deercountry | [OPEN] OUTPOST HAVEN [player plot]

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[OPEN] OUTPOST HAVEN [player plot]

Who: Anyone and Everyone
What: Open Post for Player Plot Outpost Haven
When: September
Where: Staging Point in Crenshaw and Outpost

Content Warning: None in the main post

[Ooc: This is an open log place for the Outpost player plot, plotting post here and location post here. Feel free to post starters here and tag one another.]

Defensive Measures

After the presence of massive monster crawling out of the sea last month, measures have been taken to ensure even those without abilities to handle large foes can take them on.

These come in the form of multiple ballistae made from bone mounted on the walls, sized more for shooting small trees as ammo than anything more traditional. D has rigged the swivels they sit on to keep them from aiming at other ballistae or inside the walls.

All have stacks of crude 'ammo' set near them, but one in particular has been set up with more. At the edge of the cleared forest is a large ten foot diameter hoop set up to use as target practice.

Great Hall Construction

Excavation went much more quickly due to the big help of Falco Grice, so the basement has been finished ahead of schedule. The center of the walled area will now see construction begin on a large great hall, big enough to shelter the sleeper population of Trench in an emergency although it will be tight quarters.

Use of blood mortar will continue, and multiple hearths will be built for warmth. More of the trees felled during last month's tree clearing efforts will be used as scaffolding.

Barracks Addition

The makeshift drainage from last month is at last replaced with a proper system, and now rather than just sinks and bath tubs the rest room and makeshift changing area of what will eventually be the barracks is going to be complete.

Sleeping is still bunk style in a shared room, but there's now a fully functional kitchen and everything one needs to live cleanly if not comfortably without leaving the outpost.

Supplies

Most of the food and medical supplies previously kept at the staging point are moved away and a vast majority end up in carefully prepared storage rooms in the outpost basement. Joining them are barrels for storing water and kits for starting mushroom growing.

There's still no ready supply of safe water at the outpost itself, but supplies are brought in regularly along with rain water catchers and filters.

Sashes with the outpost sigil are available for anyone who wants them, and there are now banners hanging by the completed gate with the red sun over blue waves.

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Staging point

D can still be found at the staging point, but he doesn't ever seem to come or go through the door. He either descends from the stairs or just seems to be there when someone turns around when he wasn't there before.

More often his omen is there, a crow with a scar running down its back perched on the back of the chair with all the plans and supplies lists laid out.

Eggs, Baskets

Most of the supplies went to the outpost and some remained behind, but Manabu, Duty, and Felwinter will all receive notes from D that he's also stockpiling supplies at an unaffiliated location. The note details the amount to account for the inventory discrepancies but doesn't include the location, just that Nico or Sharon will know where to retrieve them if necessary and D is unavailable.

Outpost at Night

D continues his task of guarding the outpost for the entire night from sundown until sunrise. He's usually there a little before the sun fully sets along with his nightmare steed, but stays in the morning only long enough to hand off his guard to the day shift.

He's also started to keep frack of what time beasts attack and how many. D had noticed they were becoming less frequent and fewer in number than previous months, but didn't have information from the day to compare it to.

But less wasn't enough for him to be comfortable bringing more people in just yet, particularly people who wouldn't reincarnate if the outpost was overrun. It could just be a slight dip, or part of a larger trend.

Closed to Snow and Vi

D's schedule was complicated and with a lot of moving parts, but he was able to arrange a meeting with Vi and Snow White. For once D was visible out in front of the staging point in Crenshaw. It was a slightly deteriorated two story house with a red door, but the most obvious sign were the large banners of the outpost sigil. The red sun rising over blue waves.

Jarem was with him as well, the large nightmare steed saddled up and looking particularly pleased in a way he usually didn't except when it was time to head out to the outpost.

Bring Your Spouse to Work Day (Defensive Measures)

Note: Touch base with Rona for interactions/handwaving with John.

The bone ballistae accompany Duty one morning, along with their maker. You may have heard of him or seen his face or read the hot takes on him back in July—John Gaius, previously known as Teacher. Duty works with the guards on duty to get the ballistae set up as D wishes. After checking everything and firing the first shot (dead on), Duty nods and returns to work for a normal day—

ish.

