etrayalogs | APRIL MINGLE

APRIL MINGLE

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: April 25th - Early May
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, spring activities, and feathered friends!
NOTES\WARNINGS:

⏵ arrival ⏴
Welcome to Etraya!

Arrival goes as expected - characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital.

However, if they are arriving from Aphaia, it's a little different, though mostly through means and familiarity. They will still show up in the hospital of course, but how can vary. Either through Aurora offering a portal for escape, their own demise (however it might have happened), or even a simple blink of their eyes and they're in the hospital. They had been given the briefest explanation last time they were here, but at least Aurora can better answer their questions now. No time constraints nor rushing them off to a dying world, this time!

In the hospital's lobby are several party tables set out with miscellaneous baked goods: croissants, cookies, breads, cake slices, as well as tea and coffee to accompany them - or hot chocolate, for those who are opposed to the other offerings.

Outside the hospital, spring is sprung, it is warm and comfortable. Flowers have bloomed, and everything is in a sharp contrast to Aphaia—there is life within the bubble, and even the myriad wildlife seems to be basking in the glow of it all. Almost as if a celebration of that life itself.

Bees are buzzing, birds are—warking?

⏵ Birds of a Feather ⏴

Etraya has always had its interesting assortment of critters, but there seems to be a particularly colorful array of birds wandering around. Those familiar would know they are named Chocobos, those less so familiar, well, these are some strange looking ostriches, or whatever large bipedal bird equivalent fits. While the birds all seem to be of the same species, there are certainly some variety in their features. Some with friendlier faces and others looking a bit more eagle-like.

They are not particularly congregated in any one spot within Etraya, seeming to stick to groups, while others don't, yet even some are accompanied by newly hatched chicks. The observant might be quick to notice that their colors dictate some level of behavior, or even where their little groups mingle:

Colors	Behavior and habitat
Yellow	Can be found just about anywhere in Etraya, they don't necessarily stick to self-made groups, and typically are more likely to be friendly to people. However, if they are in the company of a newly hatched chick, they can become wary, though easily won over with some greens.
Green	These Chocobos are mostly found in grassy or woodsy areas, almost always in pairs, and sometimes found in the trees themselves. They are more wary than their yellow brethren, though if they see someone struggling or in danger, they are quick to offer assistance in what way they can. Doting like motherhens.
Blue	Most often found by bodies of water, these Chocobo seem content to keep to themselves. Three to a group, they are not so easy to approach without being noticed. Their skill and love of water is clear, however, and it's not unusual to find them flapping about or swimming. Though they may flee to the water if you spook them.
Brown	The most skiddish of the Chocobo, they can be found throughout Etraya, though further away from anything occupied by people. They stick to groups of four, though they have a clear leader who sports blue and green feathers, but seemingly is not of the other two types. Should they catch sight or sound of someone approaching they are like to run off, or they might attempt to defend themselves.
Red	There seems to be only one of these running around. Highly aggressive to anyone who dares to approach it. Best to avoid it. Very likely to hurl comet-like balls of fire your way. Untamable.

The birds all favor these strange cabbage looking plants that can be found out and about in the wilds of Etraya. Some proving a little overeager in their voracity to eat the leafy greens. One should be careful, with those large beaks of theirs.

⏵ Gift Hunt ⏴

It isn't only the birds that have shown up out of nowhere. Small to medium sized boxes, wrapped as if they should be under a tree, and maybe not hidden in a tree, have also appeared. For whatever reason (possibly the same reason eggs were given out over winter) there seems to be gifts hidden all over Etraya! Some in more difficult to find locations (in trees, on top of a roof, on snake island), while others look as though whoever "hid" it gave up halfway through and simply dropped it on the ground and put a leaf over it.

For those who need a little extra help, well, certainly your fellow Etrayans could lend a hand, however there are also perfectly capable birds about for those still left wanting. Certainly that blue chocobo could assist with crossing the river to obtain that perfectly balanced gift on a rock! Or what about that green chocobo roosting in a tree not too far from that gift stuck in the branches because it has entirely too many ribbons?

With that said, there might also be some dangers in trying to take one of the myriad gifts from a chocobo's nest, especially if there's a chick presently sleeping next to it. Perhaps befriending them would be a good idea first, besides, isn't friendship with a big bird the truest gift of all?

On the tag of each and every gift box says the same thing:

To: You
Love: 💋

Each gift has a random assortment within. Some contain candy, others contain alcohol, make-up...maybe even a pair of socks, very perfunctory gifts with very little thought or feeling put into them. However, there is at least one gift that is personally relevant to each character in Etraya. This item will be the equivalent of a 5 point AC reward, and does not have to be found by the person it is intended for.

What better way to break the ice than to give someone their gift which you opened!

⏵ NOTES ⏴

Welcome to Etraya newcomers and happy spring to everyone!

It appears that someone is trying to correct her previous mistake of handing out eggs during the winter holidays, and now there's a hunt for gifts accompanied by a bunch of lovely birds to help out!

