bad news travels faster?
He looked out at the eclectic assortment of people, from different walks of life with different knowledge and different skills, all thrown together into this community due plane crashes, spaceship crashes, misdirected wormholes, and rips in the fabric of time. All brought here by people or beings unknown with reasons just as unfamiliar and unknown, with the slowly waning hope that they would ever be rescued.
Taking off his glasses, Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought for a moment, tossing out the previously rehearsed words in favor of just speaking from his heart and his head. He wasn't going to give empty platitudes or hollow words, these people didn't want to hear that and truly, he hated the sound of such things.
"As I'm sure most of you may have heard, Lucy Brightman is no longer with us. She took her own life this morning and drowned in the ocean. Plans are being made to retrieve her body from the reef, and there will be a burial and a memorial service. If anyone would like to say a few words, then please see me and we'll make arrangements. If anyone has any questions, please feel free to see me or Blaise."
The hardest part over, Daniel took and released a breath. "Now, unfortunately, as callous as it sounds, Lucy is gone, yes, but the camp is still here and we still have to survive another day. There is still food to be gathered: foraging, fishing, snares, and possibly boar pits to be dug. A raft is being built to retrieve the body, and any help with salvaging logs or materials to strap them together would be a great help.
"Most importantly, and I *cannot* stress this enough, talk to one another. Everyone here, we are all a community now and we need to pay attention to the needs of one another and the general feeling within the camp." His gaze nearly strayed to Clarice, but he resisted. She was pushing herself again, trying to hold it together while helping with the raft and as much as he wanted to tell her not to, he didn't think that preventing her help would be good for her; of course, he wasn't sure that her helping was good for her either. "Help one another.
"Any questions?"
"I have a question," Shannon piped up.
"Yes, Shannon?"
"What's going to happen to her stuff?" Shannon looked around, speaking over the rumbling growls and indignant mutterings, "What? It's a practical question. Survival. Isn't that what Daniel was just talking about? Life goes on? He can say it, but I can't?"
He looked out at the eclectic assortment of people, from different walks of life with different knowledge and different skills, all thrown together into this community due plane crashes, spaceship crashes, misdirected wormholes, and rips in the fabric of time. All brought here by people or beings unknown with reasons just as unfamiliar and unknown, with the slowly waning hope that they would ever be rescued.
Taking off his glasses, Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought for a moment, tossing out the previously rehearsed words in favor of just speaking from his heart and his head. He wasn't going to give empty platitudes or hollow words, these people didn't want to hear that and truly, he hated the sound of such things.
"As I'm sure most of you may have heard, Lucy Brightman is no longer with us. She took her own life this morning and drowned in the ocean. Plans are being made to retrieve her body from the reef, and there will be a burial and a memorial service. If anyone would like to say a few words, then please see me and we'll make arrangements. If anyone has any questions, please feel free to see me or Blaise."
The hardest part over, Daniel took and released a breath. "Now, unfortunately, as callous as it sounds, Lucy is gone, yes, but the camp is still here and we still have to survive another day. There is still food to be gathered: foraging, fishing, snares, and possibly boar pits to be dug. A raft is being built to retrieve the body, and any help with salvaging logs or materials to strap them together would be a great help.
"Most importantly, and I *cannot* stress this enough, talk to one another. Everyone here, we are all a community now and we need to pay attention to the needs of one another and the general feeling within the camp." His gaze nearly strayed to Clarice, but he resisted. She was pushing herself again, trying to hold it together while helping with the raft and as much as he wanted to tell her not to, he didn't think that preventing her help would be good for her; of course, he wasn't sure that her helping was good for her either. "Help one another.
"Any questions?"
"I have a question," Shannon piped up.
"Yes, Shannon?"
"What's going to happen to her stuff?" Shannon looked around, speaking over the rumbling growls and indignant mutterings, "What? It's a practical question. Survival. Isn't that what Daniel was just talking about? Life goes on? He can say it, but I can't?"