John sticks around. Even while holding his work to the same caliber, Duty's attention tracks his visitor. He spends his breaks with him, the way he might with any of his crew any given day. No one blows up the outpost. No one dies. Nothing so dramatic. Awkwardness infuses into most activities.

Duty leaves promptly that day, returning to Sanctuary with minimal chatter.

The next day and the ones after that, everything returns to normal but better—with ballistae.

Legos (Great Hall Construction)

At the end of each day, once the main work is over, Duty sets up the scaffolding for the next day. A section here, a piece there. Most people set things away for the night, grab a drink of water, and otherwise mosey about until the group is ready to return to Sanctuary, still a group activity.

Tonight you're unlucky enough to be the one he points to as his head tilts to the scaffolding. He motions the volunteer to help lift one end so he can move it with a simple dolly.

Sweater Weather (Barracks Addition)

As the weather cools, Duty takes to making tea and coffee during breaks. Before the kitchens are complete, he often heats the water himself, using Coldblood magic to make even the simplest mug act like a thermos. He makes enough to share and offers it to those that seem affected by the weather or its associated magic.

Whether you're cold, sticking out like a sore elbow, or simply going toward the barracks at the same time as Duty, he motions toward the tins of coffee and tea in silent offering as he gathers water from a barrel to boil with magic (early in the month) or over one of the hearths (late in the month).

Precooked Crab (Supplies)

Once to twice a week, Duty brings a supply of cooked crabs. They store well and only require reheating. An occasional crab is a touch overcooked, but overall they're fine, simply plain. The preparation clearly hasn't added much in the way of herbs or spices. The crabs are no threat, the hallucinogen inactive.

Though Duty usually eats some cold food brought with him for lunch, Duty partakes in the crab on particularly long or difficult days. Protein always makes a difference. He sits with the others quietly but can get pulled aside for conversation.

Edited 2022-09-14 15:31 (UTC)

Vi's expression is notably pleased when she sees them - and for once, it's only indirectly related to D - it's the sight of Jarem, saddled and ridden, looking neither sullen nor murderous - a look she wonders if she might see, someday, on a different nightmare ...should this turn out favorably.

Of course she's a little early. Her stomach's in a bit of a knot - it's not bad, it's just ...a lot is riding on this, horse puns notwithstanding, and she's been talking herself down (up) for fifteen minutes before she arrives.

She is going to stick to the script, and stare at Jarem, not at D. Hell, she'll even stare at Snow, who must be a Person to Behold - the reputation precedes the name. Maybe she's so ice cold she can intimidate beasts with a stare, maybe that's why she's called Snow.

"Hey." Vi might be speaking to D, but she's looking at Jarem when she does. It only helps a little.

A couple days after Duty receives D's note, he stops by at the staging point on the way to the Outpost. D's omen sits near the papers, a secure enough measure as far as Duty's seen. Then again, it's more likely someone might steal an inventory list as a beloved artifact with the dhampir's handwriting on it than to falsify the records.

He holds out a small note to the crow. The paper is folded, thick enough not to be read the contents from the outside. Wrapped around it is a friendship bracelet in the pattern of blue and white waves fastened by a red sun bead. The note itself contains two locations and is signed —Duty.

He had only come out here to see what was going on.

Professor Waver Velvet, Lord El Melloi II of the Mages Association and Head of the Modern Magecraft department at the Clock Tower, knew very well what the ramifications of his own status within Trench could mean for his own safety in the long run. As a Vileblood, not even standing beside the charismatic Iskandar-- whose Paleblood ran so hot that everyone around him felt a boost of confidence-- might not be enough to keep him free from judgement and unnecessary punishment from the regular Trenchies. While he had not committed any Vampire Crimes(tm), he did develop a habit of chewing when he was stressed. Be it pens, quills, or whatever he happened to be holding in his hands at the time, nothing was truly safe.

He had only come to investigate-- so, being called upon by Duty to help move anything was a surprise. Waver, with an unlit cigarette held between his lips in a poor attempt at keeping his chewing impulse at bay, cast him a quizzical look.