Some notes in regard to Chocobos:

-Each color can be tamed except for the red one, he's a free spirit. Should someone wish to harm or attack this chocobo, let us mods know. There is only one of him, after all.

-The others will just take various amounts of work to win over, however, but they are loving and cute companions for those who are willing to put in the effort! And who knows, maybe more colors could arise with time and patience...

-Feel free to pull from all the designs of chocobos throughout the Final Fantasy series. If you fancy FFXII's, for example, there are some that look like that. Variety is the spice of life!

Concerning the personal item, be sure to plot out and get permission when finding someone else's item. This is meant to encourage possible new CR and mingling, but the choice of the item should ultimately be within the hands of the player who is receiving it.

If you are uncertain if your item is appropriate for the reward cost, feel free to ask here!

For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ John has to stop replying to check the map. He didn't even remember a subway from before. It didn't matter to him then. Suddenly he realizes exactly what subway this must be. This is what Shaw meant by him not recognizing where Carver is staying. Something hurts in his chest and he's not sure he's ready to see the subway again.

He can do this. ]

Thanks. Be there in thirty.

[ It's a quick jog over to the subway. When he gets there, sees the builds he walked through so many times, their little hidden entranceway, it hurts even more. For a moment he's not sure he can do this. There's not going to be the Machine, he doesn't think Harold, Root, and Shaw are waiting for him in there. Their second home, the place of their final crusade. A place he will never go back to, a place he will never get back.

He almost considers asking Carver to come outside, but decides he has to face this eventually and walks up to the vending machine. It's almost a reflex to open it up, but he catches himself— this is Carver's home. He pulls up the network again. ]

I'm outside the vending machine.

Come in. Code's the same

[ There's nothing immediately fatal on the stairs now. A courtesy, just like the one that John's showing him now by announcing himself instead of just coming down. Carver's waiting for him downstairs, arms crossed. Dressed all in black, as is his way. ]

A gift? [ he asks doubtfully. ]

[ There's a stabbing feeling as he punches in the code. If he wasn't committed to keeping it together he'd go back and have a drink or three after this. But he's committed to not running from this anymore, so he's going to have to live with the pain of knowing this is another thing he's never getting back again. This is the price of defeating Samaritan. This is the price of dying.

Carver said he disabled the traps but John is still careful going down the stairs. Still, there's a feeling of easy familiarity as he walks inside, unable to help the feeling. This was his home more than Riley's apartment. In a way it's good that this is Carver's home how because it means he has an excuse not to spend too much time here; the library is a comforting familiarity, a good memory, but the loss of the subway is too too fresh, too sharp.

Carver asks him a question but John is too busy looking around to answer right away. It's just like he remembers. It hurts to take a full breath, there's a tightness in his chest, but he forces himself to do it anyways and turns his attention to Carver.

John holds out the box. ]

They've been putting gifts around the place, like an egg hunt. This one has your name on it.

[ There's a long pause. Carver watches John close, suspicious, already wondering if the man's been drinking. There's no smell of booze but then, there wasn't last time, either. John covers his tracks with the finesse of an operator and a long time drunk. Not a great combination.

Even so, he's here. And holding out a box.

Carver takes it dubiously, turning it over in his hands. Expecting a trap of some sort, but it looks and feels like a regular box.

That is his name on the label, though. ]

It's always some bullshit around here, huh?

[ But he opens it because he's not a fucking coward, expecting - something. He's not sure. But not the photograph and the two faces that smile up at him, ghosts drummed up back home.

He snaps the box shut tight. ]

Did you look? [ Carver demands. ]

[ So, a box that means something. ]

No. Not my business. I'm just the delivery boy.

[ It's true, though. He's curious what it is but he has a feeling Carver doesn't want to share. What kind of thing would rattle a man like Carver? ]

[ His first, traitorous instinct is to toss the box and its contents away. Pretend it's trash and change the subject fast to something, anything else. Something meaningless. But if he tosses it away, that dishonors Matthew's memory, and that cannot be allowed.

Not for anything.

Carver works his jaw. Holding the box so goddamn tight. ]

Yeah. Always something around here.

[ John makes a quick calculation in his head. He thinks Carver will turn him down, but he wants to offer. People listened to him when he fell apart, helped him though difficult things. It's worth asking. He's learned a hard lesson that some things need to get aired out; he's trying not to be alone so much. ]

Do you want to talk about it?

[ Does it make him a coward if he says no too quickly, too loudly? Carver digs his fingers into the box, wanting desperately to open it again and take the photograph. To tuck it into his pocket and lay it over his heart. He’s lit candles for the dead. He’s written their names into walls, cut them into trees. He honors them the ways he knows how.

And now there’s a photograph. He could make a proper altar now, couldn’t he?

He clears his throat, deliberately not looking at John. ]

You want a drink?

[ This is a cruel thing to offer, which is precisely why he does it. ]

[ He's not entirely sure why Carver asks, given their previous encounter. Is it a selfish request? Is he making a dig at John?