[Molly] Everyone Needs a Hugh Now And Again.... (tag Hugh, open)
Date: 2006-05-18 12:44 am (UTC)She turned from the depressing sight, if not totally from such thoughts. "And I don't mean your special blend, either." She winked at him. "I have a nice mint tea already dried and in cloth bags."
She was greatful for the distraction Hugh offered. "I can't understand it, I'm afraid. I suppose under cetain extreme citrcumstances I can. But life is often short enough." For you, and sometimes for the Sidhe as well, she thought morosely. Her sixth Cousin, Donal, had been killed in battle two years ago. He'd been younger than Molly.
Molly walked beside Hugh, keeping to his pace. "I wish I could say I'd never seen it before. My family has a long history of taking in foster children. Usually abused, neglected, tormented. On great occasion, the weight of what they endured becomes too great, and no amount of love, support, and counseling makes a difference. I lost a foster sister in such a way. It was so hard, for all of us." She looked over her shoulder forcing a bit more of that gruesome sight on herself before watching where she was going once more.
Indeed, it was only in overcoming that loss that kept Molly from a foolish spiral of what ifs and self recrimination. She'd done that before. Dealt with it, and had grown. "Another cruel lesson on how friends are important, I suppose. I don't recall Lucy ever getting close to anyone. But I'm glad for the likes of you, and Clarice, and Tara. Friends help chase away the shadows."
[Hugh] Precariousness and friendship (tag Molly, open)
Date: 2006-05-18 05:24 pm (UTC)"Suicide's usually a response to somebody believing that the situation they're in is never going to get better enough for them to go on living. The problem is, unless they're terminally ill, they're generally wrong. But they're too mired in their troubles to see that.
"The thing that makes everyone feel so helpless is that they get tempted to think they coulda seen it coming, coulda done something to prevent it. Well, yes, maybe. If their luck had been different. But if you didn't get the opportunity to do something, you can't regret not doing it. It's not like we have a time machine handy that we could use to jump back and fix this. Best we can do is damage control, and making sure it doesn't happen again."
"Now...how 'bout a distraction?" Unshouldering his bag and laying it on his lap, he opened it and pulled out a wooden case. "Santa Claus came early this year," he said conspiratorially, and winked. "Get a look at this."
He opened it to show a set of woodcarving knives in all sorts of different shapes and sizes, each blade sheathed in its own little leather holder. "Want me to pimp out your bow for you?"
[Molly] Precariousness and friendship (tag Hugh, open)
Date: 2006-05-18 11:20 pm (UTC)When he mentioned a time machine Molly had to chuckle. She’d heard the claims, but Tara had confirmed the reality.
She wished she could share the truth of who she was with Hugh. But she had seen how badly some took it. And there would be no adept to work a memory spell to erase the knowledge if things went bad. Tara would be wary of doing it again after the Adam incident.
“My family have always been very fond of children.” She offered him truth, as much as she could afford. “For hundreds of years, so it’s become a kind of legacy, I suppose.”
Molly added a packet of mint to her own cup of boiling water. But her eyes widened at the site of the carving tools. They were real steal, for certain, but she didn’t fear them.
Her eyes misted at Hughes offer and thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Hugh. I would be honored if you would decorate my bow. Her name is Dílis, by the way. Tis, Gaelic for the word ‘Faithful.”
[Hugh] Precariousness and friendship (tag Molly, open)
Date: 2006-05-19 05:49 pm (UTC)He nodded about the bow, and scratched his beard. "Got a preference for a design? Or should I just see what comes out of my hands?"
Over Molly's shoulder, he caught sight of Clarice crying and Daniel giving her a hug. /Better out than in, especially with that one./
He sighed. "Truth is, we're in a hard situation, and we each gotta do what we can to make it better. I can't carve us a ship to get us out of here, but with these, I can make a lot of useful things, and some pretty things too."
[Molly] Healing beauty (tag Hugh, all)
Date: 2006-05-20 02:08 am (UTC)Molly understood Hugh's point. "I think Mara has been doing her part in adding beauty to our camp. There's something to be said for decoration. Function is all well and good, but beauty feeds the soul. With all we do to survive here, so few of us stop to nurture our spirits. I think you've found another hat for yourself, Hugh. Hunter, leather crafter, tea maker,now carver. What other hidden talents lurk in there?" She smiled teasingly at him.