With an arched eyebrow, he lifted one skinny arm as if to flex. The resulting lack of muscle that showed from the gesture only served as a comical indication of his own poor dietary habits that were result of a nervous stomach. His twig-like, bony resemblance to a Necromancer was also painfully obvious.

"You sure?"

Duty shrugged at the arm, not moved either way. Theirs was not a first meeting. Waver was the adept in his relationship well enough, but he completed plenty of tasks himself from helping new Sleepers to scrambling free of the sewers. Even House necromancers could develop something of themselves.

"Can you do it?" Duty asked, instead of answering. That call was Waver's own. Whether that involved his arms, his magic, or anything else.

"...That depends. Is there a box cart around here that's free?"

He was built like Palamedes, and indeed could probably even share wardrobes with the Warden if not for the Warden's affinity for all of his textiles being gray.

Grumbling, he tied his loose hair back and took off the glasses he had taken to wearing around Trench. He didn't expressly need any prescription, but finding a replacement for the lenses would be hard if they were damaged. Next, he rolled up his sleeves before walking over with long, brisk strides.

"I'm not normally the one people call for moving, but I might have a trick that can help."

Edited 2022-09-15 02:33 (UTC)

When it's needed, everyone got their hands dirty. Duty brought the dolly around toward his end of the scaffolding and readied himself to slide it under. He also reached up to steady the scaffolding itself. It was the wrong position to lift it efficiently on his own, but that was not the point. If Waver made an error, Duty had no plans to let the man get squashed like a bug, even a resurrecting one.

"We're not moving much," Duty says, "or far."

Darkbloods aplenty are on the construction crew. The use of magic diversifies what that crew can look like. Waver would fit right in, even if his blood magic cannot make things float.

"Ready when you are." He's curious what the trick will be.

If he got crushed, there would be both Hell and Iskandar to pay for the misdeed. Waver barely knew Duty, and he did not wish Iskandar's wrath upon him.

Stepping up to the scaffolding, he ran his fingers along the sides to get a feeling for how mana flowed though the structure. After a moment he found a good grip-- and braced his hands against it.

Connecting the mana within the scaffolding with his own paltry magic circuits was nothing-- this was a party trick, nothing more.

"Ok. Ready when you are."

Snow arrives exactly on time, surrounded, as always, by her animal friends and her Omen, the giant stag, Faramund. She sees D, quite easy to spot at this point.

When she sees Vi next, she smiles and waves to her as well before she stops right beside Jarem, immediately reaching out and the giant nightmare met her hand with a nuzzle.

"Well hello, D, Jarem. And you must be Vi! It's so very nice to meet you! My name is Snow White, and this is Faramund," the stag nodded his head to Vi and glared at Jarem who was more than content to glare back. Several birds have moved to rest on Faramund's antlers and a brave little baby bluebird had the audacity to sit on Jarem's horn.

"Oh now now, no sitting on his horn without his permission, naughty thing," she giggled as she held up her hand and the bluebird jumped off the horn to her.

"Now then, D mentioned you'd like to befriend a nightmare, Vi, isn't that so?"

It's another rare occasion where D is at the outpost during the day. He doesn't plan to stay the entire day, not when he'll be out there all night once the sun has set. Duty can handle the installation of the ballistae, there's no question about that.

D is much more concerned about other people starting trouble because John Gaius is at the outpost. There's a distinct possibility D being there will be the start of said trouble, but he thinks that Duty being there mitigates the chances anything will turn violent between them.

For his part, D no longer has any reason to want John dead so long as he's not actively doing something that needs to be stopped. D is less clear on how John views him.

Sharon pulls a second sweater down over her head as Duty enters the barracks. She's still in her leathers, bloodied from her recent guard shift, and it's hard to say if she's feeling too lazy and exhausted to remove them or if the chill she's feeling has made the very idea too daunting to risk.

When he offers her tea, she lets out a grateful, "Please." as she peels her gloves off, tossing them onto a chair she's claimed for the time being. She breathes onto her fingers and then flexes them experimentally.

"The weather is killing me this month."