It's easy to say "yes". Just one with a buddy. He'd done that after he came back after Joss' death, just one with the team. Just one. ]

Not doing that these days. But I'll keep you company.

[ He can still feel the slipperiness of that slope. He could probably do it, just one. But his recent experience is still too fresh and he's trying. One day, probably, but not yet. Just like he'll probably fall off the boat again, but there's no reason to put himself in that precarious position right now. ]

[ Carver makes a brittle noise. It isn’t laughter. Just something giving way in his chest and suddenly he’s moving. Going to the lone bottle of vodka he keeps hidden away among the rest of the supplies. He doesn’t allow himself to drink himself to sleep, no matter how bad the dreams get. But this is different, isn’t it?

It feels different.

He gets the bottle out and takes a long swig, rocking on his heels. The box tucked safely, reverently, to his chest.

Then, just as abruptly, he pivots on his heel and throws the bottle into the wall just to hear it shatter. ]

[ John isn't here to judge when Carver drinks straight from the bottle. He hadn't been any better not that long ago. He understands. He also doesn't even twitch when the bottle shatters. He still doesn't say anything, he doesn't think Carver is looking for him to do anything. Or maybe he is, and John isn't going to take the bait. John doesn't think there's comforting words that will help Carver through whatever is happening right now, he just has to wait for the other man to get to a point where he can hear anything. ]

[ Grief is a hateful fucking thing, Carver thinks. He hardly realizes he’s pacing before he’s in motion, glass crunching under his boots because he cannot hold still. He will, he’s certain, die if he has to hold still. And of course he’s got a witness, John watching silently as he paces in tighter and tighter circles like a crazy person.

Crazy’s bad news. Everyone knows that.

He stops abruptly. Not looking at John. ]

My sister had a kid.

[ This is snapped out, almost like a blow. ]

And I guess he was kinda my kid, too. One of those things.

[ "Had." Past tense. John is certain that the world Carver comes from has the kind of hardships he can only imagine. Whatever is in that box, whatever happened, is eating at Carver in a bad way. It's not something he can fix, but sometimes sharing the burden can help. Airing it out. ]

What happened?

[ He doesn't go for gentle, Carver would hate being treated like that, but there's a certain calmness that the John from before wouldn't have displayed. His lack of affect isn't the cold way he used to be. He cares, but he knows to hold back that carefulness from his voice. ]

[ He makes that brittle sound again, shaking his head violently. He shouldn't be talking about this shit. But it's breaking from his throat like glass. Splintering upon impact. ]

What always happens. He died.

[ Kids don't survive. How many times has that lesson been taught? He opens the box, taking the photo so, so carefully. ]

He was six.

[ That's a heavy thing, to have a child that's practically yours die. John can't really say he knows how heavy it is, but he remembers holding Leila in the freezing shipping container. ]

What was his name?

Matthew.

[ Carver shivers, forcing himself to stand up straighter. To account for himself and stop pacing like a crazy person. ]

Matthew Shaw. I was there when he was born.

[ He was one of the first to hold the kid, when Matthew was screaming his little head off and none of them knew what to do. ]

[ Shaw. John wonders if it nags at Carver like a splinter when he has to talk to Sameen. What are the chances. ]

That's a good name. I bet he was loved. Sometimes that's all you need.

[ Carver just exhales through his teeth. He holds still, even though it aches in his soul. He wants so badly to pace, to do something. ]

It was. For a while.

[ He gives John a sharp look. ]

Until it wasn't anymore.

Love doesn't save people, but it makes that life worth living.

[ Love doesn't save people. It's not magical like that. ]

[ Carver makes a brittle noise. ]

You don't need it. This - [ he gestures vaguely at their surroundings, and then at something beyond. Something perhaps intangible. ] This is a graveyard. That's what we are now.

Everyone needs some love, Carver. And if this is a graveyard then I'll start tidying up the graves. This is where I'm living now, until I die, assuming we can die of old age.

[ This isn't his home, but it is now. He's still getting used to that idea, that he's going to be here forever now. Even if he gets shot he'll just come back again, and again, and again. Escaping Etraya is just... nothing. ]

[ That stills him. Nothing else has. But that phrase, how simply John says it. Tidying up the graves.

Carver shakes himself. ]

The dead are owed their due, [ he agrees, a little distantly. Maybe that's the way to honor them in this place. ]

[ John thinks of Root. What is her due? She'd maybe laugh at the idea, make some sly comment about it surely, but he doesn't think she'd believe in that. He thinks she'd just want people to live.

But this moment isn't about Root, it's about Carver's dead child. ]

You can honor Matthew here. There's time.

I have to bury the others, [ he explains softly, not looking at John. ] Matthew had a grave. The others were just lying there, rotting.

[ He shakes himself again. ]

That's why I have to go back. To bury all of them.

I'll help you prove your world's worth so you can go back to them.

[ This is what he and Harold talked about, helping people but also the worlds. He doesn't think that Carver necessarily wants to hear what he has to say, doesn't want John's personal help, but John can help with his world, help him get back. ]

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cw death of a child

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