[Hugh] Hugh Emerson, Renaissance Guy (tag Molly, all)
Date: 2006-05-22 06:24 pm (UTC)He nodded slowly. "Mara's kind of a character. She's usually talkin' to someone I can't see, but around here, that could just mean she has a six-foot invisible rabbit as a sidekick. Anyway, it's true. If we're stuck here for a while, we can't live like castaways. We have to live like inhabitants. And that means beauty, utility, and whatever conveniences we can manufacture to make life easier."
He grinned again at her interrogation. "Hidden talents?" He chuckled. "Welp, let's see. I was a civil rights lawyer for decades, I've raised horses, I'm pretty damn good at taxidermy, I've fended off a few vampire attacks, and I have the perfect root-beer float recipe."
[Molly] Hugh Emerson, Renaissance Guy (tag Hugh, all)
Date: 2006-05-24 12:05 am (UTC)"Ooooh... root beer float... with french vanilla ice cream." She sighed over dramatically. "I'd love one of those... and a whopper. Onion rings too. Damn. I miss civilization more than I thought."
Mollys eye brightened. "But horses, you said? My da was a horse breeder. I spent some time in stables as a child." Both for true horses and elvinsteeds, and she'd helped deliver more than one foal when the foaling went wrong. "I love to ride when I can."
[Hugh] Hugh Emerson, Renaissance Guy (tag Molly, open)
Date: 2006-05-25 04:57 pm (UTC)"I've got a Mustang and a Morgan back home. Guess the neighbor's gonna inherit 'em by default, since I have no idea when we're gettin' outta here. He's a stand-up guy anyway, little short on money. I don't mind. Mostly I worry about my family worrying."
"I can understand that."
"Well, my little girl has her family to keep her company now, but we've always been close...I'm still hoping to see her again, but..." his eyes got distant for a moment, and he busied himself extending the coil grip into a jasmine vine that wrapped elaborately over the wood. He blew the shavings off again and started adding the leaves and flowers one by one.
"Anyway, we get outta here, you're welcome to come stay a while. I'll be invitin' Tara too--there are lotsa Pagans and hippies in the area, I'm sure she'd run into like-minded people around. Only unfriendly supernatural folk I've run into are the vampires."
"So Tara's outing herself didn't bother you?"
Hugh grinned. "I already know the bad guys have magic. Knowin' the good guys do too is a real pleasant thing for a battle-scarred old fart like me."
{Molly] Hugh Emerson, Renaissance Guy (tag Hugh, open)
Date: 2006-05-26 12:41 am (UTC)"I might just take you up on that. A visit sounds nice. I have a feeling quite a few people here will be keeping in touch when we get home." She made sure she said when. Because she might be able to wait a long time, but these people couldn't.
"And there are more than a few good guys with magic. One of my best friends is a mage. That's one of the reasons Tara's magic didn't even make me blink." And I was raised in a world of magic, but that has to remain unsaid, damnit, and it isn't fair. "My friend isn't pagan... not like Tara anyway. I think he might be agnostic. But he's definately one of the good guys."
"I think Tara would be pretty much at home where you live. Pagans and some Vampires to hunt. She has her own personally carved stake, you know. She doesn't look or even feel the vampire hunting sort, but she's got so much depth, I think she doesn't even realize how strong she is inside." Molly drank some of her own tea.
"And I'd love to meet your daughter. Another redhead to terrorize the world with. She pass it on to any of those grandsons you mentioned?"
[Hugh] Hugh Emerson, Renaissance Guy (tag Molly, open)
Date: 2006-05-26 05:05 pm (UTC)The corners of his eyes crinkled in merriment as she mentioned his grandsons. "Nope, one took after his father and is blond, the other one's got dark hair like me. Which means he gets to look forward to startin' to lose it as fifty, poor thing. He's breakin' some hearts now, though, from what I hear."