Duty nods, signaling Waver to lift. Gently, he moved the scaffolding back and let the dolly lean back with it. He provided balance and stability, anchoring it all to himself. Were Waver as weak as Harrow without her skeletons, it would have been a useless if amusing attempt. However, like Harrow, Waver certainly has his pride. It might not be skeletons, but it's something.

Waver simply... does it without anything particularly magical except that the young man already pointed out it was beyond him.

Duty steadies it until the scaffolding is ready to move. "We're going to the other end," he says simply. "Lead the way."

For obvious reasons, his view isn't the best.

Most people without training would not know what to look for. The ebb and flow of mana was something he had become intimately familiar with over his years of training; his lingering ability to read people and his environment from his time as a Master in the Holy Grail War only served as a compliment to this.

The only outward signs were a certain grit to his jar and a tremor in his hands. Teenagers were lighter and simpler to lift, but a scaffolding with an assist was not impossible.

...At least it wasn't a literal walk in the park.

"Mm? Very well."

Waver nodded, bracing both hands on the boards while he guided around the obstacles. While he didn't know the full scope of the project, he could see the bones of what was to come.

Preparing tea is an old habit, and he goes through the motions comfortably. Hot water into a large pot, tea leaves in a strainer, and quietly timed steeping. He gets out the mugs. Each one is held for about fifteen seconds before set on the table slightly warm. The magic preserves heat, and his hands aren't nearly as warm as tea.

"Coldblood?" Duty asks. He supposes people can come from any climate, and the cooler weather could be unexpected on its own. However, the problem is less the weather than the magic tying them to it. At least for Coldbloods like him.

The way was mostly clear, so the task wasn't terribly difficult. It never was. However, a stray thermos, a new unexpected dip, or other small misadventure could make the task a much longer and more difficult one. He could have called on his omen, but she was curled up comfortably at home.

"What do you think?" Duty asked broadly as they walked. The outpost was still in the early stages. Day to day the progress sometimes was hard to see, like watching someone grow up. It was a community project, with more hands involved than anyone ever saw.

"Yep" She responds, the word lightly drawn out in half a sing-song as she slumps down at the table, watching as Duty busies himself. She places her elbows on the table and rests her face against her hands. "I'd gotten so damned used to the weather never bothering me. I'm looking forward to shit going back to 'normal'"

Normal is accompanied by lazy finger quotes. Next month would no doubt bring some new, annoying blood effect but she knew that, at the very least, she wouldn't be saddled with the weight of the humidity or the pain of early morning chills.

He removes the strainer, cools the leaves so they stop steeping, and set them aside. There's more than one use out of a set of leaves. He pours tea into each mug and sets the teapot back down. He hands one over to Sharon and takes another seat at the table.

He nods, "Love it, hate it, it keeps changing." The magic is more obvious, but it goes for life too. The weather isn't nearly so jarring as the various experiences he's had in books. Varied there, too. One of them even pleasantly so.

This is their normal now.

Vi wonders if the stag is, in fact, Snow, as it's formidable looking as it comes into view, a spread of antlers very majestic (doesn't rival D, but what does? also no, no that's an Omen) but it's earthy in color, and she's quickly disabused of this notion first when the young girl reaches out to touch Jarem and it ends in a nuzzle.

And second when she speaks, in soft, dulcet tones, because there's no way to confuse the issue: she gives her name as Snow White.

This delicate slip of a girl who looks younger than Jinx, younger than Sansa, than Luz - perhaps somewhere closer to Jun or Falco's age, is Snow White: Intimidator of Nightmares, Motherfucking Ice Cold Badass. Pardon Vi as she stares, open mouthed for a moment, at the dark haired girl and her animal minions. Army of birds? Perhaps she could also do something like what Sansa does only ...woah.

She's going to have to re-think this, but she isn't sure how. It's not impossible for any number of these things to co-exist - she could be a very powerful witch. Or even a goddess of some sort, and all of this is so surprising that it not only steals her immediate words, it causes her to momentarily sidestep the urge to even look in D's direction.

"I..." She blinks, laughing into her surprise, and very belatedly raises her hand to wave at Snow, the stag, and every bird in attendance upon his antlers. That's. That's a bluebird on Jarem's horn - that's what she's looking at - from steed to girl to bird and back. "I would. I did. I mean, I tried. I..."

A frown, "It didn't go to plan. I messed it all up because my blood was weird."

Vi remembers very clearly being told that the nightmares only respected brute force, power, fearlessness. Well, this girl might be the third one - but she is having a hard time picturing Snow punching one of them into ...friendship? She's eyeing Snow warily, because she's definitely more than she seems.

Manabu Yuuki is a hard worker in the best and worst of times, and whether it's the best or worst of times dictates precisely who he's working for. With things this uprooted and terrible in his personal life, having a task to utterly immerse himself into and help him keep a few paces ahead of the despair welling up inside of him, threatening to drown him and leave him catatonic.

To that end, he and his omen appear at the lamppost early. His breath leaves in a steam of vapor in the early dawn's chill, and he shivers while he takes a moment to look around at the gradually-improving state of the broken church site. He moves to the barracks, popping his head in.

"D?" He calls. "Are you still here?" Or did he already leave, trusting the dayshift to show up on time?

Sharon takes the mug with a mumble of gratitude and cups it tight between both hands. She relishes the way the heat penetrates through the glass——just on the verge of being too hot for her to handle——before she finally takes a sip. She gives a tiny little grin as the liquid warms her from the inside out.

"I may hate this month's effect," She says between sips "but other types got it worse this month. Darkbloods seem to be dealing with some pretty serious memory issues."

It's hard to tell if that's pity or dread coloring her tone. Likely a bit of both. "I'm hoping next month is effectless. Or at least something that doesn't interfere in guard duty."

The sound of Manabu's voice speaks to something going on, though Duty doesn't know him well enough to say what. He pulls out another mug and pours a cup of tea from the pot he's already made.

"D left for the day," Duty says. They handed off, though D could still be reached for emergencies, presumably. "May I help?" He holds out a steaming mug.

Duty holds his mug, the heat a simple pleasure even before he takes a sip of tea. A luxury, having even a small way to make it better. There's being stoic and being a dumbass.

He nods his head. "We define ourselves by our experiences," Duty says, "When our memories change, so do we." He would know. He lost himself twice, so much more than words can say, before ever setting foot in Trench.

"We'll handle it, whatever it is," he says. He doesn't personally care to put eggs in that basket. Rather than good or bad, they are. If they can cope, it's not that bad. Sweaters and tea go a long way, as does hard work.

The answer comes clear pretty quickly, all told: John views him as a fascinating novelty.

In conversation with Duty, he cranes to get a better look at D behind her. He doesn't seem on-edge so much as openly intrigued, brow furrowed a little in thought. John carries no weapon, but then, D already knows he has no need of one; when he finally ambles over, he looks like no one much, aside the eyes.

"Impressive setup," he says, tone mild as the moment they met, before all the blood and death and soul-cutting. "Duty's spoken highly of this operation."

She hasn't spoken badly of it, which is the same thing.

Even from this meager distance, Waver felt his breath catching from the effort. Strength and stamina were not traits that he had at his disposal, and his own pool of mana was very limited. A trick like reinforcement at least took minimal effort, but even a small amount of water was significant if your total supply could fit into a puddle on the side of the road. Waver looked up at the work, hoping that maybe a distraction would take a little extra burden off of his mind.

"It looks like it's coming along nicely," he commented. "Impressive, for such a quick planning stage. I was thinking about approaching your boss. I have an idea for--"

The words cut off with a startled yelp as his foot caught on the side of a paint bucket-- and he went down in a leggy, bony heap.

It was a small fortune that the scaffolding didn't fall on him, but--

"Ah, fuck..."

--The paint can had tipped over and was pooling onto his black pants.

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[OPEN] OUTPOST HAVEN [player plot]

Defensive Measures

Great Hall Construction

Barracks Addition

Supplies

D | Vampire Hunter D

Duty | The Locked Tomb | Open

Bring Your Spouse to Work Day (Defensive Measures)

Legos (Great Hall Construction)

Sweater Weather (Barracks Addition)

Precooked Crab (Supplies)

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Staging Eggs in Baskets

Legos-- because this is comical

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Bring Your Spouse To Work

sweater weather

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sweaters

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